Dalan Luzaj
1944-

Photo by Kaman Cipi

 

Dalan Luzaj was born in the Southern city of Vlora. His father Isuf was one of the leaders of the Balli Kombetar Shqipetar organisation which was in opposition to the Stalinist Enver Hoxha who desolated Albania like a hurricane. After Hoxha came to power Isuf Luzaj was hounded and persecuted.
Dalan first published poetry in Nentori (November) magazine at the age of 18. Seven years later he and his whole family were interned in a 'designated village' where he spent the next 20 years in the misery shared by thousands of Albanians. In 1990 he emigrated to Italy, and now lives and works in Chicago.

Jeta me gjeti vetëm (Life found me quite Alone) was published in 1995; Diejt të largët (Distant Suns), in 1996;
and Pa Rrugë (Routeless) is scheduled for publication in summer 2003.

 

 from the collection LIFE FOUND ME QUITE ALONE

translated by Zana Banci and Anthony Weir

 

ENGLISH VERSIONS:

 

SHOP-WINDOW

Cold pockets
Holed pockets
The freezing wind at dawn
The evening wind of misery

The bed
is scorched by the heat
while the bread
glows in the shop-window.

 

APPROACHING THE FLOWER

I approach the flower.
When I hold it in my hands
it is entirely mine.

I can give it shade where it is too bright.
Where it is too dark I can give it light

like a child stammering.

 

EMIGRANT

Entering the sphere of enterprise and hope
he sees unceasing energy
trapped in the rat-race
helplessly.

 

ONE SUNNY DAY

This is for you who was always far away...
I can remember slightly
a young heart burning brightly,
a rolling stone.

My memories of the past:
fogged glass...maybe one or two
sweet nights and just one day
in my whole life when I met
a golden moment: you.

 

WOUNDS

Life came and found me quite alone.
Outside: the street's silent, watchful eye.
I took its blows philosophically
with the smile that suffering taught me.

Life came and found me quite alone.
I can't go forth from solitude.

Nowhere on this whole continent
can my wounded heart be healed.

 

EYES

Everything ages -
even a rare miracle;
only The Eyes stay young.

Look at me one more time
if you have the mercy to let me live.

 

THE TROUSERS OF INTERNMENT

My pants
covered in patches,
were rinsed in the spring
but the suffering wouldn't wash out.

Like faded days
my pants hung on the Collective's door
on the rusty nail of Internment.

And the wind brought me from far-off the memory
of the unerasable face of poverty.

 

FORGIVE ME, POETRY

I set out for you early on:
a child scrubbed, neat and clean.
I travelled towards you brightly hoping -
but I never reached you...

I was struck down by The Hurricane.

ALBANIAN VERSIONS:

 

VITRINË

Xhepa të ftohtë,
xhepa të shpuar,
era e mëngesit i flladit,
era e mbrëmjes u hedh pikëllim.

Digjet shtrati nga avujt e nxehte,
ndërsa buka
shkëlqen
në vitrinë.

 

I QASEM LULES

I qasem lules.

Kur e mbaj në duar
është e gjitha e imja.

E mund t'i jap hije atje ku ka dritë,
e mund t'i jap drite atje ku ka hije.

Duke bëlbëzuar fjalë prej fëmije

 

EMIGRANTI

Kur hyn në orbitën e vrullit dhe shpreses
njeh forcën shtytëse që kurre s'ndalon,
sado që t'i qepet maratonës se jetës,
ngelet në pjesën që gabon.

 

NJË DITË ME DIELL

Kjo është për ty që mbete larg;

ne mund ta sjellësh pak ndër mend
një shpirt i ri që digjej flake,
një gur që ende s'ka zënë vend.

Më vjen e shkuara ndër kujtime,
ekran i mjergullt, me pake natë;
një ditë me diell ish jeta ime
kur ty të njoha.
Çast i artë.

 

PLAGË

Erdhi jeta e me gjeti vetëm,
jashtë rruge, të heshtur, syhapur,
i prita goditjet me pamje të qetë,
me buzagazin e dhimbjes së zgjatur.

Erdhi jeta e më gjeti vetëm,
të dal prej vetmisë s'kam se si.
Nuk më rinon as i gjithë kontinenti,
plagët, kur verenjten, më therin në gji.

 

SYTË

Gjithçka vjetërohet,
qoftë një mrekulli e rrallë.
Vetëm sytë janë të rinj.

Shikome dhe nje here
ne pac meshire te mbetem i gjalle

 

PANTALLONAT E INTERNIMIT

Pantallonat e mia
të mbytura në andre,
i lante Burbi,
pa mundur t'ua hiqte dot vuajtjen.

Pantallonat e mia si dite te shngjyrosura,
varur tek dere e kooperativës,
ne gozhden e dryshkur të internimit.

Era së largu m'i përkund ne kujtesë
fytyrë e pashlyer e mjerimit.

 

MË FAL, POEZI

U nisa drejt teje në agimin e jetës,
Si fëmijë i larë e i ndërruar.
Ecja. Shpresat ushqeja: një ditë do te mberrija tek ti.
Cikloni i tmerrshëm ma mjegulloj rrugën.
Më fal, poezi.