Photo by Kaman Cipi

Dalan Luzaj
Writer

Bio
Dalan Luzaj was born in the Southern city of Vlora in 1944. 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.

Ka botuar:
Jeta me gjeti vetėm (Life found me quite Alone) was published in 1995;
Diejt tė largėt (Distant Suns), in 1996; and
Pa Rrugė (Routeless) is scheduled for publication in summer 2003.

from the collection LIFE FOUND ME QUITE ALONE
translated by Zana Banci and Anthony Weir

ENGLISH VERSION:

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 VERSION:

VITRINĖ

Xhepa tė ftohtė,
xhepa tė shpuar,
era e mėngesit i flladit,
era e mbrėmjes u hedh pikėllim.

Digjet shtrati nga avujt e nxehte,
ndėrsa buka
shkėlqen
nė vitrinė.

I QASEM LULES

I qasem lules.

Kur e mbaj nė duar
ėshtė e gjitha e imja.

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

Duke bėlbėzuar fjalė prej fėmije

EMIGRANTI

Kur hyn nė orbitėn e vrullit dhe shpreses
njeh forcėn shtytėse qė kurre s'ndalon,
sado qė t'i qepet maratonės se jetės,
ngelet nė pjesėn qė gabon.

NJĖ DITĖ ME DIELL

Kjo ėshtė pėr ty qė mbete larg;

ne mund ta sjellėsh pak ndėr mend
njė shpirt i ri qė digjej flake,
njė gur qė ende s'ka zėnė vend.

Mė vjen e shkuara ndėr kujtime,
ekran i mjergullt, me pake natė;
njė ditė me diell ish jeta ime
kur ty tė njoha.
Ēast i artė.

PLAGĖ

Erdhi jeta e me gjeti vetėm,
jashtė rruge, tė heshtur, syhapur,
i prita goditjet me pamje tė qetė,
me buzagazin e dhimbjes sė zgjatur.

Erdhi jeta e mė gjeti vetėm,
tė dal prej vetmisė s'kam se si.
Nuk mė rinon as i gjithė kontinenti,
plagėt, kur verenjten, mė therin nė gji.

SYTĖ

Gjithēka vjetėrohet,
qoftė njė mrekulli e rrallė.
Vetėm sytė janė tė rinj.

Shikome dhe nje here
ne pac meshire te mbetem i gjalle

PANTALLONAT E INTERNIMIT

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

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

Era sė largu m'i pėrkund ne kujtesė
fytyrė e pashlyer e mjerimit.

MĖ FAL, POEZI

U nisa drejt teje nė agimin e jetės,
Si fėmijė i larė e i ndėrruar.
Ecja. Shpresat ushqeja: njė ditė do te mberrija tek ti.
Cikloni i tmerrshėm ma mjegulloj rrugėn.
Mė fal, poezi.