Five Poems by Alisa Velaj Translated into English by Arben Latifi

TULIPS ARE FALLING FROM THE AIR

Tulips are falling from the air, tulips 

on the rooftop of our wooden chalet,

on my arms stretched toward you,

white tulips beyond the window as well...

Addicted to abundance,

he gapes at the tulips and swoons with covet: 

"My dear, let more and more pour down,

so you and I at times hide in their midst..."

My weird darling,

with his weird greed for tulips...

Translated from Albanian by Arben P. Latifi




ABIGAIL



This afternoon of ours, Abigail, is a seagullish one;

the breadcrumbs that I toss for you over waters

are specks of light upon the lucid land!



Let vastness and wonderment wow you, little girl!

your childishness is our waltz under this sky

for waves apt to hustle and bustle, often at random...
Let the unexpected wow and stun you,
o princess of waters,
for the golden mist around your hair
features the dream of the Eden gardens!



It's a seagullish afternoon, Abigail;

flights flap their wings across endless seas,

where salty waters still remain insipid...
A seagullish afternoon, Abigail!
Abigail, Abigail,
you beamlet of light to this world!



Translated into English by Arben Latifi




WHEN THE LIGHT BULB...

When my light bulb shines at its best,
like a mini-sun behind trees undressed,
you bid me to stop my runaway song, my Lord!

You bid me to even forsake the bloom
of a season that goes off and comes
back to then go off again...

You bid me toward the light bulb that is lit,
bright and glittering like an angel's wing,
Milord!



Translated into English by Arben Latifi




SHEOL, SHEOL..*

[A gender-free lament in plural]



Songs sung to our lands.

Songs of sorrow, screams, or sheer satisfaction,

sung on our doorsteps.

Songs sung in foreign lands.

To those distant lands.

Songs sung on doorsteps to those foreign lands,

or songs of foreign lands on our doorsteps.

(Everyone will, at some point, live a mental exile).

Songs, songs, songs—endlessly;

after endlessness, yet another endlessness,

with different songs,

even though still with the same screams...
Nobody even thinks of migrating

away from your catacombs, Sheol...

Nor away from your songs, either!


*Sheol -the abode of the dead in early Hebrew thought.

Translated into English by Arben Latifi

BREATH

- 1 -

misty tulips a mist of tulips of tulips of tulips

a morning spread like a dream over rivers...
don't you wake up Atlas's son don't don't
let him sleep with his head resting on a pillow of tulips

- 2 -

white tulips son's light light

yellow tulips son's sun sun

red tulips red red

father's sunset like fire through backbone fire

- 3 -

a mist of purple over rivers over rivers

the dreamy migrates anew from tulip to tulip

purple in a bed of mist purple

a sweet melody of river of fire

Alisa Velaj was shortlisted for the annual international Erbacce-Press Poetry Award in UK in June 2014. Her works have appeared in more than 100 print and online international magazines in Europe, UK, USA, Australia, Israel and India. Her publications include Erbacce Journal, Red Door Magazine. Stockholm Literally Review, Expanded Field Journal, Poetry Sotland, Lethe Literary and Art Journal, The Ofi Press Magazine, A New Ulster, Poetry Space, Haaretz, The Linnet’s Wings, Stag Hill Literary Journal, Orbis Magazine, The Quarterly Review etc etc. Her poetry collection, With No Sweat At All, will be published soon by Cervana Barva Press in USA. In 2020, Alisa Velaj was awarded The National Prize in Poetry from the Ministry of Culture in Albania.