Hamdi Meça

THE EYES FALLEN IN LOVE WITH THE WORLD

Poet
Plant what you can but not your pen growing words
Although it is so alike to vine scions
Colleague, go and plant seedlings, do plant seedlings
Not just one or two of them to commemorate the perpendicular and yourself
Let all the sound-minded people of the planet
One by one, go and plant seedlings, I say
And once again, yes, once again, have the whole earth covered
In wild flora and fauna like it used to be on the first day of its creation. This is progress
This is not regress. The Garden of Eden can once again descend from Heavens
Sacred Eva no longer bites ‘the forbidden apple’
But the worm of the ‘coded apple’ – no, not the code key
The worm that became an empire of weapons in the course of history
To shoot complete souls and tattered souls
For example, the worm became wooden arrows
The worm became stone knives and hayforks
The worm became bronze hooks and iron axes
The worm became steel swords and cannon shells
The worm became rifle bullets and rope knots
The worm became clutches stabbing throats, and nuclear warhead rockets
Besides the worm rather than the dirt did rot every Prophet’s corpse
If forestry is possible in our ‘earthly universe’
I am Gulliver travelling to distant lands
Jonathan Swift holds the copyright for the book, but not for the character
O forestry in the ‘earthly universe,’ justice may come with delay
Justice has always come with delay, but hope never tarries a moment
The eyes show the hope that forestry will resurrect
The eyes of the people fallen in love with the world
And just a single tiny detail of them suffices. But what about the eyes of animals, of birds
Of plants, and of other living creatures?
A letter of chromosomes is the look of these eyes
Fallen in love with the world, yes, it is a letter of chromosomes
Passing from one emotion to the other, the opposite one
What a miracle! 46 chromosomes live in a single cell
23 coming from your mother, 23 coming from your father
I protest, dreaming of forestry, I protest
All of you, old and young, join me in the protest
I also invite President Bortolazzi and ‘230,000
Poets and writers of the World Union of Poets residents
In the states of the planet’ to join me in the protest
From now on
Let this letter of the light of the eyes fallen in love with the world
No more, never more, be used to wrap up candies of impulses
Of desire
In blind love
In empty love
In fulfilled love
In romantic love
In conjugal love
In virtual love
In dreamt love
In perfect love
In love devoid of love
With its instincts, those lab white mice
Let this letter ‘SPIRITUM’ become a law forcing
Pharmaceutical industries
To write down the medication descriptions.

English translation by Ukë ZENEL Buçpapaj

ACCORDING TO THEIR HORMONAL FANTASY

What does the long lasting sound say?

I mean the ‘Schachter-Singer’ of emotions
Yes, according to their hormonal fantasy
Each other’s agreement as harmonious as the couple’s nose holes
Saint Valentine’s cassock covering the darkness
‘I am the sky,’ he says from above her body, in fact, he is giving breath to her
‘I am the earth,’ she says from under his body, in fact, she is taking breath from him
The apology of ‘giving and taking’ breath in no way is a deviation
From the people’s and plants’ photosynthesis of ‘giving and taking’
Overwhelmed with rampancy, they soon change their positions
‘I am the earth,’ now he says from under her body
‘I am the sky,’ now she says from above his body
And the spine rings
Take the shape of the ‘sky that is he or she’
And the spine rings
Take the shape of the ‘earth that is she or he’
They catch at minutes to rise to their feet
Putting their index fingers to each other’s nose
O the human nose is the first church belfry, I say
Why not?
‘Your thigh,’ he calls her long finger at his nose
‘Your flesh extension,’ she calls his slightly arched finger at her nose
They make up their minds to enter cosmos. How? What door should they choose?
They both stay inside the ring of each other’s eyes
Open the ring to infinity, cosmos is waiting for you there
Yes, according to their hormonal fantasy
NASA has not yet found out
That all its missiles and satellites are ghosts of loves
Occupying the orbits. What about ghosts of graves?
Political clerics wearing masks
Fable only about ghosts
So do the deafening theoretical psychologists
Claiming that ghosts are ‘telepathic products’ or ‘collective hallucinations’
But how do I define them? Let me take the risk! Ghosts explore
They may perhaps be geographic discoverers of our world
Lovers mostly live the inexistent
No one keeps excessive kilograms for himself
He gives them to his partner. The overfilling of the crystalline membranes occurs.
They both stay inside the ring of each other’s eyes
Open the ring to infinity, cosmos is waiting for you there
Yes, according to their hormonal fantasy
Quite unknowingly
They both flee to Dante Aligner’s celestial visions
What presents should they give to each other?
They youngsters’ dilemmas always
Facing the ancient Shakespearian one
‘To be, or not to be, that is the question’
She is amazed
At the comet tail of the blind love
He is tempted and attracted by the black hole of the ‘imprisoning morality’
‘No! No! No!’ he yells refraining himself and avoiding that great danger
When women do shopping, they always tarry
He finds the present for her
“Cinderella’s shoes with heels made of Pinocchio’s nose’
‘Do they suit her?’ he grins slightly
He discovers a pair of celestial bodies
To give her to wear as shoes
So that from the cosmos high over there
She can stab them
Of whom she complains when her flames of love begin to die away
Them
The evil eyes
With their heels reaching the earth.

English translation by Ukë ZENEL Buçpapaj

THE HOWLING METAPHOR

During judicial hearings

Courts can go so far as to close their doors
But not their windows, no, in no case, in no circumstance
The Palace of Justice must leave all its windows open, let the law decide
The wind, the fair witness taking neither the side of the word nor that of its breath
The ship was sunk, and the wind certainly witnessed the event
The silhouette of the shadow on the water’s amazing mirror
As well as the ship’s ‘surfing tracks’ disappeared inside the waves
Even the ship abides by the law of transformation ‘it is and it is not’
Thus, the roofless ship on the water
Turned into a roofed house under the water
With rowed tiles of waves floating over it
Inside there the ‘playful currents’
Their long smooth craggy thighs entwined
The hedgehog lures, pulls and sucks the little fish
Filling its mouth hole with it
The metaphor at the bottom of the water goes crazy like men over 60 do
It cannot help growing larger
Acnes, ‘acnes the size of cockles’, cover its whole body
Slipping off the face and fingers of the deity of the seas
The giant nymph loads the sea on her shoulders
And howls
“Better spend a night with freedom inside your skin
Than 100 hundred years of slavery outside it.’

English translation by Ukë ZENEL Buçpapaj