5.3.09

E. E. Cummings

diku ku s’kam udhetuar kurre, kenaqshem pertej


diku ku s'kam udhetuar kurre, kenaqshem pertej
cdo pervoje, syte tuaj kane qetesine e tyre;
ne levizjen tuaj me te brishte jane gjerat qe me rrethojne mua
ose gjerat qe nuk i prek dot ngaqe jane shume afer

veshtrimi me i lehte i yti lehtesisht me cmbyll
ndonese vetveten si gishterinjte e kam mbyllur
ti m’i hap nje e nga nje petalet e vetes sime si pranvera
(qe prek fshehtazi, mjeshterisht) trendafilin e saj te pare

ose nese ti deshiron te jesh prane meje, une dhe
jeta ime do te mbyllemi mrekullisht, papritur
sic zemra e kesaj luleje imagjinon
deboren kujdesshem kudo duke rene;

asgje qe ne do ndijojme kesaj bote nuk krahasohet
me forcen e brishtesise tende te bollshme: thurrja e kujt
me detyron me ngjyrat e vendeve te tij;
vdekja e lajmeruar dhe pergjithnje me frymemarrjet e seciles

(une nuk e di se cfare te ty mbyllet
e hapet; vetem dicka brenda meje kupton
qe zeri i syve te tu eshte me i thelle se gjithe trendafilat)
askush, madje as shiu, nuk ka duar kaq te vogla

perktheu kunder deshires (sepse ky autor shijohet vetem ne origjinal): artan gj. hasani


somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond



somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

any experience,your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near



your slightest look will easily unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose



or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing



(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands