The poetry of Katjusha Pogaci touches our heart!
A great age of literature is perhaps always a great age of translation”Ezra Pound Translating a poetry collection by the poetess, Katjusha Pogaci, it’s an amazing experience. I tried to keep to traditional verse form because rhythm, musicality and pace are intrinsic to Katjusha’s poetry. Her poetry is a poetry that looks into the heart of things, warmth, tenderness, understanding, kindness, love, affections and respect for the dignity in human personality. It strengthens our interest in human nature, elevates the drooping spirit, intensifies our aspiration toward the good and the beautiful in all that surrounds us, and tends to raise the level of our lives by helping us to see the essentials of life more clearly. Written by Raimonda MOISIU
Why poets grieve through!
The poets suffer and grieve through, ‘Cause they know the value,To the word they use! The poets are crushed byThe weight of the word, Some people use the words, Like picking the tomatoes, But them (Poets) that’s not!
Inspired by the muses, The poets suffer and sweat,Putting the words together, In such a way, be careful How you talk to the poets,Because words can hurtThe Poet’s Feelings!
Friday June 1, 2012(Published in the poetry book, “A cup of sun”)
PSE VUAJNË POETËT –
Poetët vuajnë se vlerësojnë fjalën,Për ta fjala ka peshë tjetër,Disa i shesin fjalët si domatetPor jo poetët.
Ata vuajnë bashkë me fjalën,Bashkë me të djersiten, Prandaj, kujdes kur flisni me poetëtSe nga fjala vriten.
BALKAN
The Balkan, where we live in, It’s you and it’s me, Yes a noun, and a verb, Into the roots, in the history, Holding on together with ballads,Through the War and beyond the haze,
Bal-Kan* (Forehead)
The Balkans has, So proudly throughout the ages!
Bal-Kan,A thought storm in the mind, The hope in the air, With eyes like sparks, Passion and romance,So amazing portrait, Suffering and legends, But often holding a grudge,Like a starving beast inside the chest!
Only the rivers run, And only they run free, They run over you,They run over me, As the torrential rains, Running far away,White Drin, -The Goddess, Black Drin, – The Prince!
Balkan, sheltered by mountains Balkan, storms of troubles, Woods and valley creeks, People and borders,Native tongues and quiet lakes, Through the fire and flames,The ground beneath roars, And the earth’s crust breaks!
But one does arouse us, While the other spies on…
Balkan,It’s not far beyond geography, It’s a part of this world, “Cause we’ve got a history, Where kinds of lute still being played,And out where the waves crash on Weird and tragic shores!
High on the tragic mountains…The clouds are angry, The winds are restless, While the evil tongues yell in anger….
But deep in the spirit,You hold onto your hope, Your hope is big,It’s a beautiful hope, In the mirror of the times,That holds all the treasures, You could see and then you’d understand, That you’re not afraid to lose them!
Set them all in a single necklace,And it’s yours forever!
Tuesday January 23, 2001
*The word Bal-kan, in which there are two words with different meaning in Albanian language and it comprises meaning, “Ball” (Forehead), and the other word “kanë”, it comprises meaning, “to have”.
Ballkan
Ballkani ku ne jemi, Jam unë, je dhe ti Një emër dhe një folje Në rrënjë, në histori, Bashkë me baladat Luftë edhe mjegull, Ball – kanë këta popuj Të rëndë në shekujt.
Ball – kanë E, në ballë Mendimin stuhi, Shpresën nëpër erë Shkëndijat në sy, Pasion dhe legjenda Portretin e bukur, Por shpesh rri mëria Thellë bishë e strukur.
Veç lumenjtë ecin, Vrapojnë si veri Vijnë tek unë, Vijnë dhe te ti, Si krushq të rrëmbyer Vrapin n’arrati Nuse Drini i Bardhë,Dhëndër Drini i Zi. Ballkan me kaq male, Ballkan me kaq halle,Pyje e lumenj, Popuj e kufij, Gjuhë e liqenj Zjarr edhe shkëndi… Nëntoka flet, Mbitoka gjëmon Njëra rizgjohet E tjetra përgjon…
S’je veç gjeografi, Je dhe ti një botë, Ku bien lahuta E përplasen dallgë, Brigjeve tragjikë Maleve tragjikë… Retë kreshpërohen Erërat ngatërrohen E gjuhët këlthasin.
Porse thellë në shpirt Ti me shpresën luan, Shpresa jote e madhe Bukuri e hajthme, Në pasqyrë kohësh Reflekton thesare Shikoi, kuptoi Dhe s’ke për t’i humbur.
Bashkoi gjerdan Që t’i kesh përfare…
E martë, 23 janar 2001
Let’s make peace like a sky!
Let’s make peace like a skyOn the wrinkled face of the dream And believing that someday The peace will come,And it will make us one!
Peace will come, and together, We will get there!
Maybe in another time, When the fragrance of peace, It would seem far behind us, Like a slice of toasted white bread, After feeling hungry and tired,Like seeking for clear water in a desert, Like a blazing fire in this bitter world, When the weird figures that come out, Flinging the flakes of flame, In this unreal game, That burns deep inside of us!
Now and then, we will be there!
But, after all, It’s a long road to walk, Along the old and dusty paths, With lots scrapes all over the face, Scratching in and up under the skin, Scratching out our eyes, And deep in our soul!
The cave of the beasts and snakes in a hole, All tied up, in endless trap.
Ah, the road,It’s a long road And we all must take as The first step is the last one!
And walking that same road,I don’t know what I’d do, And if I could make out, I don’t know where to go!
From there, Catching each ray upon the light-Side by side sticking togetherSeeing flashes of light behind the eyes,
You know, you walk,You walk, you learn!