Sample Poems

Issue 5

Sample Poem

Names with asterisks link to bios.

Sanne

Poplars by the Lake

Leif Ericson

Nusch

Soup from Breadcrumb

Plepat e liqenit
Plepat në breg të liqenit–
mbretër patriarkë të vjeshtës.

Me cilin grep do ta zë
peshkun e artë të ëndrrës?

Çdo gjethe, që fluturon nga degët
është dhe një zog përralle.

Në breg të liqenit unë rri përballë
skeptrave të plepave viganë.

E qesh me hierarkinë e tyre stinore
e muzgun e papritur që i shkurorëzon.

Mbi to ndoshta dëbora do të bjerë
si kapak i bardhë sarkofagu.

Kurse trupi im do të bëhet brigje,
ku brenda do të shkëlqejë liqeni!

written 1972
*Moikom Zeqo

Moikom Zeqo, born in Durrës, Albania, in 1949, is the author of more than 20 volumes of poetry, as well as many novels, children's books, monographs, and scholarly articles on Albanian history, archaeology, and literature. Albania's former Minister of Culture, Zeqo directed the National Historical museum in Tirana for much of the last decade. Today, he works as a freelance writer and journalist. "Poplars by the Lake" is from I Don't Believe in Ghosts: Poems from Meduza, a full-length collection that BOA Editions will publish in 2007. When Zeqo first tried to publish the collection in Albania, he was officially upbraided for producing work deemed "hermetic," "modern," "dangerous," and "foreign" and the collection was suppressed until 1995.

Poplars by the Lake

Poplars by the lake–
patriarchs of autumn.

Which hook will catch
the golden fish of a dream?

Each falling leaf
is a bird from a fairytale.

Sitting by the water
before the scepters of giant poplars,

I smile at their seasonal power
and the sudden darkness that steals their crowns.

Snow will fall on them
like the white lid of a sarcophagus.

While my body will become the shore
in which the lake shines.

Poplars by the Lake

Poplars by the lake–
patriarchs of autumn.

Which hook will catch
the golden fish of a dream?

Each falling leaf
is a bird from a fairytale.

Sitting by the water
before the scepters of giant poplars,

I smile at their seasonal power
and the sudden darkness that steals their crowns.

Snow will fall on them
like the white lid of a sarcophagus.

While my body will become the shore
in which the lake shines.