Mimoza Ahmeti
Mimoza Ahmeti Poems
Wait a moment, the fevers will be singing within me,
Tiny groans will be heard, terribly subtle,
In the heights of the brain, from the holes of the heart...
...
You are going, you are leaving us,
Thinking it's 'forever.'
Fleeing from this, which is yours, ours,
...
Senses, oh my first victims,
You are open again, you are sucking again, cleansed
You return to life.
...
You were once blue-coloured. You have grown dark.
Do you not know what this means?
Remember how my ray
Shot into your sky like an arrow.
...
Are the names of kings, merchants and diplomats
Once again to be imposed on memory?
Oh, this mad history will not succeed in arousing
The slightest feelings among the generations.
...
When love is not a means
Wondrous worlds emerge, stars shatter,
Colours vibrate to the sounds of immortality,
...
Oh, eternal and omnipotent silence,
From you I arose, in an endeavour
To return to you.
But, more arduous is the going back...
I was a child at the time,
Now I am grown.
...
I do not want you to write about your separation,
Separation is not worthy of your muse
For your verse exchanges signals
Even with the coldest, the most distant star.
...
Mummy,
Don't let anyone but you read this letter,
Not because it's secret, I'm just not strong enough yet
...
You know well how to disguise
The pallor of your cheeks with rouge,
But how do you intend to disguise
The pallor of your soul?
...
Oh, race of the steers of passion
Which gives life to my veins,
Oh, tranquillity of oppression, stoic observation, the pulsing
...
My foe,
Often you have insulted me in the most subtle way,
Often I have insulted you in the most shallow way,
My foe.
...
I love Campari sooooooo much.
My wife, no, she doesn't drink it.
I talk to her for five minutes a week
And I'm not number one in her books.
Oh, I'm just mad about Campari...
...
Wretched notions
In a solitary space you composed,
I cross inertia in your company,
Into my space composed of me,
As into a town from which all have just fled
forever
...
Mimoza Ahmeti Biography
Mimoza Ahmeti (born 1963) is an Albanian writer. Born in Kruja, she has been described as one of the enfants terribles of the nineties. After two volumes of verse in the late eighties, the fifty-three poems in the collection Delirium, Tirana 1994 (Delirium), caught the public's attention. Mimoza Ahmeti's poetry has been well received by the new generation of readers in tune, for the first time, with Western culture. Her most recent book is The Pollination of Flowers. Ahmeti has published widely and her books have been translated into Italian, French and English. Although best known for her poems, she has also written short stories and articles. She has ventured into music, participating in several Albanian music festivals, as well as painted a series of nudes. Ahmeti was a candidate for the Democratic Party of Albania in the 2001 local Tirana elections, in which she was defeated. Ahmeti won in the Festival of Poetry of San Remo, 1998, organized by RAI UNO. She also appeared in the second edition of the Albanian version of Dancing with the Stars.)
The Best Poem Of Mimoza Ahmeti
Delirium
Broken,
sombre,
venomous
I stand, light-emitting,
Honey flows from my fissures,
Shattered at my weakest point,
Alone and abandoned,
A state that causes harm to no one,
But me it destroys
In pain
Which drips with the sweet aroma
Of blood crushed
In solitude.
Oh, ingenious is this state,
For as I come to understand that I have lost everything,
I sense the infinite pleasure
Of having in hand
My own being
Which
Neither praise nor crown
Could ever have bestowed on me.
Praise! What word is this?
How did it reach me?
How did it come?
An invention!
(Certainly
Some base, unnatural
Ambition) .
I return whence I came, and arrive at nature.
Here I stand, want to judge it, but once again withdraw.
How fair and yet mortal is man,
How hearty and yet lonely.
Such strength and such suspicion...
Oh, unceasingly
You survey that inert unwinding in flight.
Everything absolute becomes unexpected.
Has only beauty the right
To pretend?
Why do you shun me, real creatures,
In a fugitive transformation, my today
Became my yesterday,
So swiftly that it was beyond my comprehension
(do you think there is life without that?)
Desire is yearning for a tomorrow
Which is not mine.
Why do you shun me, real creatures,
I live a life of objects forever inexistent
And have only myself in my hands...
Oh, is there any greater bliss than this?
Could there be any greater sorrow?
Mimoza Ahmeti Comments
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