Agron Mesi: Brezni të kaluem nën vijën e lakueme të nji harku

Ka ngjyrë

Diku edhe pak gri

                                                                                                    Anna Akhmatova

Solitude

So many stones flew at me all times,

That no one of them now is feared.

Into the tower, peer to the highest ones,

Is changed a trap, before for me contrived.

I grateful to builders of high walls,

Let them be missed by sadness and by troubles.

From here I early see the scarlet downs,

Here celebrate the last beams of the sunsets.

And oft through windows, with which my chamber sees, 

Flow in the fresh winds of the northern seas;

A dove eats wheat from my hand, calmly sittin’,

And the same page that was not fully written,

will be forth written to its happy end

By blessed, calm, light and swarthy Muse’s hand. 

veç me e pa

qoftë edhe pas portës teme

Edgar Allan Poe

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were; I have not seen

As others saw; I could not bring

My passions from a common spring.

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I loved, I loved alone.

Then- in my childhood, in the dawn

Of a most stormy life- was drawn

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still:

From the torrent, or the fountain,

From the red cliff of the mountain,

From the sun that round me rolled

In its autumn tint of gold,

From the lightning in the sky

As it passed me flying by,

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view.

 çilet pak kaltërsi

pak t'kuqe në natë

Alda Merini

Spazio spazio io voglio                

frymëmarrja asht dritë

Spazio spazio io voglio, tanto spazio
per dolcissima muovermi ferita;
voglio spazio per cantare crescere
errare e saltare il fosso
della divina sapienza.
Spazio datemi spazio
ch'io lanci un urlo inumano,
quell'urlo di silenzio negli anni
che ho toccato con mano.