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For me, it is a big responsibility to listen to his toast whilst reciting William Blake –
Tiger! Tiger!
Burning bright / In the forests of the night, then reciting my
Tigar in albanian
Tigri takon macen eg-
jiptiane.
Oh, tiger, tiger
Hiding
your teeth
Under a too tender skin.
Overnight we started our trip over the mountain Qaf Krrab, in free translation meaning
the Inverted Neck. The road being steep and slippery, we drank a
substantial quantity of the
beer and wine, but the Albanian brandy as well, without which it would be ipossible to live here.
Yet, I'm, certain I have no fear of either the name or the mountain itself. I've been over
this mountain before. I know, things we suspect or fear, and those we start to believe in,
grow and burst as time goes on, and it might cost us our own lives, or on the other hand save us trou-
ble and danger. That's why I cling to the stars, the beauty, I try to soar up yielding myself to a god-
like mission by own to this road and this mountain. In the dark, under the lantern lit restaurant with
its constructed supporting walls preventing the possibility of it sliding into an abyss, I watch the water
flowing
down the road over the edges, leaking from the mountatin itself.
While we climb
the steep slope, the water
Descends to the valley
Finally I'm in the belly of Albania, in its navel – in Elbasan.
Such a nice name, like Labrador
or Senegal. It's all the same how you see the regions, as young or as old, cold or warm, they
are both. Their long living has been gained by renewal, sometimes even by a renewal of small things,
just like my Zadar. These small matters, giving Elbasan a good spirit of everlasting light are the
rows of orange trees, full of ripe fruit, along side of the city streets. Giving them everlasting living
colour is the shadow of the Phoenix soaring all the time between a good and evil spirit. And just like
at dawn, in this January time, above Elbasan glides the dust, some kind of a misty smog covering the
whole ravine Shkumbin where the city of Elbasan lies. It does not seem to be the smog from the ce-
ment industry, the refinery close by or times ago the biggest metallurgical industry on an area bigger
even
than the town itself, but it appears to be the town's dewy soul.
Morning dew
Staining an orange
And refreshed it.
In the hotel 'Four Seasonsof the Year' my friend Milianov Kallupi waits for me; the president of the
Association of Albania's writers, the Elbasan branch and the president of the Haiku Club of Albania, a
haiku poet, an editor in the publishing house 'Egnatie' which published my book
Velebit. With him is
Kujtim Agalliu, the translator of
Velebit. Arriving are ma dear colleagues, the poetessess Mariana
Meta Hushi and Lida Lazaj, here is Ferit Rama and Nexhip Bashllari, and the writer Mustafa Shapiu,
whom I met 24 years ago, he comes from Macedonia.
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Just a bunch of friends, as it is proper in Elbasan, perhaps the only town in the world where we cele-
brate the Flower Day.
In a distant town
Full of
spring flower bunches
He brought a flower
Milianov Kallupi and I greet each other on the occasiosn of our birthdays, both of us having a birthday
on same day, January 18, both born at dawn. He presents me with a manuscript of this new haiku col-
lection. My gaze stopped on the haiku about hoar frost in the window pane. Only one finger is
enough to wake the flowers on it. A tender touch of warmth. The breath. A honey-bee like a touch
of the finger-tip on the frozen glass pane is enough to make a change in the world. Is it the very first
cry we let out on long ago in January of 1947, whilst our mothers watched the hoar frost in the win-
dow pane becoming awakened flowers?
Our mothers
Watching
the same star
Far away, at night.
The guests are arriving at the Elbasan Central City Library, where Milianov celebrates his 60th birth-
day, inviting me as well. The Mayor of Elbasan arrives, too, the senators from Parliament, writers,
artists, painters, singers, musicians, pupils and students. On learning that I'm in Elbasan, Šefki Aliu
had come even from Tetovo (Macedonia), he is the owner of the pastry shop 'Donat' in Zadar. Here
are many people I had met two years ago and it is not easy to remember all the names. Here is Zyhdi
Morava, the president of the Albania' writers. So many of them, I cannot greet them all.
Even without words
We are fine,
just fine
While we look at each other.
At the celebration in Elbasan I was pronounced a honorary member of the Albania's
Association of Writers, the Elbasan branch and the Haiku Club of Albania. My membership
card carries number 1. The Albanian journal for haiku poetry,
Haiku No. 5 from 2007
Published in Elbasan, is dedicated to my haiku collection
Velebit, which
was accepted with
great attention by the public. It is the same attention I have been encircled with this time, as well.
There are interviews for radio and TV waiting for me, in tomorrow's newspaper will be my poems
from the poetry collection '
Tigar' printed, the whole book being translated by Jehona i Mustafa Spa-
hiu.
Now I'm happy
For the same reasons I'll be sad
At the farewell.
While leaving Elbasan, my faithful guide and translator, Viktor Perfundi, the originator of this Croa-
tian-Albanian connection, a poet himself, shows me his Librazhd. It is nice to know a man who has
not prejudice about his dwelling, far away in the mountains.