Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Deji Adesoye
Changming Yuan
Violeta Allmuca
Beppe Costa
Engjell I. Berisha
Narendra Kumar Arya
Akwu Sunday Victor
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Laszlo Slomovits
Stefania Battistella
Agron Shele
Lana Bella
Fahredin Shehu
Alan Britt
Silvia Scheibli
Shutta Crum
Running Cub
Alex Ferde

Irsa Ruci
Jennifer Burd
Paul B. Roth
Richard Gartee
Elisavietta Ritchie
Peycho Kanev
Helen Gyigya
Amit Parmessur
Sneha Subramanian Kanta
Robert Nisbet

Jeton Kelmendi
Duane Locke

Lyn Lifshin

Richard Lynch
Jean McNerney
Fred Wolven


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2017 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
------------------------------------------------

AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 47 years all together....

------------------------------------------------

staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

 

HOW TO REACH YOURSELF

 

Passing through countries

Crossing fields, mountains and seas everything that

The World has

As a traveler accompanied by night and day which are our friends

I visit the minutes in my life

Until I meet you

Hey

What are you doing here

Every time I enter inside

Myself

I see you

At every cross road

From one of your scars

From a green light

Of mine

Your eyes are shining in the sky

My trip

Was very long

Through these roads

In which only I had to step on them

I pass them quickly

While being oriented

With your signs

Hey

Strange man

What time is it

What is the date today

Do you know the month

The year

It is a good year

When I passed the road named EGNATIA
Two ladies sat on the grass
Were waiting for me
One appeared to me
Like the sun
The other as the moon
When I came close to
Them again you were
The first lady
The second
Was Love
The guidance of eternity
We talked for long hours
For the things that matter
And not for nothingness
How much we emptied
The creeks of the words
Until I thought that
This is for sure
A magic world
And I departed to return again
To myself

 

Through those signs guiding myself
Right in the middle of the road
Of return
I was invited by a mountain fairy
As we were nearing
Each other
I was scared
I begged her
Not to look at me
I am a traveler
And I am returning to myself

She is soft
And blessed me from the earth

And the sky
Indeed appeared as a familiar voice

Hey miracle
Even here you appeared to me
It is late
Now I am continuing my trip
I may be arriving tomorrow
 

Who
Had the possibility to travel this far
I was asking the poet who appeared
as I was looking for
What I did not know
And with the softness of the morning
I arrived
At the door of the spirit
Two rays were waiting for me
Hey man
We are meeting again
You and me and my princess
Now I have to accept
That you inside myself

Are only myself
All this voyage
To arrive in yourself
 

      Paris, March 28, 2009

 

 

Jeton Kelmendi, Kosovo and Belgium

Translator: Peter M. Tase, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

 


Ann Arbor Review   |   Home    |  next   previous  |  Back to Top