Even the stars die


Valiu was shocked. It was not a dancing. It was a storm, flame and fire, was a call and a clarion for war. It was the scream for the life and contempt for the death. Arnaut blew in the face his contempt. The shameless! The heart began to beat strongly and in the chest he felt a vinegary constraint. Arnauti was kidding with him, he became brave and despised death. With that dance he reminded him the dikes and soldiers who were killed and cut in the woods and gorges. What about that bridge? He wanted to confess that if they infringed even on their bodies, they would continue to fight from generation to generation. With this dance he had said what he couldn’t say with words. He had spoken with his body. Since there are no guns and other opportunities, as it seems he wants to kill me with this dance, thought Vali that the constraint of the heart was becoming heavy.
-What do you think about this dance, Myderiz Efendi?
-The jinn have entered in the body of Arnaut, Vali Pasha. He thinks the rope is a baby’s toy.
Vali also asked his grace Dhespot. But Dhespoti raised his shoulders not knowing what to say and did the cross. “The christian feels good that they humiliate me”, – he thought.
In the garret, Gjylyzari, was fused and was made one with the dancer. The music entered in the soul and her whole being danced and became happy as in a divine ecstasy. In a moment of unconsciousness, he wanted to be there, with him out of that cruel cage. Not willingly he cried and pushed the cage with all the force he had, which was ripped off with grind. He wanted to be there at the square dance. Hava Hanemi managed to catch him and hold him not to plunge from the second floor of tower garret. People who were standing by turned there and released an “Oh!” Valide Hanemi almost fainted. She arose and went with haste in tower. Valiu shook his fists so much, as the nails entered in the skin. Gjylyzari left the garret and entered in. The dance had finished. He sat on the sofa. She was shocked and murdered soul, the body was numb, asthma was taking his breath, shed of tears made his sight foggy. She put her arms on the knees, bowed his head and started to hardly breath and cry. Hava Hanemi, even she’s shocked, tried to calm her daughter.
-No, – she said, – he shouldn’t die. He is so young and, oh God, forgive me! So handsome, so young, handsome Osman Taka. Osman very handsome! A peerless dancer who is not afraid of death but banter and deride it.
Crying so much, she pereated the same things, then she cried and a bad hiccup caught her. Hava sent the servant to call the madam. She said the same things to her mother and begged to seek her father to save the life of the handsome Osman.
While in tower were happening these things, the dance had finished. The violinists left. They didn’t want to see death after that triumph of life. The preparations for hanging the condemned were being made. The executioner, a black arap tied his hands behind the back, rode him over the wooden platform of the hanging square and put in his neck the rope chain that smell wax.
-I didn’t know that death smelled wax, – he said to the executioner. Then he folded in two a head scarf and wanted to tie his eyes.
-No, – said Osman quietly. – i want to see death in its eye!
A servant of the house approached to Vali, did cringe and mumble something in the ear. The vali flame red in the face rose and gave orders not to act without his orders. Everything froze.
In the great chamber broke disorders. He daughter ran towards him, hugged his knees and kissed his feet.
-Oh father, have mercy and forgive the life of Osman Taka! He is so young, so brave, so handsome…
Vali rose her daughter and sat her on the sofa.
-So much do you like him, you want to marry him?
-Gjylyzari assembled himself, a sudden grace fell in his face and the smile lightened his face, decline the eyes and answered her father as to talk to emptiness:
-Ah, if I had that destiny?!
The gall of his daughter raged Vali, he wanted to say severe words, to call her sluttish, bitch, perky, insolent, but he bite the tongue and didn’t let the words to get out the fence of the teeth. Hava Hanemi was there and the words would spread. All the people would mock with them.
-What about Valide Hanemi, what does she advice? – he addressed his wife.
-We have a single daughter; she is the light of our eyes and hope of our lives. Hope God will make you listen to this desire!
-Hanemi of mylazimi has anything to tell us?
Hava Hanemi herself was shocked and confused by how she had seen. Beauty and grace of that man was removed neither from the mind nor from the eyes.
-I am honored Vali Pasha that you ask even an advice by me. Make glad your single daughter and Valide Hanemi! You are their shelter and God. The empire doesn’t break because is forgiven the life to a heroic outlawer. The empire is not great, it has had and will always have trouble. The death of an Arnaut will not extinguish them.
-Highest and honorable ladies. You are three and beat me. A knowledgeable said that it is easier to command battalion with soldiers than the women of your house. But that rebel, unfaithful has dared to rise against Padishahu. They want to make Albania. But our Sultan, may God add the long-lived has a severe shade, in every corner of the empire. His punishment is God’s mercy.
He thought, put his cunning mind at work, called for help the oriental cunning and then he said to the ladies:
-May your will be done! I will forgive his life, but I will let death behind him.
The executioner, soldiers and people standing by were waiting. Osman Taka who was waiting for his life to end, with the rope chain in his neck, saw the sky birds that flew westward.
Vali approached the gallows. Executioner was about to kick the wooden bench. Vali raised his hand:
-Put off the rope! The hanging is postponed until a second order!
Lock the prisoner in the castle cornet.
It was a relief for everyone.
It was enough only the first part of the show, the human one and not the cruel. The sentence of Osman Taka was forgiven. The news spread everywhere. From Konispol came the horsemen that brought the white horse and he after had triumphed over death with the force of life and had given his name to a dance, flew to his hometown.

Resmi Osmani

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I myself sent her to death

By: Aqif Hysa

I myself sent her to death. Step by step.
She held on my arm tight. She feared falling.
We’d laugh until the end and beyond. We’d remain silent.
We’d go beyond word as though playing with toys.
We would phone the wind. Was last autumn’s wind.
The leaves would answer us. The leaves fallen on the road.
We’d play with the leaves. The leaves would play with us.
As though they were announcements. As though they were dolls.
We stood in front of the building. We pushed the door open. She entered inside.
She surrendered to white uniformity, to fragility.
She never came back. Whiteness had devoured her forever.

English Translation by:
Ukë Zenel Buçpapaj

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The Doe

The asphalted public road, terribly straight, lay among a wooded forest, always green and disappeared somewhere in the horizon. If you observed carefully, the horizon would give the idea of a loss or more exactly of a mixture of colours in a unique heinous colour, without a clear name, extremely provoking, hateful, terribly hateful… The eternal blue of the sky, the green of the trees and the grey of the asphalt melted away and that nameless colour rose…Oh, what a hateful colour!… Hateful and horrible at the same time, maybe because it was an eyesore with that view of a monotonous veil, which could arouse an immensity of corrosive feelings, exactly contrary to that sensation that the white veil of the bride arouses to the groom in front of the altar. That nameless colour would remind you the veil of death and it seemed as if the public road threw you away to Hell… Did that street lead you somewhere or not?!…
Behind the back, somewhere tremendously far away, started the city, with a grey colour too, as though the death had clutched it to the throat, smothering slowly the colours of the nature…
Where could you go?!… Behind the death’s door, alongside, to the left, to the right an immense forest, stately and tremendous, in front a frightful immensity… Hell…
– Oh! – I screamed with a howling voice that came from the profoundness of my chest.
– Oh God, give me the force to understand this mystery of the crossroads!
Surprisingly, without being in a desert crossroad, I was experiencing some ghoulish feelings. A tempting voice was intonating in my ear:
– Everywhere you go, you go and you don’t come back, everywhere you go, you go and…, everywhere you go…
Maybe I was lost in the lands of fairy-tales and who knows what kind of sylphs, dragons, divas and ghosts were going to come out of the forest to engulf me?!… Who knows?!…
I revaluated my situation and I couldn’t understand if I was dreaming or not, if I was asleep or awake, in this or in that world… I couldn’t explain to my self how I had arrived in this situation… It seemed as though I was robbed at my own home and so bewitched, I was left far away the humanity, in an extremely straight way, among an immense forest, me-the complete ignorant man… And that way couldn’t lead you anywhere. It could only fling you in the death’s lap…
It seemed as if a coma had me in its power, from which I couldn’t extract a reaction to myself, neither the finest muscular movement, as if my reasoning was numb, my instincts too, and I had no desire to move in any direction…As if I were a dried tree with the legs amidst the asphalt… And what can you expect from such a tree in a crossroad, immense everywhere?!
Suddenly something moved… Absolutely… I began to spy on it…
– Prrr, prrr!
It was an empty sound, like that of a piece of leather crumbled from the trunk of a dried tree… Was it an extraterrestrial sound? Maybe I have not good ears!
– Prrr, prrr!
The sound was repeated with the tempos and the dimensions of the real…It was an illusory sound, wasn’t it?!…
Excited by the sound-waves, I was constrained to turn sideways. And a lively ball that had rolled off the nearest pine close to the public road, appeared in front of my eyes. What was it? Was it a squirrel or a weasel?
The little ball opened and an extraordinary little animal, with a small oval gray face, took shape. It jumped on the back legs and caressed the face with the forefeet. Its small eyes brightened like the just burnt cinders. It wheeled round itself, wagged and shook the tail, which was bigger than its body, as though it wanted to brag with its pride, that fleecy mass, which was standing upwards, arching like an umbrella over the little head.
– Prrr, prrr! Prrr, prrr! – The sound was heard again and it seemed as if the small creature or a voice that I had heard once talked to me.
I froze.
– You don’t know me?!… You act as if you have never seen me before?!… I think that you have forgotten me!…Hi, hi, hi – exploded that creature with a human voice, followed with a derisive laughter and I don’t know why I had the idea that a nymph, a jinn or the Beauty of the Earth itself was hidden behind that little creature…
That voice sounded known as well as unknown and when the waves were still sounding, the silhouette of a girl, whom I had met once, somewhere, suddenly greyed…
– Poppet, you are? – I screamed instinctively and I felt a wave of warmth and vitality permeating into my freezing body.
– No, I am the Doe! – laughed the creature in front of my naive astonishment.
– The Doe?! Which Doe, because you are driving me crazy! – I sprang in myself and I felt released of that numbness that had seized my whole being.
– You have to know that I revived you from that madness that had invaded you! I am the Doe, the daughter of the Squirrel… I am the queen of this forest, – replied that jezebel, insulted in its dignity from my ignorance.
– Aha, you are the Doe! The queen of the forest! But it seems as if the death has devastated this forest, where are its habitants Your Majesty?! – I continued not less astonished and bewitched by the discourse of that mysterious creature which I still couldn’t remember where I had met in the past times, before losing the vivacity in that endless way…
– I am that Poppet, coming from the high mountains of Muji’s Fairy, I am not the Doe! You forgot me very soon… Which Doe are you talking about, you good boy?!
– The Poppet?!… The Poppet or the Doe, my beloved, because you are driving me crazy, with forests’ kingdoms and legends’ high mountains?!…
– You should thank me because I cleared up your memory from the magic of madness, you sleeping beautiful boy?!… Neither that Poppet nor the Doe can you remember?!… You deserve to stay in this endless way, like the bride’s and groom’s relatives, frozen from the Fairy’s power in Muji’s high mountains! – Interrupted me, really disappointed, the Poppet-Doe and immediately made a quick about-face, disappearing among the woods of the deserted forest…
The word “disappearance” itself used to terrify me; moreover I was really lost in a magical way that couldn’t lead me anywhere… Endless way… The death’s way… Suddenly the symbol of vivacity had appeared in this way and weirdly it was leaving me alone, with the veil of death, because I didn’t know how to deal with life…
– Oh God! Give me life to follow the life! – I screamed with all my force and I rushed as fast as possible to the forest, trying to pursue the Doe-Poppet…
I was running blindfold from the exasperation when I felt my head bumping into the pine’s trunk.
– I am here, above the fir! – I felt the familiar facetious voice.
That voice made my whole being shudder and it filled me with life and vivacity.
As if God’s power rejuvenated me at once to triumph over the uniformity of death…
– Hold on, Doe! – I shouted elated and nebulously I hugged the fir.
– I am the Poppet, not the Doe, you unmindful boy! I am at the pine sideways…
– I am chasing after you, Poppet. I am almost catching you…!
– I am the Doe…! The queen of the deserted forest… The daughter of the Plumed-Tail Squirrel, – laughed and made fun of me that melodic voice and I was ready to explode from the anger, from the inability I had in those moments…
The Poppet-Doe or the Doe-Poppet reminded me an invention of my imagination that used to caper only in the desert of my ill fantasy. And I crashed in the abysses of desperation, so tired of that unlucky hunting. So it passed a long time of drowsiness and of fighting with the desert pines and firs and my hunt didn’t appear anywhere, except its voice that was echoing everywhere…
In an instant I decided to give up living my life and to be submerged in the death’s lap. It was exactly then when the Poppet-Doe appeared in front of me, more captivating… It looked like a sparkling lightning plume and it was sufficient to fire it and, with the speed of light, it would permeate into all the spaces between the eternal green woods…
Although I was haggard, practically lost in the doze’s arms, I gathered strength to view with love that fantastic creature…
– It’s me. I am of meat and blood, I have a soul and I am mortal like you, but I know how to survive…Here I am, touch me if you want! – said all of a sudden the Poppet-Doe, the Queen of the forest, with a soft voice, very fond, burdened with regret notes, but I had no energy to move the fingers…
I noticed curiously her lips, the white teeth, small and sharp like all the gnawers, its small oval face, a little pinched from the eternal gymnastics of its kind along the forest woods, the forehead hair, that starry view, that time after time used to disappear under the crest of pride, that showed a rare feature of that being: the savage freedom, and I thought how difficult its domestication was…
– You don’t love me anymore?! – It furrowed the face and meantime, rushed and grasped my neck like a fur with magic warmth, which I had dreamt for so long…
What warmth…! It seemed as if I was hugging in my chest the Beauty of the Earth…
– Why, have I ever loved you?! – I murmured surprised.
– Always…but we have missed each other for so long…!
– Then, come, come with me! – I said and jumped with the idea that, being accompanied with this fabulous creature would drive crazy all my friends, who had acted high and mighty with those living creatures that moved around them…
With the passing of days, weeks, months and years my love for the Doe was not ending… Neither her love for me… It seemed as if the world was breathing from our love…
But happiness doesn’t last forever, as being a matter of another world…
Then I figured out that my friends began to trick on me… Maybe jealous of that rare creature that God had brought near me, surprisingly, in stead of congratulating me, they tried to diminish its values, exalting their inventions, some lionesses, tigresses, puppies, cats, mouses, foxes, chickens and every kind of ostentatious creature, which were worse than lyrebirds, more talkative than parrots… Eh, the friendship…! It’s necessary to beware by it?!
– The Doe…! A small and capricious thing… Wild, wild and mysterious, maybe it will never be civilized…! You would better choose a lioness… A lady in the jungle and in the zoo… Look how happy we feel with their grandiosity! –the masters of the jungle’s queens didn’t leave me alone…
– My happiness is enough! – I responded to the envies.
– As you want, but the lionesses are the delicacy of this life! – They insisted.
– The Does too… Everybody has his own likings… Then the forest can’t be enjoyed only with the lionesses… The roes are necessary too, even the… each creature has its own beauty and this makes more varied the forest’s life, with its presence… Even the Does…! Even the Does…! Even the Does…! They are the rarest thing of the wildlife! – I teased the evil friends, as far as to make them turn their back and disappear immediately, appearing next day even more annoying…
What have they got with me?!… As if my happiness was troubling them?!… Did the Doe’s particularity make them furious?!… Did they want to see me like themselves, near ordinary creatures or lonely?!… I had different likings…The Doe made me happy…!
Eh, this life! Overstrained… Cruel life! The man gets tired of its vicissitudes one day… Even the superman gets tired of intrigues… Once I got tired too… I was tired of intriguers… Those whom I called friends and mates… All my companions … All my envious acquaintances… I was so tired of them…
With or without my desire, I decided to change, to deny myself again… Far away from intriguers and intrigues… I let the Doe go in the forest… I left it dolorously… I brought it back in the forest…. There, among the trees, among its species, the squirrels… And I turned the back to it, thinking to get separated from it forever, but I don’t know what used to keep me attached with the common past… A kind of unconfessed sorrow…
I used to get out sometimes close to the forest and hiss, keeping my ear to the ground and spying… I could feel how the forest gave the hissing back… The woods’ leaves would swish and the Doe, like a wind plume, trunk to trunk, appeared amidst the nearest wood’s branches…
– Prrr, prrr, prrr, prrr! – It used to greet me with its immemorial tongue.
Its eyes used to shine from the tears… It used to spring around and wander as if liking to remind me the past times and, while being faced with the glacier of my soul, slowly, so unhappy, it would turn back crestfallen in the squirrels’ kingdom…
Finally I felt that this adventure was torturing me… And I decided to follow the way of solitude, with an old longing in my soul, in the endless public road of desperation, among the forest, at the same time near and far away the Doe…
I was lonely… Who knows…?

Shefki Hysa

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Aqif Hysa – Albanian Poet

A short biography of the poet Aqif Hysa
Aqif Hysa was born on 9 May 1960 in Shetel of Shijak from where he received the first raw material for the poetic citizenship.
Since earlier he has studied the poetry, the truth and itself.
The first volume of poetry “See you somewhere” (Shihemi diku) was published by the publishing house “Naim Frasheri”, Tirana 1999.
In 1996 he decided to overcome the sea, in search of the space, holding as a compass the horizon’s line. In 1996 he published in italian language the poetic volume “Erranti come gli dei” (Wanderer as Gods) (Endacak si zotat).
He continues to write poetry and his fate in the southern landscapes of the coast beyond, the italian one. The book “The escape poem” (Poema e ikjes) is his last publication.

Notes about the poetries of the poet Aqif Hysa

Professor Alberto Altmura writes about the poetries of the poet Aqif Hysa:
Aqif Hysa, if at one side complies with Europian literary tradition, on the other hand shows to have acquired the “citizenship” values expressed by his poetry: the authentic love for the peace and punishment for any kind of war, the aspiration for human brotherhood and the erection of barriers, not only physical, but economic and political, the rejection of hypocrisy and the empty formalisms.
In this framework extends his lyrical song, characterized by a kind of naive astonishment (and at the same time insidious) in front of the spectacle of life, nature and love. It is immediately felt that Aqif Hysa has the poetry in his blood, by the way he “cooks” his verses and spread in the ingredients of poetry a very special music and a powerful rhythm.

My eye draws a leaf

My eye
Draws a leaf
It shakes
It avoids stealthily
Shortly before it gets dark
in wind
an eyelash-leaf
shudders the space

Aqif Hysa
Albanian Poet

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The literature – Artistic history of humanity

God, Adam and Eve were the first literary characters
In the beginning was God.
He created the Universe, the Land, he also created the Man, Adam.
And God told the angels:
– Man is my most perfect and wise creature. I gave him mind from my mind, I gave him light from my light.
And the angels humbled the greatness of God.
And God continued:
– I decided to appoint the man, as the wisest even from you angels, my vicegerent on Earth.
And the angels humbled the vision of God.
And God said:
– Humble even to him, the man, my vicegerent on Earth!
And angels bowed to human respectfully. Only the Satan didn’t accept and addressed to God:
– I am a creature of fire, of grace, I don’t humble to a creature of lay! –he blew up.
And God ordered him:
– Humble to man, because is a wiser creature than you!
– I don’t want to humble! –the Satan rejected.
– Obey my authority! Humble to man, otherwise you will be punished! –God said.
– I don’t humble even your authority! Let me be punished! –the Satan rebelled.
And God cried:
– Despised be thou forever, Satan! Even in Hell my punishment will follow you!
And the Lord threw over lightning (whereas designed and decided to create the Hell as punishment for the whole disobedient, as Satan).
And the Satan, the first rebel of the Universe, ran very fast to hide in Hell scalded and persecuted from the lightening of God’s wrath. Whereas, man, Adam, this privileged creature of God, felt as a gentleman in the Heaven that the Creator gave him. Adam enjoyed all the benefits of Heaven. It is said that he had also milk of swallow, but was soon jade from that prosperity.
He felt a kind of emptiness in the soul. The loneliness excessively bothered him.
He addressed to God:
– Be praised, Lord, for the blessings bestowed upon me! I am among the infinite gift, but even I don’t know why I feel so lonely. I don’t know what is missing here inside my soul.
And God laughed heartily by Adam’s naiveté.
And he put the man asleep, removed one of his ribs and created a human copy more or less the same with Adam. Then, he slightly waved and woke him up, sure that he would like the new gift.
As Adam woke up, he saw a creature that looked like him as two drops of water.
He could not believe his eyes as he watched amazingly his human copy that comfortably slept next to him.
– Adam, it’s Eve, your female parable, your wife, the mother of your future children, -God said.
– My Eve?! – Adam left a shout of joy and felt he was entirely amazed from that creature as similar and magical.
And the emptiness of his soul was immediately filled with a sweet sense as the whole Paradise. Adam humbled the power of God with thousand of praise for that miracle he had donated.

Adam and Eve, the first human love

God advised him:
– Adam, you have to love Eve! And you Eve have to love Adam! I created you for each-other, to be loved as you love the Paradise. The entire Paradise is yours. Now, you have the Paradise also in your souls. I have created it just for your love. Try every fruit of its. I prohibit you just one fruit of its: The Apple of Knowledge! Do not dare to harass the fruit of Apple of Knowledge! Promise me for this and you will live, will be loved and will be inherited indefinitely in the Peace of Paradise!
– As you order, God! Your word is never both! – Adam bowed and promised.
– I promise you with my whole soul, our God! –bowed the flattering Eve.
And God wished all love again and closed at its eternal beyond the bars of blue heaven.
Adam and Eve, madly in love, were grasped and went rolling over naked as a single body on the green grass of the meadows of Paradise, that harassed them even more the desire for each-other with all those fragrances of pleasant smell of roses, cloves, cinnamon and a variety of the most rare flower that has created the all mighty mind of God. They were loved, were wanted and were loved without measure, as it is never remembered, or as it is said for the characters of the tales, so that they had tired those tools. Only after they broke and were packed to love, though took a little shame by nakedness and ran and covered with a fig leaf each of them their bird…

The first victims of the first intrigue

Whereas Satan, the rebel, rebellious and the first revolutionary in the Universe, as will be expressed later apologists of the doctrine of the Communist Revolution, vowed to take revenge against Man, Adam, who threw over him the disaster of God, left the Hell and secretly flew toward Paradise. It immediately turned into a dotted and beautiful serpent and with its whistle tongue, as a seductive lullaby sleeping pill, urged Eve to bite the Forbidden Apple.
And the flattered Eve, like all its successors, naive female characters in the literary works of later centuries, wanted or not, bite the Apple of Knowledge. And she sinned. She became the first sinner in the Universe. And God that immediately felt the sin, thundered and flashed angry:
– You, sinful people, you broke the promise! You made a sin and can be punished for this!
And God took away the Heaven and Immortality of Adam and Eve, dumping in the overcharged hardships of the Arabic desert.
Adam and Eve, now mortal, with a shield of dried fig leaf, began to roam with terror after the images of the mirages of endless deserts, persecuted by the shocking screams of all sorts of wild beasts and frightening mockery and mock of Satan, that were after them by putting into play their human weaknesses, versus the treacherous world, which resembled more or less the Hell that expected them after death.

The good and evil eternally at war

Thus, besides Paradise, the Good, Virtue, so Human Values embodied in the Divine in the human spirit, in the Universe was born also the Evil, Rebellion, Sin, Habit, in a word, Human anti-values embodied in the Satanism of Satan and the souls enslaved by him, that God decided to punish harshly and without mercy as a component of Hell. So Adam and Eve, all their descendants, all humanity, human life itself, essentially would be characterized by the struggle between good and evil. Exactly, this bloody struggle with its infinite battles within the human race constitutes the human history. And it is known that this history was first reflected in an artistic way by art and literature.
Adam and Eve, all their descendants with their deeds and sufferings of their life are reflected step by step through naive creations of primitive periods as the Epic of Gilgamesh and the songs of Nibelungeve till in the modern literature of our time as the novel “The Da Vinci code”. Thus, these artistic evidences of human progress have become the raw material for Aed, the first troubadour of humanity and for all popular troubadours and the later creators like Homer and Shakespeare or for the modern creators, writers of our time. In a word, the entirety of the works of the literary creators, that creativity that took the name literature, that in its beginnings, using elements of the magical and the miraculous that set in motion the human imagination and fantasy, took over the mission to be an artistic chronicle of human development, so an artistic history of mankind. Human deeds are also reflected by the documentary history that would be created as a separate science long after and would be developed besides literature, a parallel type, as different and independent, although they are subject of the same object.

Literature and History two parallel subjects of the same object

Adam and Eve, so, Man as the reasonable being of the Universe, facing the difficult reality of Earth, where he suddenly found himself, through his spiritual world has developed the ability to dream and want that Paradise that God gave and took away in the early childhood, when it transformed in a sinful being. Dreams, imagination, fantasy encourage Man to not subject the sufferings and hardships of life but to try to change the territory where he lives. So, he tries very hard to protect himself and the values that creates by the evil and the anti-values that the Satan offers.
Adam and Eve were initially shocked by the challenges that the desert made to them, but the Lord had given wisdom to avoid the unexpected, and they began to set in motion not only biological instincts, but also the mind. So, they started to react in many ways to survive. And they survived by developing their biological and spiritual skills. They developed the thought and feelings, mental world, brain, and the sensory one, soul, conscious. God created firstly Adam, so he created the person, who having in itself talent of God’s wisdom asked not to live alone, so as to say, he sought the company of another individual. God accompanied with Eve and this association with an individual genetically similar, with the only difference that it was a copy of Adam-female, brought the creation of the family as the first cells of the future of human society.
Adam and Eve fell in love at first sight and later, in good and in bad, realized how necessary and indispensable they were for each other and wanted or not, became the first family in the world. She born many children and the family enlarged and enlarged and by its descendants were created other families, which were added in other household which were grouped in tribes. So, by some consanguineous families, that descended from Adam and Eve, were created the first tribes. They were placed in small pastoral and agricultural centers, in the first villages of whom were born later craft centers and the first city-states, who were led by leaders of the most powerful tribes. Kinship relations and kinship created families and new tribes. If blood ties were strong within the family and tribe, over time they began to decline among the tribes, that carried away from each other in the manner of living and by the new territories that conquer around the Earth. Relations and mutual connections of many tribes brought the creation of the provinces. Populations of several provinces, with the same blood and language features, brought nations, of whom were also born modern states that we inherit today. It is known that nations distinguished from each other by blood and language, but also of culture, traditions and customs that were created differently, through the centuries and centuries. And it is these individual and social characteristics that differed from one nation to another, that made someone inferior and someone superior in front of the environment and each other, even more exacerbated the struggle between good and evil. So the nations will be attacked one another for life or death as a barbarian horde to devour and assimilate any civilization worth. And this eternal struggle, which determined the birth and the ups and downs of class orders and social systems, became reflection subject by literature and by history, which are two subjects that often go and develop hand in hand, despite a meeting place and the mission more or less the same they have.

The literature-tool to regain Paradise

It is this constant clash of interpersonal that has served as raw material for the written texts of documentary history, and for the fables of artistic literature.
Literary works unlike historical documentary texts, have reflected emotionally the history of human survival, therefore are an artistic chronicle of human development, impregnated chronicle with spiritual and feeling elements, fed by the imagination and fantasy, are not just recap of facts, reasoning and deduction of the chronicler’s opinion. So the historian chronicler deals simply with the description of the human deeds and sufferings, lists, counts and documents chronologically facts, data and arguments, while the artist chronicler refines the raw material, passing through the filters of feelings and through mirrors, prisms, telescopes and binoculars of imagination and fantasy, reflects it by enriching, creates and re-creates everything he sees and hears. In this way the artistic chronicle differ from the documentary chronicle of human life, although they are referred to and reflect the same object. History is an archive, warehouse, inventory documentary, which has only one mission: to inform and recognize us with our past. In contrast to the history, literature is multifaceted missionary, not only recognizes us how the events are developing from one time to another, from antiquity to modernity, but it also affects, gives us aesthetic pleasure and makes us wiser, seduces and calls us, encourages and inspires, sees and pushes forward to change the world around us. And man has aimed this at the moment that lost paradise, to change the status quo, to improve the world where they live under the parable of the lost paradise, to improve themselves to regain the right to be the pet of God, the Creator, and to merit his gift, Paradise.
In this viewpoint, I would say: literature has even another role, it serves as a tool, as a kind of weapon in the arduous path to regain the lost Paradise.

Shefki Hysa
Albanian Writer

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Fragmet of story

The car was slipping without being felt among the blocks of olives, oranges, mandarins and lemons that were lying like a green sea across the wide field around the main city, Gumenica, of the new Chameria or Thesprotia (this was the name held by this land in antiquity), as the Greeks of today intentionally called it to cancel the name “Chameria”. The pent-up blue sea lay farther on the right, in the Corfu Channel. There was a mountain range standing on the left, which used to divide Gumenica from Janina of Ali Pasha and to protect it by the cold North winds, converting it into a very likeable climate for olives and citruses. In some parts of it, the eyes caught even blocks with vineyards and with characteristic trees of the Mediterranean coastal areas lovingly well-maintained… A scholar’s sharp eye, like Fatos Mero Rrapaj’s, who carefully observes everything, could immediately understand that the area was fed due to agriculture, more exactly arboriculture, maybe tourism too, but industry not at all… Thus, environments were virgin and submerged in that lustrous sun, and despite the end of autumn, you couldn’t think to find any piece of polluted nature. And this was a privilege for the habitants…
Fatos was not satiated by enjoying the rare beauties of that nature where the mountain, the hill, the field and the sea were prodigiously harmonized… What more could a man want to live the earthy “paradise”?!… You might be crazy to launch wars in that region…
Eh… The Greeks!… If you dug the ground where the roots of that greenness lay, you would come across bones and skeletons of grave less murdered people… The Cham grave less people… And this was Greeks’ work, those who used to get out of the graves at night, like elves and bogey-men because neither soil could accept them…. Yes!… These were the Greeks… And their descendants pretended to bring peace and justice in the United Europe… No, God shouldn’t hush anymore!…
Kostandin at the wheel was talking and talking about the elims, about their castles in Kuç, Mazrek, Paramythia, about the wells in Mount Kladhi, about the cave in Arpica, about the three stones in Paramythia, about the stone in Luarat, which the elim women utilized as troughs to wash their clothes… But Fatos was more quarreling with his thoughts than listening to him… Do you know Fatos, Kostandin said, that the elims have worked at the Saddle of the Wall, near Margelleç, to build up a high-high wall which would link Mount Krane with the Peak of the Priest and they hoped they could reach the sky and see the whole world when they climb in there… But the wall they built up during the day would fall to pieces at night and they never could stop working… Wasn’t their willpower to be envied?… If people nowadays had that power, that willpower…, – whispered Kostandin, who seemed to madly admire and be almost blinded by the elim world’s grandiosity and his desire to talk to the others about the elims was already converted into a mania… At the end of every story he wouldn’t forget to work out the conclusion that not only Chams but whole Albanians are elims’ successors, that’s why they are able to survive in the most unusual circumstances.

Extracted by the story “Elims”, summarized in the volume with stories “Chameria Flavor”

Shefki Hysa

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The Chams

Don’t hurt me!…
At least you, friends and acquaintances of mine, do not hurt me!…
Others, those who don’t love me and the enemies, let them do as they want…
Their behavior doesn’t bother me…
What hurts me more are your prejudice and judgments for Chams and Chameria…
Don’t hurt me!…
Don’t force me to talk about Chams, because I am a Cham myself, I am from Chameria.
I am not used to praise myself, but your suspicions pushes me to become an apologist of myself and advocate of my Cham’s brothers, although I find it difficult to say words when deeds, works and values of Cham’s boys light as gold in front of the inventions of the enemies and those who don’t want their good…
Look them better!…
Whole mountains with gold treasures blossom in front of you and I am surprised how you don’t want to see them!
Couldn’t you see the glow of Cham’s values or perhaps you are blinded by their lightning that you don’t want to accept the Cham’s existence as a tangible reality that has occupied your path?!
Don’t hurt me!…
You can’t overcome such ranges and not feel tired… Fatigue shines in your faces… Even your fatigue shines in our path towards Chameria…
Please, don’t hurt me!…
Enough have hurt me those who have gone back on us…
Enough have denied our spiritual treasures the treacherous and the ingrate…
Chams, were firstly betrayed trust by Albanian state and some so-called politicians, like their patrons shovene-hellenic (I respectfully salute the Greek civilization), labeled and sold them as treacherous…
You, friends, don’t hurt me!…
Let me at least comfortably in my field battles with our enemies!…
Chams are like bees that tirelessly collect nectar flower to flower and produce honey for themselves and for others… Can bees be treacherous?!… Those that just work, build and produce with the rare art the most wonderful food, the honey!…
Don’t hurt me!…
Cham’s boys are like pigeons that go around and sing their own doves (not the crows of the world; they fear the sufferings of the fables of magpie with dove leather). Can the pigeons of peace be treacherous?!… Those who do, want and convey to the others with love the message of peace?!…
Don’t hurt me!…
Chams are like lions that avoid the donkeys with lion’s skin… And it is known that lions are lions, brave and battle warriors and not treacherous or actors in wickedly role…
Don’t hurt me!…
Cham’s boys are Osman Taka and Albanian whistles that dance even before death…
Don’t hurt me!…
Chameria’s boys are like Bilal Xhaferri who melted like the candle of Naim for Albania…
Don’t hurt me!…
Don’t misinterpret me, I don’t want to be like Beluli, this modern buffo that praise himself in the style of Mark Anthony, who immediately bankrupted the greatness of Bruti, the murderer of the Tiran Caesar…
Don’t hurt me!…
Cham girls are like Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, that forced the Caesars to put their head in her lap and to worship her graces as she was goddess…
Don’t hurt me!…
Cham’s girls are like the bride that accepted to sacrifice on the foundation of the bridge of Arta, that it would be built to bring the unity and the civilization of human coastlines…
Cham’s girls are like suliots that disposed of in the abyss from the rocks of the mountains of Suli to not remain slaves of the invaders cruelty…
Cham’s girls are like Vasiliqia that with a look descended from the horse the cruel Pasha, Ali Tepelena, threw away his sword and taught him the civilization…
Don’t hurt me!…
Chams are like Enkeleda Alushi singer, bride in Kosovo that sings to Chameria with longing…
Don’t hurt me!…
Chams are like me that bow my head only in the lap of Chameria!…
Don’t hurt me!…

Shefki Hysa

Cham warriors’ portrait

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