by Irsa Ruçi
People write poetry out of fear
That one day I’ll be only a memory in time
And in middle of oblivion
Only hatred will be remembered
Vomiting in selfishness.
While poets are rivers flow peacefully
Of the idealism which weight in their consciousness
Without being enough evil
To fit in the society.
But you can’t be a poet
If you aren’t enough foolishness
To believe that your own line
Will change the mood
Go on in believing in stubbornness
In naivety
That your name be one day
Something more than some letters on a page.
That’s why people write poetry,
To clean their soul…
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Irsa Ruçi was born in Tirana, Albania in 1990. Her books of poetry include Trokas mbi ajër (2008) Pështjellim (2010). She has been published in anthologies: Antologji, 2007; I kërkoj agimit vesën, 2008; Antologji poetike “Kushtuar dashurisë”, 2014; Antologji poetike “Udha”, 2014; Antologji poetike, 2014; “Malli dhe brenga nga distancat”, 2014; Antologji poetike “Qyteti”, 2014; Poeteca, 2015; and her works has appeared in a number of print and online national and international magazines, including Sling Magazine, Issue 5; Ann Arbor Review, Issue 15; Poeteca Magazine, Issue 35; Aquillrelle Anthology, 2015, Aquillrelle Anthology, 2016, Metaphor Magazine Issue 5, etc. And Among many awards, she has received The first prize in poetry, in competition "Anthology 2007", as the best poet in Albania.
Last updated April 19, 2016