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"Soy un bicho de la tierra como cualquier ser humano, con cualidades y defectos, con errores y aciertos, -déjenme quedarme así- con mi memoria, ahora que yo soy. No quiero olvidar nada."

José Saramago

domingo, 26 de junio de 2011


The army of nobodies

They’ve encroach the grass of the neighbor’s territory
I was not the neighbor that sowed saplings of Sycamore tree
My pomegranate garden
Unfolded leafs and showed luxurious fertility
And brought the Balm of Gilead
Straight from Parsifal right in the center of the orchard
A huge shadow ficus religiosa
You may circle around
Exactly one thousand years in a row
But they will not allow you to enlighten
Amidst them I was crowded
Absorbing consciously
The odor of their emptiness
Yet I shall recite again the 99th Psalm of Celestial Intelligencer

Pity myself
Scars on my face
Each time I forgot to mention God’s name by every breathe taking
Conscious process
I may sing Joy
Oh pity nobodies yet you are unable to feel what you possessed in your veins
In vain I may call freedom
To establish its conquest but you are the pity ones that swallowed
All your dreams and hopes


There’s only a dew of elixir in the bottom of the empty cup sleeping as lamb
Now they call it heart, I call it polluted spirit, and you may call it ruby pomegranate granules
But we the simplest so called human entities jointly may only Love and this is sufficient
To suffer for the thousand years and a day more

The one who cares not is the luckiest mundane ignorant but I’m the one alike who outpours his quintessential not knowing for whom
Not knowing for what reason a purpose never show its glamour in advance
For warning, for love or even for sake of its purest manifestation

In times when words were queued in the thread abundantly curved in bobbin from the human scalp
The necklace of verse is fading its shine no sparkling truths gurgles from its spring to obey our thirsts
We the thirsty souls for divine morsel wandering in here as the spirits of suicide victims
Empty stomachs of enfant terrible only for the grasp of the truth they never hear even as the sound of insect
Never as the sound of falling frozen spirit in jade that you may later see as the Galatea of divine maternal essence
A cornucopia of latent blessings waits
A deficit of Love outbursts proudly displaying its genitalia without a drop of shame
I wander as a working bee searching for the nectar of wisdom to feed my Queen bee
And bestow her eternal life with the royal jelly leaking elegantly from the bottom to the navel

Charged circle


Empty cans
No liquid evaporated
In the air full of pride
Polluted grains of soul
Lost their consistency
Pure fluids of light
Erupts as marshmallow bombs
Death squad penetrates deeply
Aiming to meet Anubis
A Tsunami whirled its wish
Passion and glutton declared independence
The dream of becoming a parallel nation
To co-habit with leukemia of creativity
A sex drive 4x4 retired
A crippled veteran of passion
Bags for the mercy of soulless utilitarian army of human entity
Better said plankton a homo-plankton of miserable creatures
Even worms and larva are disgusted by our hatred
Fecal, a skunk of fear
An eclipse of love that spans for ages
From birth to death
A spectrum displays its ripeness 
Ejaculates liberty as blast
A dazzling dance of shaped and amoeboid forms of manifestation
Bitter the honey with suffer
Powder a chamomile with royal jelly and ginseng
All of sudden a wind blows
Spores of the old pines


The soul of parallel nation of Angeloid
Is striving pleasure of life?
Lives now
Perpetually woofs a rainbow muslin with the divine light
Inter-woofed dress
Newborn immaculate fellows
Oh those smell of paradise
Mint, Neroli, Oakmoss, Amber
A bouquet of divine pleasure
And Acacia kissed by a queen bee
Yes the queen of Enneagram
Of course
The work produces sweet essences
Oh Sarmouni of our Millennia
Melt the cataract-ic lance so they may see the beauty
Heal the flu so they may smell fresh ozone
A charged circle of light and love
Remove the pulp from the reed
So may divine tune perform light?
May be your torchbearer
In the dark valley and by then you may see a spectrum
That encircles an infant fear
For an eternal life
Yet I kiss that that time sequence
Where Jin and Jang harmoniously co-habit
I a Feng Shui of Love
Defragmenter of hate’s files
Zipper of dark matrixes
So you may know they do exists
So you try them in order to enjoy the sweetness of life’s honey
In this porcelain valley
Where goodness and mischief
Hand in hand are gliding furiously
Alas pure the morning with dew of love
Oxidize hate with apple vinegar
Sing to celebrate both solstices and have a cup of vine
That swoon you
That filters all starry
Cells of brain and ganglia
Perfume her navel with rosewater and kiss, kiss, kiss
Do a divine Tantra
With all visible and invisible and semi-visible spirits
Kiss topaz of her eyes
Kiss ruby of her heart
Kiss diamond of her nail
Kiss cooper of her feet ankle
Kiss jade of her bones
Kiss sapphire of her cells
And a flame-y waterfall of hair
And a silky pubic…
Oh…kiss and kiss and kiss whatever belongs to her
Make her a necklace
With your purest and noblest spermatozoids
Then call her as you wish
Wisdom, Hikkmah[1], Sophia[2]
Or simply Goddess that makes you Angeloid.


Sweet little Roma
I crossed the stone bridge and listened the gurgle of white river’s water beneath
And the Church staying proudly next to the Mosque as mirror to see her beauty
The fountain of drinking water from the top of the cold hills flowing benevolently
Surrounded by the buzzing manlike creatures unaware of the burden they carry
A approached a different mendicant than my eyes use to capture as camera obscura
The boy was drinking Coke and happily smiling to the crowd yet in his eyes
The azure blue formed a net for the lovers, human and celestial beings alike
As spider waiting for the victim that would proudly kiss the star in his forehead 
The day was happy to find me there slightly confused by the spring’s breeze
I was happy to be there and embrace the Coke drinking boy sweet as all boys in the world
The angels that warns us to Love unbiased

 Questions of Angeloid

Am I plain stone?
To be thrown far from the eyesight

Am I skin of the tiger
To be stepped by soulless merchant

Am I blood soaked by relative fellow?

Am I a lost tribe’s leader?
To be adored as saint

Am I lost prophet?
To be searched in caves where the Jinni settled his colony

Am I a Jurassic fossil?
To be displayed in a crystal cube

Am I a jasmine essence?
To be smelled after third millennium

Am I lost planet
The curse of mankind

Am I paradigm of goodness?
To be diminished by surrenderance

Am I perfect mischief?
To be hailed as a Gospel chant

Am I wing of purple angel
To bring you shade
While you search for knowledge

Am I supersensible tune?
To be played by enlightened heartstring

Am I aerial spirit?
To bring you storm
In a midday when the sun
Reads its quatrain

Am I a cosmic fluid?
To be dispersed as a star dust

Am I divine enough?
To rejoice for a cosmic harmony

Am I the bell from the angel’s wings?
To bell the beginning of a new prophecy

Am I a saint that shows hardly his miracle?
To be later adored as Godling

Am I pure water from the desert’s spring?
To be drunk on the moment of death

Am I death of Art?
To be reborn by Theurgy

Am I a drunken lover in Love?
To be perished in the quantum of photon

Am I stupid to reveal a new discovery?
So you may pity or
You may salute and laude
And so, and so, and so on.

[1] Arabic for wisdom, we disregard language we are concentrated on substance on quint essence
[2] Greek for wisdoms.

Fahredin Shehu born in Rahovec, South East of Kosova, in 1972. graduated at Prishtina University, Oriental Studies. M.A. in Literature. PhD in Sacral Estethics- ongoing. Actively works on Calligraphy discovering new mediums and techniques for this specific for of plastic art.

Published books:
  • NUN- collection of  mystical poems, 1996 author’s edition,
  • INVISIBLE PLURALITY- Poetical prose, 2000, author’s edition
  • NEKTARINA- Novel, Transcendental Epic, 2004, publishing House, Rozafa Prishtinë- project of Ministry of Culture Sport and Youth of Kosova
  • ELEMENTAL 99- Short poetical mystical stories, 2006, Center for positive thinking, Prishinë
  • KUN- collection of transcendental lyrics, 2007, Publishing House LOGOS-A, Skopje, Macedonia.

Issues on papers and magazines:
The Book of Poetry E-Book in Ronin press, London, UK
The book of Poetry in Nadwah Press, Hong Kong
Poetry on Magazine of Center for Humanistic studies GANI BOBI, Prishtinë
Essays on Journal “Oriental Studies”, Kosova Orientalist’s Association.
Poetry in Magazine STAV- Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Poetry in Magazine ZIVOT- Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Poetry in Magazine ULAZNICA- Zrenjanin, Vojvodina
Poetry in Magazine URRA- Tirana, Albania
Poetry in Magazine POETA- Belgrade, Serbia
Poetry in Magazine, ISTANBUL LITERARY REVIEW, Istanbul, Turkey
Poetry in Magazine, MOBIUS MAGAZINE, New York, USA
Poetry in Magazine OBELISK, Tirana, Albania
THE WORLD POETS QUARTERLY (multilingual) VOLUME No. 58, Bei Jing, China
Poetry at Sarajevske Sveske 2010, Sarajevo, Bosnia
Poetry in Balkan writers, Belgrade, Serbia
Poetry at Poetas del Mundo, Santiaogo de Chile
Poetry at Mediterranean, Gotteborg, Sweden
Poetry at Aquillrelle, Brussels, Belgium
Poetry at Poem hunter, USA
Poetry at World Poets Society, Athens, Greece
Poetry at Albpoem, Albania
Poetry at Soylesi Poetry Magazine, Istanbul, Turkey
Poetry at revista ura, Tirana, Albania
Poetry at Uzina Marta, Brasil
Poetry Romanian version Orientul Meu, Bucharest, Romania
Poetry at Agonia , Bucharest, Romania
Poetry and profile at Carty’s Poetry Journal, Dublin, Ireland
Poetry at Middle East Online, London
Poetry in English on The Sound of Poetry Review, Argentina
Poetry at Le post, Paris, France
Poetry at Aube, Paris, France
Poetry at 24 heures, Geneve, Zwitzerland
Poetry at Tribune de Geneve, Geneve, Switzerland
Poetry and Calligraphy at World Art Friends, Portugal
Poetry at lechasseurabstrait. Publisher, Patric Cintas, RAL,M Revue d’Art, et litterature, Musique, Paris, France
Poetry at Arte Poetica, Salvador
Poetry at Carcinogenic Poetry, Brasil
Poetry at Album Nocturno, Salvador
Poetry at Fernando Sabido Sanchez, Madrid, Spain
Poetry at Anthology Poetas Siglo Veintiuno, Editor, Fernando Sabido Sanchez, Madrid, Spain
Poetry at Cinosargo, Arica, Chille
Articles in www.worldbulletin.com, Istanbul, Turkey
Articles in www.newropeansmagazine.com, Strasbourg, France

Exhibition of Calligraphies in Cairo, Egypt, 2004
Sarajevo 44th Poetry Meeting, Sarajevo 2005
Congress on 600th anniversary of the work of Abdurrahman Ibn Khaldun, Cairo, Egypt, 2006
Meeting for the ethnic minority rights, European Parliament, Bruxelles, 2006
Exhibition of paintings and calligraphies at the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, Cairo Egypt, 2007
Participation on the Congress on 800th anniversary of a Persian Poet RUMI, organized by
UNESCO/Albania and Saadi Shirazi Foundation, Tirana
Participation at the International conference on Islam and Balkan- Identity and building bridges, Canakkale, Turkey
Participation at 13th International Sheikh Tousi Conference, Qom, Teheran, Mashhad, Iran
Participation at Conference on Regional Cooperation, Kopaonik Serbia

Debates on national KTV, RTK, TV BESA, TV 21
Artists Profile “KULT”, “AVENY” on RTK Public Broadcaster
Interviews for all nation wide Electronic Media and Press

Translated in English, Italian, Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, Roma, Swedish, Turkish, Arabic, Romanian. Ambassador of Poets to Albania by Poetas del Mundo, Santiago de Chile. Member of World Poets Association. Member of the Publishing and Editing Committee, at the Kosovo Ministry for Culture, Youth and Sport. Member at the Kosovo PEN Center. Executive Director of The Center for promoting Intercultural Dialogue “OXOR”. Works in Administration of Radio Television of Kosova RTK.


Vinko Kalinić nació en 1974, en Split, Croacia. Es escritor, poeta, periodista y activista de derechos humanos. Descendiente de una familia de pescadores de Komiža, en la isla de Vis. Es autor de cinco libros de poesía. Sus poemas han sido traducidos a varios idiomas y publicados en todo el mundo. Además de la lengua croata oficial, escribe en un dialecto especial: “Komiža”.  Contínuamente actualiza su diario poético en Facebook, donde es seguidopor más de 2.100 personas. En octubre de este año, vendrá a Chile invitado al VI ENCUENTRO INTERNACIONAL DEL VALLE DE COLCHAGUA, organizado por la I. Municipalidad de Nancagua y la Universidad de Chile y con el patrocinio de diversas embajadas (España, Argentina, Uruguay) junto a la Embajada de la República de Croacia.

 Web: http://vinkokalinic.blogspot.com/

 Diario Poético: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Vinko-Kalini%C4%87/110184921886

(hrvatski – engleski)

Sanjao sam da Te sanjam

Sanjao sam da Te sanjam
i u dnu toga sna
stajao sam ja

ničeg nije bilo u tom snu

nebo bijaše prazno
i zvijezde sve
progutaše muk

samo usne Tvoje
titrahu u mraku
rahle ko zemlja
vrele ko kruh

ne znam, u tom snu
da li bijah čovjek
ili duh

pamtim samo
koliko duša
biti može

i uzdah onaj
- o, Bože!
od kojeg i sad, budan
u moždanima ćutim
miris Tvoje kože

I've dreamt of dreaming 'bout you

I've dreamt of dreaming 'bout you
And in the core of that dream
There I stood

The dream was blank

The sky was empty
and all the skies
were devoured by the dark

Your lips were the only thing
shivering in the dark
loose as the soil
fervid as bread

I don't know, that dream,
perhaps I was a human
or maybe just a ghost

I can only remember
just how much a soul
could be

and that sigh
- oh, God!
that keeps awake
the feeling in my brain
the scent of your skin

Eto, kako te volim

Eto, kako te volim: kao ptice
koje kreću na put preko oceana
ne računajući na vrijeme i daljinu
ni koliko im snage treba
za premostiti pučinu,
ne hajući za kiše, oluje i bijes vjetrova
ni gdje će spavati, ni što će jesti
niti hoće li žive dočekati zoru

eto, zašto te volim: u meni jer budiš
ono neizrecivo, i jače od života
što i njih goni da se k nebu vinu
više od svega žudeći tek toplinu

bez pameti, bez računa, bez pokrića
kao jedna, krene ih cijela četa -
samo rašire krila i polete u prazninu
zanosno, kao i ja u tvoje oči
tek gluhu plavet gledajući

i lete tako, vjerujući
da će stići
sve do na kraj

See, how I love you

See, how I love you: like birds
which get on the trip over the oceans
not counting the time and the distance
not even how much energy they would need
to cross the open sea
not worrying about the rains, storms and the winds anger
not even where would they sleep, or what would they eat
not even if they will survive the dawn alive

see, that’s why I love you: because you awake
that unspoken in me, and stronger than life
what also forces them to raise to the sky
more than anything, longing just the warmth
without mind, without score, without the security
like one, the whole troop goes-

they just spread their wings and fly into emptiness
passionately, just like me into your eyes
looking only at the mute blueness
and they fly, believing
that they will arrive
to the end of the

Bog mora i ruža vjetrova

Ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam

pamtim čak i trenutak
kad si prestala biti ženom
i postala mi sudbinom

nehajno, prošla si kroz moje jutro
lepršava, krhka, divlja i sretna,
s osmjehom zaraznim ko kuga

prošla si,
kao što vjetrovi dolaze
i prolaze,
pa opet se vraćaju
ni kako se zovu
ni zašto se viju
ni kamo idu

a ja sam stajao
kao što i sada stojim
i ukipljeno
gledajući te kako rasteš
i kako si sve veća:
veća od ulice kojom si hodala
veća od luke koja te zagrlila
veća od mora koje je šumom
vraćalo jeku tvoga božanstvenog glasa
veća od neba koje se čitavo klanjalo
i tebi
i tvojoj sjeni
- veća od svega
što je ikada bilo
i što će ikada biti

ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam

pojaviš se kao sjena
lepršava, krhka, divlja i sretna,
kao što nikada nije, niti će ikada biti
ijedna druga žena

i rasteš
sve dok ne narasteš veća od svega
što je živo u mojoj glavi

i kad si tiha poput ljetnog maestrala
i kad si divlja, i hladna kao bura
i kad si luda, i toplija od juga
- uvijek je to ista ruža

ona, što prolazi kroz neko moje
davno odlepršalo jutro
s osmjehom zaraznim ko kuga
divlja i sretna, što ruke pruža
od ničeg da stvori neki oblik
od besmisla da načini neki smisao

a ja stojim - stojim isto onako
kao što sam stajao ukipljeno
onog davnog odlepršalog jutra
- jutra svečanijeg od svakog jutra! -
stojim i danas, kao što ću stajati
i kad prođe trista milijuna godina

ti živiš u mojoj glavi
i ja to znam

kao što znam
- ako me ikada itko bude tražio? -
pronaći će me jednoga jutra
u tisuću zrnaca okamenjene svijetlosti
u sjeni tvoje sjene, u užarenom pepelu

poput kakvog razmrvljenog
drevnog morskog boga,
poput pijeska
bit će me posvuda,
gdje onog jutra
gazila je tvoja noga

Sea God and the wind rose

You live inside my head
and I know that
I even remember the moment
when you stopped to be a woman
and became my destiny

carelessly you passed through my morning
flirty, fragile, wild and happy,
with a smile, contagious like a plague

you have passed through,
like winds which come
and pass by,
and come again
nor what their names are
neither why they blow
nor where they go

and me, I was standing
as I am standing now
and still
watching you growing
and how you became much bigger:
bigger than the street you were walking down
bigger than the harbour that embraced you
bigger than the sea which was returning
the echo of your divine voice
bigger than the sky which was bowing
to you
and to your shadow
-bigger than everything
that has ever been
and that will ever be

you live in my head
and I know that

you just appear like a shadow
flirty, fragile, wild and happy,
like has never been nor will ever be
any other woman

and you grow
until you grow up bigger than everything
what is live in my head

when you are quiet like the summer mistral
and when you’re wild and cold like a storm
and when you’re crazy and warmer than a scirocco
-it’s always the same rose

the one that passes through some of mine
ancient flowed mornings
with a smile, contagious like a plague
wild and happy, the one that offers hands
so it could create some form from nothing
to create some meaning from total senselessness

and I’m standing – standing the same way
I was standing still like a statue
that ancient flowed morning
-morning that was more solemnly than any other! –
I’m standing still today as I will be standing
even after three million years

you live in my head
and I know that

the same way I know
-if anyone will be ever searching for me?-
they will find me one morning
in the thousand particles of the petrified brightness
in the shadow of your shadow, in the red hot ashes

like some crumbled
ancestral sea God,
like the sand
I will be everywhere,
where, on that morning
your foot was stamping

Ostat ćeš uvijek moja

I sunce ovo što se tebi klanja
utonut će u ocean svojih sanja,
u duboku plavet, u beskrajno more.

I vratit će se opet svečano i novo,
i nekom drugom darovano.

A kako ne bi oči moje, što gore
i razliveno plešu pred licem tvojim
kao sjene na zidu u agoniji svijeća?

Ima li nešto tužnije i ganutljivo do boli
od zabranjenih želja?

Ipak, jer si veća od neba
i od svega što mojoj duši treba,
reći ću ti samo: rasti! rasti!
- Budi sretna bez ostatka!

I neka je u meni sve pusto
i žalosnije od uvenulog cvijeća,
ako i nema glasa
još zvoni jeka
srca razbijena:
ostat ćeš uvijek moja
na dnu duše makar kao sjena.

Jednom ćeš se sjećat -
na nekom trošnom stolu
punom zaboravljenih stvari,
kao i uvijek, nježne i pune svjetla,
razigrano pružat će se tvoje ruke.

Nasuprot, i ja ću stajati,
u tvojoj sjeni.

Prepoznat ćeš me u nekoj davno,
ali nikad do kraja,
rastopljenoj mrlji od voska.

U  jednom trenu bit ćeš opet
najljepša koja zemljom hoda.
Neomeđiva. I sva
kao kiša kad se roska.

Iznenada, iz luke
ili tko zna otkud,
dolelujat će miris proljeća.

I tad, u uzdahu tvom bit će me više
nego što me ikad igdje bilo.

- Eh, da!

Gorila je jednom i ova svijeća...

You will stay forever mine

This sun that bows to you too
will sink into the ocean of it own dreams,
into the deep blue, into the endless sea.

It will return again solemnly and new,
given as a gift to someone else.

So, why wouldn’t my eyes, that burn
and dance spilled in front of your face
like the shadows on the wall in the candle’s agony?

Is there anything sadder and touchier to the pain
from forbidden wishes?

Although, as you are bigger than heaven
and from all that my soul would need
I will only say: grow! grow!
- Be happy without regret!

Inside of me is all deserted
and sadder than dried flowers
even if there’s no voice
my broken heart is still echoing:
you will stay forever mine
at the bottom of my heart even just like a shadow.

You will remember once -
on some old and run down table
full of forgotten things,
as always, tender and full of light
your hands will be stretching playfully.

Opposite, I will be standing,
in your shadow.

You will recognize me in some ancient,
but never to completely,
melted wax smudge.

And for the moment you will be again
most beautiful one that walks on this Earth.

Unbordered. And all like the rain
when it glitters.

Suddenly, from the harbour
or who knows where from,
fragrance of spring will come in waves.

And then, in your breath I will be even more
than i was ever anywhere else.

- Oh, yes!
This candle was already burning once before...

Govorila je meni mati moja

Govorila je meni mati moja:
sinko, na nebesima je sunce,
ne trči za njim, njega još nitko
dohvatio nije.
- A ja joj nisam vjerovao,
jer sunce ono što se svakog jutra
na ukrajku neba rađa, da osvijetli nam dan,
sija samo dok ne padne noć,
a moje sunce sja i kad sve je crno
kao ugar.

Govorila je meni mati moja:
ne zanosi se, sinko,
sunce je slijepo!
A ja je nisam poslušao.
- Kako živjeti bez sunca?
I što bi drugo sunce bilo
do li oči one što uznose
i svijet ovaj, i dušu moju
k nebesima.

Ne govori više mati moja:
ne trči, sinko,
niti da je sunce
slijepo i visoko.

Tek kadikad samilosno
majčinsko zablista joj oko:
kad zamjene se noć i dan,
znade mati, koje sunce
sin joj svojeglav
zakopa, u srcu

My mother was telling me

My mother was telling me:
my son, the Sun is up in heaven,
don’t run after it, as nobody’s ever
reached it so far.
- And me, I haven’t believed her,
because the Sun is something that every morning
emerges in the corner of the sky, to light up our day,
shines only till the night falls,
and my Sun shines even when everything else is
black like a coal.

My mother was telling me:
don’t get carried away, my son,
the Sun is blind!
And I didn’t listen to her.
- How is to live without the Sun?
And what else could the Sun be
but the eyes that lift up
this world, and my soul
right up to heaven.

My mother is not telling anymore:
don’t run, my son,
not even, that the Sun is
blind and high.

Only sometimes compassionately
her motherly eye sparkles:
when night replaces the day,
mother knows, which Sun
her stubborn son
has buried, deep
into his heart.