Author: Hana Tiro
Juljana Mehmeti was born in the city of Durres, in Albania.
Since she was a child she became fond about literature and writing, especially poetry, a genre
that in the following years will turn into a real life motive, a way to better express her ideas,
her thoughts, her visions and metaphysics , her point of view according to her consciousness
but also improving the awareness of the same suggestion that surrounds the human world.
"The most difficult part of writing is those moments that after the
discharge of adrenaline must take the right shape, but also conclude the meaning of
everything that is written in the highest aesthetic form. The final emotional but also exciting
conclusion with the word in this case, which first faces itself, after reaching the creative
awareness, that this poem can already be presented to the wider circle and the reader, is the
anxiety of how it will be expected, but also the spirit. how critics will judge it afterwards.", Mehmeti says.
The first book “Soft – Poems” published in Italian language attracted the attention of publishers
and Italian literary criticism, not only for its particular style, but also for new words, the
language used, the philosophical message and the currents present in her poems that go from
Hermetism to Surrealism. The second book comes from the field of translation entitled
“Vramendje” – (Rimugino “) of the Italian author Alessandro Ferrucci Marcucci Pinoli, which
will constitute the first experience in this field, but will also strengthen his long-standing
conviction, to know and translate in his language, many popular Italian authors.. The
collection of poems “Oltrepassare” is her new book, which presents itself with the new
tendencies of Albanian literature, postmodernism and universal consciousness, from
experimental currents to absurdity.
In an interview with Anca Mihaela Bruma, Mehmeti states
"In my opinion a writing would be called good if the basic structure of
the construction, the conveyed message and the metaphorical construction would create that
harmony, which would immerse the reader to understand the idea and under the idea of all the
conveyed art. If we would talk about a normal prose whose fable must have been intriguing,
full of mysticism and one-soul pursuit of each chapter, to understand or enter into discussion
with the conclusion or solution the author gives to the written work. In poetry it is something
else, as poetry is elitist and the selection of words, the figuration, but also the construction of
the whole poetry should be not only an emotional thrill but also a long taste of the words that
remain in the mind and sounds to the eloquence of a music, that whispers continously and fills
you with intoxicating breath."
She published in English language “In his light” (Demer Press, 2019) and in Italian language "Namasté” (Libri di – Versi in Diversi Libri- 2020).
She currently lives and works in Ancona, Italy.
a part of the endless universe
a particle thrown to refracted parallels ,
of that world dressed with the color of light
and drowned back again to the dark memory,
with the meaning of the existence in the margins of life
the consciences coming from the unexpressed words,
from the inner part
of that vision which dresses me in blue,
of the creator who merged body and soul
with blessings from angels
towards the tracks of blood and the cross pain.
The flight ascending to its own ashes
in the forgotten bodies of gone legends
consecrated during the time of enormous agitation,
of the north sea
searching for eyes which dress the verdure
of the end boundaries
wandering beyond the world
collapsing and uprising
with different steps
to the revived eternity.
New tops touch the heights
heart and mind
bended to the temple,
which constructs invisible bridges
the view towards the Almighty
and hands folded in praying
words which goes with the wind
and return back with seasons,
a fragment of continuity
born from the spirit of the sky;
The reddish skies of the troubled soul are burning without any borderline,
same like the sun gone to the west
beyond the horizons swaying along with sunsets
of the grey mist
descending deep into the eye of the sea
through bands collecting the last gleam
of the sound of the wave
extended thirstily to the white bank
of the flickering of seagulls
the sonnet of an evening
arched to the refracted strings of the Moon.
Desires are murmuring under the tree leaves
the smooth breeze
beyond the imagination of the sight
gathered to the lands where dreams fly with sensation
and regenerated births commence again the migration
towards the past homes
with the new love
with the intention to touch the same sky
and gathering shoulders to the cloudless stars.
A moment of loosing awareness
this mixture of the earth and the sky
body and the spirit
a cigarette smoke which is altered with the breath
fondled under the bundles of hair touching the face
caressed from the dusk murmur.
Fallen chasms to the ravines of soul
scary up to the darkness,
Swirl dimming the past nightmare
strangled furiously, like in wasteland.
Cold Ices surround the ocean
and poles freezing in coldness
reflection of the image of mute shadows
of the long-ago ego
shivering to the being of infancy.
Invisible hands are extended in the fog
equilibriums of universe superpose
refracted reflexes of a light which is invisible
to the darkened eclipses of the sun.
The drowsy retina of life
awakened from slamming of dusty wings
of the lone triumph phoenix
reborn in new ribbons of life
in the unexplored areas of the sky.
Translated by Arben Hoti