Irsa Ruçi is an Albanian Writer, Speechwriter and Lecturer. She was born in Tirana (Albania), in 1990. Her books of poetry include Trokas mbi ajër (poems and essays), 2008 and Pështjellim (poetry), 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; The Commonline Journal, Issue 4/22; A New Ulster poetry Anthology, april 2016; Best Poems Encyclopedia; Issuu April 2016; In Between Hangovers, May 2016; BLUEPEPPER, May 2016; Duane’s PoeTree, May 2016; CREATIVE TALENTS UNLEASHED, 8 May 2016 etc. And Among many awards, she has received the first prize in poetry, in competition “Anthology 2007”, as the best poet in Albania.
FORGIVENESS
One day I’ll forgive anyone who wanted to give me sadness
Simply…
Wordless,
Only with laughter
And the misery force while feeling
Alive;
While people find at me
The self they never found.
Only the aging beings from their own consciousness
While they vomit the hatred at other
Given that their selfishness suffocates them in rancour:
The evil has the form the spirit that comes!
One day I’ll turn words in prayers
That hearts full of envy,
To cultivate them with love.
IRSA IN WONDERLAND
I free myself like the air when grabs the waves
I breathe beyond my peace, in the secret solitude of spirit
Look to not be lost in the street of the heart.
I always seek the light’s fountain
In the magic of a smile
Or in the brilliance of the tears in the eyes
In the wave, through the whisper of the leafs
Beyond the music of the nightingales…
I always found the fountain of life
In the kindness of words, in the love’s stone road
Because I am not afraid from the divine feelings
I am a book that you need the capability to understand
To read quietly,
And there’s no more magical moment
While eyes are suffocated in the soul…
I live,
I love,
I dream,
Beyond every time
I create poetically in the threshold of wishes
When I close my eyes I nap sheltered in my universe
Because I am “Irsa in the wonderland”.
GRAVITY
Names written like absence, time is left with no remembrance
The future is like an infant, dandled in dreams
With the taste of the past
That often frightens after cries in the sleep.
No more rain from the skies, pains are raining
The rain falls from the eyes
Suffocated in loneliness, in the denial form
Rebelled for the light that for so long
We see it
Westley.
Streets are empty path of events
The aging steps weigh more,
Than nothingness, in bare footedness
Prophecies read in the palm of the hand
Like suffering is read in wrinkles…
Epochs who give birth to dessert, nothing to remember
Despite the formless noise
Like the scream within a room
No objects
That echoes
Echoes
Till the repetition of itself…
Then there is silence;
Silence that weighs more than any word.
SILENCE
I.
Shshshttt... Listen to the sparrows
Knitting plans behind the wings
And ask yourself
If the words are enough
To build a city of gossips
Under the sparrow's songs...
II.
Come now, return from pain
That with courage you build it in days, and every day
While it tears down like sandy castles
In the nights
When you shed in tears
Freezes the hurricanes;
But enough already:
Even slavery is drunkenness!
III.
Spy a little on the silence
While is speaking
And tell me:
How many were killed by the despicable silence of hers
Defeating
When none of us bothered
To look for answers?
Meaning takes form only in subconscious.
IV.
A drop of liquor let's have today
Till the end
For the end of the two-facets
That don't know end
And let's sing together,
Sing with us
The sparrow's song...!
HE RISES THE TIME
In the field where his mother laboured
He paced each day
Every time he faced the sun, said his prayers
Looking into her eyes;
His sister came after, playing
With her brother’s longing
Reciting with infant words
And the three of them smiled; …smiled
With the voice of time echoing
Their path
… A path filled with light!
He bowed to receive his mother’s blessing
Feeling the wrinkles in his mother’s hands
On his soft hair
And on his manly forehead raised by her kisses…
He sensed the scent of the earth just like his mother’s
That’s why he laid every evening under a tree
With the sun in his soul, singing to life…
Peregrination
I started wandering in streets I don’t know,
They don’t even know me
The strange streets around myself travel,
It will be easier a long uninterrupted way
Than the short ways that faster are forgotten.
In the world’s shell will be hided
Drunk by the poetic rhymes something to write and leave
And I want that everyone who visits my orphan shelter
To leave there a note.
In a new continent I want to be thrown by the wave of life
In an unhabituated continent
There I want to be build my poetic home,
Like Robinson Crusoh, alone to project:
From the slavers’ shackles, with foundations to build freedom.
The hours of waiting were delayed by expectance
Invisibly the divine creature came by himself
With the lines in my back, like a turtle, I got
Because art won’t forgive, as forgiveness won’t wait.
There’s no time for repentance in our path toward loneliness.
I discovered that after was only my shadow
When I wanted to grab like a unique body
Suddenly broke, crumbled in thousands of times.
I prayed for mercy even though my consciousness wouldn’t listen
I admit that poets only by devils could create
But from uncarefulness he couldn’t act
To poets were given soul to feel
What others had but gripped them.
Every human in the night shelter
In his own warm home,
While every poet is an unstoppable traveler
That carries all world in his chest…
Illusion
From the hole of the wall that rats had hollowed out
Spying the lamentation ritual
Of the partridge
When the wind carries away their melody
And the cold crushed in my face.
I saw the partridge
While leaving
It cut a branch from the cherry
Petals fall on the land
Which was left drained
From the absence;
Friends put on their dowry their tears
To collect like the beads toward the neck.
Left without turning the head back
Without peering the foxy sight
Left in longing;
Only the time weighs the hearts
Hanging the wires
Like clothes,
Patching the hold-back
In that ritual of forgiveness
That reminds the getaway of partridges
In lamentation…
The hole of the wall hollowed out by rats
Was filled with birds pup!
