In Mire Of Existence, The Stars Poem by Mimoza Ahmeti

Are the names of kings, merchants and diplomats
Once again to be imposed on memory?
Oh, this mad history will not succeed in arousing
The slightest feelings among the generations.
I know: love of the past, of ancestors,
Will ever end in arrogance,
As long as regents strive to mark our memories.

Look, here in the mire
An extemporaneous being has been born,
After it, another and then another,
New stars in the desolate human sky,
Perfect like miracles,
Rare, like them,
Young, so terribly young
Have they emerged from ancient plasma.

On the road, in the murk of existence, the stars go their way,
Even Jesus Christ shrinks
At their terrestrial splendour.
'Oh, and the last one of them
Shall surely be the first!'
Those eyes, lips, metallic arms,
Those muscles radiating force and heat,
Those legs wading and advancing through the muck,
Shoulders spiralling bronze-like in the face of death,
In an upsurge of energy, passion and sex,
When, from the act, the exhausted soul is revived...
Oh, those hands,
The wisdom of the brain and the heart is written
In those hands.
Rain, the incessant deluge of exhaustion
and storm,
Skulls which protrude from the skin,
Zygomatic pates of new-born stars,
Music of eyes, astonishment..
The collapse into bed, delirious sleep, lashed
By disturbing dreams, unreal, glaring,
A thousand times truer and more real
than daylight.

The first glow of the sun, freedom, nudity,
Then sorrow, like the return of an overcast sky
Bringing nighttime ever so swiftly to our eyes.
The desire to vanish, depart, commit suicide,
That venom nourishing the senses: solitude,
Inadaptability, illness, alienation's vomit,
Scandal, divorce, the flagrancy of these stars,
Oh, will they be remembered, forgotten, despised, or praised?
Their pride, their scorn, the exhibitionist cult
Of a nature which ideally decomposes within them.
The human offence which they master:
Injured mouth, cracked lips, re-acquaintance, reseparation ,
'FAREWELL', like a battered bird
Which seeks out the cliffs to perish.

Another day
Is reborn in the blind conviction that life is nigh,
Another day, you love her terribly and terribly
she loves you.

All of this is History,
All of this, the phenomena of Life.