...illusions from a far-fetched past!

I once loved messy curly hair,

it's true colour recognised,

only close to that stubborn head.

I once loved them teeth of hers,

properly arranged, yet never chained.

I once loved that beauty-spot,

that lay on the upper-lip.

I once loved that baby-like way,

of drinking from a bottle.

I once loved those small-fat Albanian fingers,

that held the keys to my focus.

I once loved those lost and vulnerable brown-eyes,

full of passion and life.

I once loved those eyebrows,

that could complete the ying-yang with mine.

I once loved the neck,

that put lambs to shame.

I once loved the nose,

that couldn’t smell it’s own bull-shit.

I once loved the smile,

that was virus to my knees.

I once loved the bossom,

that crowded my soul.

I once loved the nipples,

that spoiled my lips and tongue.

I once loved the “hithka”,

that graciously harboured my entire being.

I once loved the belly,

that was to give perfection to my legacy.

I once loved that Albanian-dance,

that made maturity vanish in my smile.

I once loved to say something like “I love you sweetheart”,

in our sacred language every morning.

I once loved to share myself, my passion, my Jazz…

But you see that is a “gone chapter”…

Now is all “once”…

Nothing matters, as its not there to share or love.

Gladly or not, now that was all “once”…

Dikur dashuronja floke kacurrele, te c’thurur;
ngjyra natyrale e te cileve dallohej,
vetem ngjitur me kokefortesine.

Dikur dashuronja dhembet e saj;
tamam te vendosur,
kurre te zinxhirosur.

Dikur dashuronja nishanin;
shtrire mbi buzen e siperme.

Dikur dashuronja te piren e saj;
si vogelushe,
nga shishe te rendomta.

Dikur dashuronja gishtat “alla-shqiptarce”,
te vegjel, te shendoshe;
qe mbanin celesat e fokusit tim.

Dikur dashuronja syte e humbur,
te zinj;
plot me jete e pasion.

Dikur dashuronja vetullat e saj;
qe mund te plotesonin “Ying-Yang” me mua.

Dikur dashuronja qafen;
qe turperonte qengjat.

Dikur dashuronja hunden;
shqisat e se ciles,
besonin auto-genjeshtrat.

Dikur dashuronja buzeqeshjen;
qe me dobesonte gjunjet.

Dikur dashuronja kraherorin;
qe turmezonte shpirtin tim.

Dikur dashuronja thithkat;
qe llastuan buzet e mia.

Dikur dashuronja hithken;
qe me plot hir,
ankoronte gjithe qenien time.

Dikur dashuronja barkun;
qe do te perfeksiononte trashegimine time.

Dikur dashuronja vallen “alla-shqiptarce”;
qe i kthente femijerine buzeqeshjes sime.

Dikur dashuronja t’i thonja:
“Oh Zemer, sa fort t’du”;
c’do mengjes,
ne gjuhen tone te shenjte.

Dikur dashuronja t’i jepja veten time,
pasionin tim,
Jazz-in tim…

Ah dikur…!

Por sic e sheh, ky eshte nje kapitull i mbyllur.

Ka ngelur vetem dikur.

Asgje s’vlen me; s’kam c’te ndaj e te dashuroj me ne te.

Me dashje apo pa dashje; me qejf apo jo…

Asgje s’eshte me, ishte vetem dikur…!!!