Still Drunk With The Storm (Part I) – Five poems by Ndue Ukaj

Noah’s Ark

Noah’s Ark was not emptied

even when the rainbow

scintillated over the sea

and the winds stopped

and the sea slept.

She was not emptied,

even when the white dove

flew before her and,

from the narrow doors

appeared the faces of the

passionate, spurred to feel

all the bright colors

straight away.

Noah’s ark fights on,

still drunk with the storm,

Fights the rain of life falling

Nonstop with evil men

who have ruined the soil…

Since the people, drunk, overwhelmed

with the desire to ransack the colors

of the rainbow’s arch, trust me,

peace has not overspread us

Though a dove appeared

in the blue blue sky

desire overwhelmed us –

to become drunk with

warm lips, to die there

and preserve eternally

that instant of drunkenness

Night fell; the rainbow disappeared

in an orbit of darkness, just like

some thing unknown beyond a great hill.

And darkness enshrouded our eyes,

the same as Eve’s darkness – her

overwhelming desire for the apple

in the tree of wisdom,

Oh God, wouldn’t you think

after that battle between

the rainbow’s arch and the storm

we might have lost our taste

for the forbidden fruit?

Life’s philosophy in the Midwest

Opposite roads pursue me like unknown desires

Behind which is attacking fiercely the question:

What is this life where we are without being asked?

And in its theater is being played something unknown.

There just like in antique scenes appear actors’ masks

While satisfying the public with diverse taste

And share comedies and tragedies all of a sudden.

Time flows just like the river where

We can bathe only once in its water.

Then come sadness and desire to submerge for the second time.

This is how the roads are crossed in which

Our feet are confused,

Like the unknown between the dense forest.

And ask confused:

What is this time in which we travel?

While looking for significant through narrow glasses

While looking for the end, with small hands

There where is touched the invisible view through the way of clouds

Together with small steps that consume ideas

Without meeting those we love

At a time when everything was good

Everything rightful just like our trip

In search of lost roads, ancient forest

We ask drunken:

We are searching the truth through wrong paths

Searching lies through the right paths

And never could be learned the art of love.

Just like the truth, Sun is born the same for the good and the bad.

To be lost in the endless struggle

Which exchanges shapes, colors and perception?

In the same struggle of war between darkness and light.

In the city of a cloud

In the city of cloud everything is different.

Thoughts are enclosed just as our deception through statues.

There flowers live a life of bushes,

And within them dance freely only insects

My God,

The city of cloud has its narrow streets,

And its thoughts are narrow

And the song of Halleluiah is not heard.

There is no room for exhaustion

Through exhausted feet is extended

And the word tries in vain to defend the corrupt dignity.

Spiders have set their webs

And rudiments of a mind are turned into a night romance, romance of time.

In the city of cloud the theater’s lights are shut

And shows are made under the pressure of candles that fight with darkness

Poetry is read in the corners of sorrow

Where only dogs with flees walk in quietness.

Where nastiness of politics has ruined everything,

Up to the birds sounds and kisses of loved ones.

In the city of clouds, dust has covered flowers.

And in the middle there is a lake of ignorance

Where freedom and war have no borders,

Where poetry and non-poetry have no borders.

Where there are stolen many pains

That run through the sky and turned into food

For the hungry stomach of politics.

Just as our solitude through vibrating legs

That is disrupted in flooded roads

With men walking endlessly,

With men walking endlessly.

Since then it begun to be miss counted,

Since then it begun to be bent,

Since then it begun to turn into evil

In the city is felt the sky’s lack “city of God.”

Godo Is Coming

Stop crying continuously! Godo is coming
The storm has stopped, the road from Ireland is open
He has softened his turbulent vision and his sadness of Achilles
Even the pain in his chest has healed.
He is coming through the Tree of Life.
Where you have created the nest of welcome
With a swamp of wishes noisily tied.
Godo is coming with the music of sea full of silence.
Your welcome has given him courage,
He is coming with the sack full of enigmas,
Nearby the rotten Tree
Where you wait to enter your shaking hands
That were bitten by the irony of endless waiting.
And the words that were changing their shape every morning.

Your bulb does not trust time, neither for the waiting and Godo’s arrival.
With the branches of tree designs the crown of victory. What a great joy.
With reduced hopes until the lost confidence, dissolves the vision
And is crossing the furious river without being recognized.
Suddenly comes back.
Sitting nearby a tree with your shining items
Where the white lights swallow your emotion ate vision.
Where you are saving the nostalgia of reception. The heart’s step.
Through the tired fingers are counting the theatre of absurdities
With naked actors nearby which
The spectators are spread through the meridians of death.
While waiting for Godo.
And the fear from the sneak on the rotten Tree,
Which is whipping continuously.

Therefore Godo is coming; your reception has made him courageous.
Near the tree of life
With the team of actors to build the theatre of salvation for you.
And the time of reception to last until he comes.

Godo Is Here

It is night, the storm is going mad
Your wet body is shaking from the heavy rain
Under the tree of life while waiting for Godo.
The reception has transformed you into a modern statue.
Where the lonely birds and night crows have their life nests.
Your solitude is crouching as a tied sneak
Between which the poisonous tongue is vitalized.
Suddenly is heard an energetic beating, you did not hear it.
Your ears are closed from the warms climbing over your body.
Climbing just as the old man in front of the law on Kafka’s story.
Waiting to enter in the mysteries of law, I am sorry, I meant mysteries of Godo.
To understand the mystery of absurdity in equal level
With those of dehumanization.
My God,
Godo is here, with his confusing look and his torn sack,
With lost desires during the long road of return
Under the tree of life where you waited endlessly.
You did not recognize him,
He returned with a different face which you never imagined.
With the tired voice you had never heard,
With the turbulent vision you had seen.
Sadness astounded your body. The warms are falling down
from your body which is transformed into waiting.
Sadly you grabbed the spoiled head, and run through his sack
While searching your dried dreams just as the autumn leafs
Through which the drunk feet are walking
And your tears started falling in your neck and cheek
You felt in the arms of sadness
Welcomed him just as the bride waiting for the groom in the abandoned bed,
While dreaming with open arms to have nearby the sack full of dreams
Where softly you place your hands, just as in the lovely hair…relaxing there
And begging for your dream, intertwined in your long fingers.
And while wiping your forehead you understand

That Godo arrived and your wait remained an endless wait.

(Translated from Albanian by Peter Tase)

Ndue Ukaj (1977) is an Albanian writer, publicist and literary critic. His poems has been included in several anthologies of poetry, in Albanian, and other languages. He has published several books, including “Godo is not coming”, which won the national award for best book of poetry published in 2010 in Kosovo. He has also won the award for best poems in the International Poetry Festival in Macedonia and another prize. His poems and texts are translated into English, Spanish, Italian, Romanian, Finnish, Swedish, Turkish and Chinese. Ukaj is member of Swedish PEN.