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 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 his light …” is the last book of this authors.
She currently lives and works in Ancona, Italy.
Poems by Juljana Mehmeti
Dimension
In the small world of existence,
where segments are crossed like arches
circles of incomprehensibility of time
in an inevitable confrontation
of the Ego and judgment
there do not exist doors neither locks
out of the boundaries of the closed world,
where everything disappears
to the endless universe of consciousness,
beyond the vision of the invisible …
the reason comes and goes like clouds
and you are the sky ,
where senses flow through the trunk
and each dimension appearing
wastes away to your emptiness,
confessing everything…
In a self encountering
descends freely…
To the dancing of light with shadows,
experiences the ecstasy of renovation
going down smoothly
to the created harmony
of the equilibrium of music of life.
Hanging verse
You are not a dream,
but you are a hanging verse
refracted to the glowing colors
spelling, touching musical sounds
to the highest muses,
between the sky, to the burned sunsets
from the escaping sun
and return of the shining stars
to the edges of imagination and roaming
of the deepest thoughts
the trunk descending from the wings of clouds
with hidden desires.
you are my pleasant flavor
coming abruptly
from the breath of the spring wind
spread in invisible shapes
felt in my inside,
in every opened pore
to absorb the nectar, like the honeybee
and honeycombs filled
with visions, going beyond horizons
to the edge of light
in the mystery of sensation.
You are not a twilight, which leaps over the silent threshold,
but a call which wakes me up
I get lost in other lawns
and I discover other spaces,
until there,
where the infinites dive to the endlessness
raised above the arches of rainbows,
to bind two new worlds
of the flow if life
flowing like waves to the banks of spirit.
Translated into English by Arben Hoti
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