Two Poems

Poetry Gëzim Hajdari
Translated from the Italian by Charif Shanahan


Ripped from the earth like weeds
we clutch at our names,

we do not know how
this loneliness has found us.

Maybe we should have lived
closer to the trees,
to the upturned tombstones.

For years we have walked
the bare fields
without a childhood.

A slow snow begins to fall  [...]

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“Each new issue feels like a public report from many individual private spheres.” —Antoine Wilson

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Issue 22



Winter 2015


Gëzim Hajdari was born in Lushnjë, Albania, and has been living in political exile near Rome since the early 1990s. He was awarded the 1997 Eugenio Montale Poetry Prize for his collection Corpo presente (Body present, Tirana), which includes the poems in this issue.


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