![\"Mero](\"http:\/\/www.shkoder.net\/images\/fjala\/2010\/rreshpja.jpg\")
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Sokol Zekaj<\/strong>, 20.04.2010<\/em><\/p>\n N\u00eb shtat\u00ebdhjet\u00eb vjetorin e lindjes \/ Poeti la pak poezi, gjithsej nj\u00eb lib\u00ebr prej m\u00eb pak se dyqind faqesh. <\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Gjithsesi, kjo rac\u00eb artist\u00ebsh nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb shquar ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb p\u00ebr sasi. Shtoji k\u00ebtij fakti, faktin tjet\u00ebr se p\u00ebr Fredin, drita jeshile u hap von\u00eb, kur qe b\u00ebr\u00eb mosp\u00ebrfill\u00ebs ndaj disa gj\u00ebrave si suksesi.<\/p>\n Sot kam shfletuar librat e Frederik Rreshpjes, nj\u00eb poet shkodran t\u00eb cilin e lexoj her\u00eb pas here dhe asnj\u00ebher\u00eb nuk e mbyll me ndjesin\u00eb se e lexova. Kam shtat\u00eb libra t\u00eb Frederikut. Libri i par\u00eb titullohet Rapsodi shqiptare dhe \u00ebsht\u00eb botuar m\u00eb 1968. At\u00ebher\u00eb poeti ishte nj\u00ebzetetet\u00eb vje\u00e7. M\u00eb pas vjen romani Z\u00ebri i larg\u00ebt i kasolles botuar m\u00eb 1972 nd\u00ebrsa nj\u00eb vit m\u00eb pas, m\u00eb 1973 del n\u00eb qarkullim v\u00ebllimi i dyt\u00eb poetik i tij N\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb qytet.<\/p>\n N\u00eb vazhdim nj\u00eb heshtje e gjat\u00eb derisa m\u00eb 1994 shfaqet me Erdhi ora t\u00eb vdes p\u00ebrs\u00ebri. Dy vjet m\u00eb pas boton p\u00ebrmbledhjen Lirika t\u00eb zgjedhura, nd\u00ebrsa m\u00eb 2004 dalin nj\u00ebra pas tjetr\u00ebs dy botime t\u00eb poezive, Vetmi dhe N\u00eb vetmi. M\u00eb 17 shkurt 2006 vdes.<\/p>\n Miqt\u00eb q\u00eb e kan\u00eb dashur dhe i kan\u00eb ndenjur pran\u00eb, e paraqesin si njeri fisnik ve\u00e7se t\u00eb v\u00ebshtir\u00eb. Dhe, \u00ebsht\u00eb e besueshme.<\/p>\n Ai b\u00ebnte pjes\u00eb te ata q\u00eb quhen poet\u00eb t\u00eb lindur. Nuk ka nj\u00eb poet t\u00eb gjuh\u00ebs shqipe q\u00eb t’i qaset m\u00eb bindsh\u00ebm k\u00ebtij p\u00ebrcaktimi. Ai ishte poet i gjinis\u00eb s\u00eb William Blak-ut, Arthur Rimbaud-s\u00eb, Sergej Eseninit etj, nj\u00eb rac\u00eb q\u00eb tek ne \u00ebsht\u00eb disi n\u00eb munges\u00eb.<\/p>\n Jam lemerisur nj\u00ebher\u00eb kur kam d\u00ebgjuar nj\u00eb shkrimtar por edhe poet (pretendimi i tij) shqiptar me grad\u00eb akademik t\u00eb thoshte: un\u00eb mund t\u00eb shkruaja si simbolist\u00ebt francez\u00eb (Rimbaud, Verlain, Mallarme) por s’do m\u00eb kuptonte lexuesi yn\u00eb!<\/p>\n N\u00eb fakt libri i par\u00eb i Frederikut, \u00ebsht\u00eb i kopsitur mir\u00eb sipas k\u00ebrkesave t\u00eb asaj kohe. Ishte mesi i viteve ’60. Shteti komunist p\u00ebrpunon ambiciet e veta p\u00ebr t\u00eb kontrolluar dhe shtypur mendimin e lir\u00eb dhe nd\u00ebrgjegjen e njer\u00ebzve, madje edhe vet\u00eb natyr\u00ebn e liris\u00eb, p\u00ebr ta kthyer individin n\u00eb mas\u00eb.<\/p>\n N\u00eb k\u00ebto kushte q\u00eb e rrethojn\u00eb nga jasht\u00eb, dhe kur energjia e brendshme krijuese k\u00ebrkon terren, poeti b\u00ebn l\u00ebshime n\u00eb temat e tij. Nga ana artistike, ai \u00ebsht\u00eb n\u00eb k\u00ebrkim t\u00eb vetvetes, t\u00eb z\u00ebrit t\u00eb vet t\u00eb brendsh\u00ebm, brenda atij pylli t\u00eb v\u00ebshtir\u00ebsive q\u00eb ekzistonin, teksa ndihet i prirur kah tonet e larta, kah epika e gj\u00ebrave.<\/p>\n Libri i dyt\u00eb me poezi N\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb qytet, \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb kap\u00ebrcim i ndjesh\u00ebm drejt cil\u00ebsis\u00eb. Z\u00ebri \u00ebsht\u00eb zbutur dhe ka marr\u00eb ngjyrime interesante, ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb uitmaniane. Dihet se arti n\u00eb at\u00eb koh\u00eb duhej t\u00eb pohonte lumturin\u00eb, nj\u00eb ndjenj\u00eb q\u00eb si\u00e7 thot\u00eb Valery-a “nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb e prirur me u kthye n\u00eb fjal\u00eb p\u00ebr shkak se \u00ebsht\u00eb q\u00ebllim n\u00eb vetvete”.<\/p>\n Por poeti ia ka dal\u00eb t\u00eb zot\u00ebroj\u00eb nj\u00eb alkimi p\u00ebrmes s\u00eb cil\u00ebs p\u00ebrpunon l\u00ebnd\u00ebn e vet. Dhe megjith\u00ebse kjo l\u00ebnd\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb p\u00ebrgjith\u00ebsisht e imponuar, ai arrin t\u00eb jap\u00eb efekte t\u00eb v\u00ebrteta artistike. P\u00ebr t\u00eb nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb i r\u00ebnd\u00ebsish\u00ebm sinqeriteti por krijimi. “Anila, zog i lumtur q\u00eb ik\u00ebn mbi \u00e7atit\u00eb e dit\u00ebve \/ Rinia jote erdhi si nj\u00eb lajm i madh q\u00eb i bie port\u00ebs.” shkruan poeti te poezia Let\u00ebr Anil\u00ebs.<\/p>\n Vet\u00ebm n\u00eb nj\u00eb gj\u00eb kishte besim dhe bindje: poezia. Ai nuk ishte i varur as te nj\u00eb krah i politik\u00ebs, as te nj\u00eb shkoll\u00eb e artit, as te nj\u00eb mik i bardh\u00eb as te nj\u00eb mik i zi. Ai ishte nj\u00eb shpirt i pakufizuar dhe, si i till\u00eb \u00e7monte lirin\u00eb. Kaq. Un\u00eb me njer\u00ebzit rri p\u00ebr edukat\u00eb – do t\u00eb shprehej n\u00eb nj\u00eb intervist\u00eb. Nj\u00ebher\u00eb, kishte udh\u00ebtuar nga Shkodra n\u00eb Tiran\u00eb, dhe aty n\u00eb Lidhjen e Shkrimtar\u00ebve, prit\u00ebsit e pyesin p\u00ebr nj\u00eb shkrimtar, mik t\u00eb tij: \u00e7’thot\u00eb X-i? P\u00ebrgjigja qe: mir\u00eb, i shkreti, por nuk ka talent.<\/p>\n Libri i dyt\u00eb u shkrua dhe u botua n\u00eb fillim t\u00eb viteve ’70 n\u00eb koh\u00ebn e shkurt\u00ebr t\u00eb liberalizmit. Pak koh\u00eb m\u00eb pas, ai do mund t\u00eb cil\u00ebsohej si i pap\u00ebrshtatsh\u00ebm p\u00ebr shkak t\u00eb ekuivokeve dhe ambiguiteteve, por edhe t\u00eb risive t\u00eb cilat ishin t\u00eb mistershme p\u00ebr sistemin, dhe nuk do t\u00eb botohej. Ja nj\u00eb shenj\u00eb moderniteti, mbivendosje metaforash, nga ky lib\u00ebr: d\u00ebgjoj er\u00ebn si fryn n\u00ebp\u00ebr fjal\u00ebt e mia t\u00eb cilat befas u b\u00ebn\u00eb t\u00eb gjelb\u00ebra\/.<\/p>\n Ky lib\u00ebr ka shum\u00eb drit\u00eb, ngjyra dhe shpres\u00eb, t\u00eb gjitha n\u00eb l\u00ebvizje t\u00eb p\u00ebrhershme. K\u00ebtu b\u00ebn pjes\u00eb edhe balada e bukur Kata. At\u00ebher\u00eb autori sapo i kishte kaluar t\u00eb tridhjetat.<\/p>\n N\u00ebse krejt jet\u00ebn e poetit do ta qasnim me nj\u00eb dit\u00eb astronomike, at\u00ebher\u00eb kjo periudh\u00eb do t\u00eb ishte dita, nd\u00ebrsa vitet e pas n\u00ebnt\u00ebdhjet\u00ebs, mbr\u00ebmja, e mbase edhe nata e tij. Poezit\u00eb q\u00eb i p\u00ebrkasin k\u00ebsaj t\u00eb fundit, kan\u00eb shum\u00eb hije dhe trishtim, dhe pak drit\u00eb e optimiz\u00ebm.<\/p>\n Duket sikur as edhe dhimbje nuk ka mbetur m\u00eb, por vet\u00ebm hi. N\u00eb fakt kjo mund t\u00eb thuhet vet\u00ebm n\u00eb kuptimin fizik t\u00eb gj\u00ebrave, sepse n\u00eb poezi tashm\u00eb, alkimia e poetit \u00ebsht\u00eb b\u00ebr\u00eb vet\u00eb magjia, nd\u00ebrsa ajo \u00e7ka ka humbur me kalimin e viteve \u00ebsht\u00eb artificialiteti pasi edhe vet\u00eb artificet letrare jan\u00eb b\u00ebr\u00eb l\u00ebnd\u00eb.<\/p>\n Kemi vet\u00ebm poezi: emocione intensive estetike, imazhe q\u00eb transpozohen nga nj\u00eb varg te tjetri, ironi, paradokse. Shfaqja e k\u00ebsaj poezie determinuese n\u00eb jet\u00ebn letrare shqiptare, menj\u00ebher\u00eb sapo ra diktatura, mbetet edhe sot nj\u00eb mister.<\/p>\n Dikur poezia e tij jo rrall\u00eb kishte trajt\u00eb ditari, takime dhe p\u00ebrvoja me njer\u00ebz dhe vende. Kishte kronik\u00eb dhe gjeografi. Kjo lloj poezie ka shum\u00eb pika komunikimi me publikun. Tani temat pothuajse jan\u00eb zhdukur. Ka mbetur ve\u00e7se l\u00ebnda e pand\u00ebrrueshme e brend\u00ebsis\u00eb s\u00eb shpirtit, nj\u00eb l\u00ebnd\u00eb thelb\u00ebsore q\u00eb merr trajt\u00eb n\u00eb l\u00ebvizjet dhe fiksimet dhe p\u00ebrs\u00ebri l\u00ebvizjet e nj\u00eb imagjinate t\u00eb pakusht\u00ebzuar.<\/p>\n E gjith\u00eb hap\u00ebsira astronomike \u00ebsht\u00eb transpozuar n\u00eb hap\u00ebsir\u00eb shpirt\u00ebrore. Perceptimi i bot\u00ebs nuk b\u00ebhet m\u00eb p\u00ebrmes p\u00ebrvojave empirike por p\u00ebrmes shkrepjeve intuitive.<\/p>\n N\u00ebqoft\u00ebse n\u00eb vitet shtat\u00ebdhjet\u00eb, shkruante nj\u00eb poezi p\u00ebr Anil\u00ebn p\u00ebr t\u00eb b\u00ebr\u00eb di\u00e7ka t\u00eb bukur dhe t\u00eb pranueshme, n\u00eb periudh\u00ebn e dyt\u00eb gj\u00ebrat kan\u00eb ndryshuar. Tash, edhe kur shkruan p\u00ebr dhimbjen e vet, nuk e b\u00ebn k\u00ebt\u00eb p\u00ebr t’ua b\u00ebr\u00eb t\u00eb ditur t\u00eb tjer\u00ebve. Ai n\u00eb fakt shtiret, si\u00e7 thot\u00eb Pessoa, sikur ndien dhimbje nga dhimbja q\u00eb ka.<\/p>\n Shkruan poezi jo p\u00ebr t\u00eb realizuar vetveten sepse kjo do t’i mbetet p\u00ebrgjithmon\u00eb e parealizuar si\u00e7 ka dashur dikur, por ve\u00e7 p\u00ebr t\u00eb kujtuar nj\u00eb pasion t\u00eb vjet\u00ebr. Ve\u00e7se ky kujdes p\u00ebr kujtes\u00eb, \u00ebsht\u00eb vet\u00eb qenia e tij ekzistenciale. Tashm\u00eb kur i ka kaluar t\u00eb pes\u00ebdhjetat, sjell nd\u00ebr mend se dikur nuk trembej nga gjinit\u00eb e gjata t\u00eb let\u00ebrsis\u00eb: romane, poema. Tani n\u00eb nj\u00eb intervist\u00eb kujton Eluarin t\u00eb ket\u00eb th\u00ebn\u00eb: “por le t\u00eb pyesim n\u00ebse ai luftoi m\u00eb par\u00eb se bota ta mundte at\u00eb”.<\/p>\n Dhe, n\u00eb t\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00eb poeti yn\u00eb luftoi duke ndjekur natyr\u00ebn e tij. Vet\u00eb leximi i saj b\u00ebhet pjes\u00eb e t\u00eb krijuarit. Askush nuk i ka ditur k\u00ebto gj\u00ebra kaq mir\u00eb sa Frederiku. Mir\u00ebpo kjo e b\u00ebn poezin\u00eb t\u00eb jet\u00eb elitare d.m.th ia pak\u00ebson asaj pikat e komunikimit me publikun e gj\u00ebr\u00eb i cili, duhet th\u00ebn\u00eb, e ka m\u00eb t\u00eb leht\u00eb t’i qaset logjik\u00ebs s\u00eb thjesht\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrvojave se loj\u00ebs valavit\u00ebse t\u00eb imagjinat\u00ebs. E megjithat\u00eb, “talenti mendon, artisti sheh” thoshte p\u00ebrs\u00ebri William Blake-u. Frederiku \u00ebsht\u00eb poet i p\u00ebrfytyrimeve dhe vegimeve.<\/p>\n Poeti la pak poezi, gjithsej nj\u00eb lib\u00ebr prej m\u00eb pak se dyqind faqesh. Gjithsesi, kjo rac\u00eb artist\u00ebsh nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb shquar ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb p\u00ebr sasi. Shtoji k\u00ebtij fakti, faktin tjet\u00ebr se p\u00ebr Fredin, drita jeshile u hap von\u00eb, kur qe b\u00ebr\u00eb mosp\u00ebrfill\u00ebs ndaj disa gj\u00ebrave si suksesi. N\u00eb Franc\u00eb, q\u00eb p\u00ebr ne \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb yll, Jean Cocteau qe autodidakt por e kuror\u00ebzuan akademik, ndon\u00ebse edhe ky, jo se qe shum\u00eb i p\u00ebrshtatur me shoq\u00ebrin\u00eb ku jetoi.<\/p>\n P\u00ebr t\u00eb nj\u00eb grua e njohur pati shkruar: ai ecte me krenarin\u00eb e nj\u00eb shpendi t\u00eb eg\u00ebr q\u00eb rast\u00ebsisht ka r\u00ebn\u00eb n\u00eb nj\u00eb oborr me shpend\u00eb. P\u00ebr ata q\u00eb e kan\u00eb njohur, kjo \u00ebsht\u00eb si e th\u00ebn\u00eb p\u00ebr poetin ton\u00eb.<\/p>\n Rreshpja nuk qe nga ata artist\u00eb q\u00eb p\u00ebrmes pasaport\u00ebs s\u00eb artit b\u00ebjn\u00eb karrier\u00eb diku tjet\u00ebr, dhe as nga ata q\u00eb japin “gjenin\u00eb n\u00eb jet\u00eb, talentin n\u00eb vepra”. N\u00eb socializ\u00ebm – i persekutuar, n\u00eb demokraci – i shp\u00ebrfillur jo domosdoshm\u00ebrisht p\u00ebr faj t\u00eb t\u00eb tjer\u00ebve, i paaft\u00eb p\u00ebr tu sistemuar n\u00eb jet\u00eb, vepr\u00ebn e vet e krijoi n\u00eb kushtet e mjerimit dhe dhimbjes, plot plag\u00eb shpirt\u00ebrore, ndon\u00ebse fakti q\u00eb adhuronte De Rad\u00ebn na thot\u00eb se do t\u00eb kishte preferuar klim\u00ebn e but\u00eb, t\u00eb qet\u00eb, me prirje orfeike.<\/p>\n Poezi brilante, t\u00eb kursyera n\u00eb fjal\u00eb, q\u00eb rrall\u00eb i kalojn\u00eb nj\u00ebzet vargjet, gjithmon\u00eb t\u00eb mbyllura n\u00eb nj\u00eb unitet t\u00eb pac\u00ebnuesh\u00ebm, ato nuk jan\u00eb t\u00eb v\u00ebshtira p\u00ebr tu kuptuar por jan\u00eb elitare p\u00ebr shkak t\u00eb rafinimit t\u00eb thell\u00eb artistik, t\u00eb mbivendosjes s\u00eb imazheve e t\u00eb metaforave, mendimit obskur dhe shkrep\u00ebtitjes s\u00eb larg\u00ebt, prandaj nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb popullore, ndon\u00ebse kjo \u00ebsht\u00eb shenj\u00eb e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb e modernitetit, vlera t\u00eb cilat ne jo se i kemi me tepri, p\u00ebrkundrazi.<\/p>\n Ajo nuk synon t\u00eb artikuloj\u00eb jet\u00ebn njer\u00ebzore n\u00eb gjer\u00ebsi por \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb z\u00eb i mahnitsh\u00ebm i ndijimeve si shprehje shpirti universal. Po jap si shembull nj\u00ebr\u00ebn, Rekuiem, nga libri Erdhi ora t\u00eb vdes p\u00ebrs\u00ebri, botuar m\u00eb 1994:<\/p>\n Noton n\u00eb p\u00ebrrua me gjethe mb\u00ebshtjell\u00eb Rr\u00ebzohet nga drur\u00ebt trishtimi i bor\u00ebs M\u00eb vdiq dhe kjo vjesht\u00eb, m\u00eb shkoi si kjo dit\u00eb K\u00eb vjesht\u00eb t\u00eb qajm\u00eb m\u00eb par\u00eb?<\/p>\n M\u00ebkati i k\u00ebsaj poezie \u00ebsht\u00eb se, duke qen\u00eb universale, l\u00ebnda q\u00eb mbart nuk na \u00e7on te ndonj\u00eb gjeografi e njohur as te ndonj\u00eb koh\u00eb e njohur, ku ne t\u00eb lidhim sentimentet tona empirike, e megjithat\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb e rrall\u00eb p\u00ebrnga cil\u00ebsia e realizimit, p\u00ebrmes nj\u00eb gjuhe q\u00eb k\u00ebndon si muzik\u00eb, gjithmon\u00eb e shkruar sakt\u00eb dhe past\u00ebr. Si\u00e7 e ka v\u00ebn\u00eb n\u00eb dukje studiuesi gjerman Hans Joachim-Lanksch, ndryshe nga \u00e7’b\u00ebn me jet\u00ebn, kaosin e poezis\u00eb s\u00eb vet, ai e organizon n\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00eb t\u00eb p\u00ebrkryer.<\/p>\n Ai b\u00ebnte pjes\u00eb n\u00eb elit\u00ebn artistike mbar\u00ebshqiptare. N\u00eb fakt ai jetoi gjithnj\u00eb n\u00eb skaj t\u00eb shoq\u00ebris\u00eb ndon\u00ebse nuk kishte asgj\u00eb nga veset p\u00ebr t\u00eb cilat shoq\u00ebria e past\u00ebr e mallkon njeriun. Por gjendja e tij shpirt\u00ebrore ishte gjithmon\u00eb n\u00eb munges\u00eb pasi ai jetonte n\u00eb hijen e per\u00ebndis\u00eb s\u00eb Humbjes. K\u00ebtej vijn\u00eb ngjyrimet e forta t\u00eb poezis\u00eb s\u00eb tij e cila duhet th\u00ebn\u00eb nuk bie n\u00eb dekadentiz\u00ebm por ka natyr\u00eb t\u00eb lart\u00eb dhe fisnike.<\/p>\n Sidoqoft\u00eb, nuk ka shenja t\u00eb mjaftueshme se Frederiku lexohet nga nx\u00ebn\u00ebsit apo student\u00ebt, pra se k\u00ebrkohet konsideruesh\u00ebm n\u00eb programet e shkollave. K\u00ebt\u00eb e ndiej sepse punoj n\u00eb nj\u00eb bibliotek\u00eb.<\/p>\n Tashm\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb or\u00eb e von\u00eb e nat\u00ebs. Nga Dajti ku prap\u00eb k\u00ebto dit\u00eb ka r\u00ebn\u00eb bor\u00eb, vjen nj\u00eb er\u00eb e ftoht\u00eb q\u00eb f\u00ebrsh\u00ebllen p\u00ebrmbi ndri\u00e7imin e krejt Tiran\u00ebs, e m\u00eb tej kodrave. O dimri i drer\u00ebve me brir\u00ebt n\u00eb er\u00eb! p\u00ebshp\u00ebris k\u00ebt\u00eb varg t\u00eb Frederikut. Mbi tavolin\u00eb kam shtat\u00eb librat e tij, t\u00eb gjith\u00eb t\u00eb botuar sa ishte gjall\u00eb, at\u00ebher\u00eb kur ai ishte poeti m\u00eb brilant i gjall\u00eb i gjuh\u00ebs shqipe (mendimi im). Mandej, duhen hulumtime dhe studime p\u00ebr k\u00ebt\u00eb vler\u00eb komb\u00ebtare t\u00eb cilat them se nuk do t\u00eb mungojn\u00eb pasi z\u00ebri i tij nuk mund t\u00eb ket\u00eb p\u00ebrgjigje tjet\u00ebr nga njer\u00ebzit e let\u00ebrsis\u00eb dhe artit p\u00ebrve\u00e7 pohimit.<\/p>\n Mes lexuesve q\u00eb ka, numri i adhuruesve t\u00eb tij \u00ebsht\u00eb ndoshta nga m\u00eb t\u00eb lart\u00ebt. Ka fituar \u00c7mimin Komb\u00ebtar t\u00eb Poezis\u00eb dhe \u00ebsht\u00eb p\u00ebrfshir\u00eb n\u00eb disa antologji serioze t\u00eb poezis\u00eb shqipe. Ka qen\u00eb n\u00eb v\u00ebmendjen e studiuesve dhe poet\u00ebve, qysh n\u00eb gjallje dhe m\u00eb pas. Sot e kujtojm\u00eb n\u00eb shtat\u00ebdhjet\u00eb vjetorin e lindjes. Poezia e tij Rozafa e flijuar mbyllet me k\u00ebto vargje:<\/p>\n O Medaur! Bekoje k\u00ebt\u00eb qytet q\u00eb lindi nga nj\u00eb grua Gj\u00ebrat e r\u00ebnd\u00ebsishme k\u00ebrkojn\u00eb sakrifica sublime. K\u00ebto e ushqejn\u00eb pand\u00ebrprer\u00eb vet\u00ebdijen ton\u00eb historike, shpirtin ton\u00eb t\u00eb pand\u00ebrruesh\u00ebm. Frederik Rreshpja pati nj\u00eb mision p\u00ebr t\u00eb p\u00ebrmbushur p\u00ebr t\u00eb cilin luftoi dhe sakrifikoi por nuk u thye, duke l\u00ebn\u00eb pas, n\u00eb radh\u00ebn e krijuesve t\u00eb m\u00ebdhenj bashk\u00ebqytetas, nj\u00eb vep\u00ebr cil\u00ebsisht dinjitoze, t\u00eb bekuar.<\/p>\n Autori \u00ebsht\u00eb poet, fitues i \u00c7mimit Penda e Argjendt\u00eb 2004 <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Sokol Zekaj, 20.04.2010 N\u00eb shtat\u00ebdhjet\u00eb vjetorin e lindjes \/ Poeti la pak poezi, gjithsej nj\u00eb lib\u00ebr prej m\u00eb pak se dyqind faqesh. Gjithsesi, kjo rac\u00eb artist\u00ebsh nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb shquar ndonj\u00ebher\u00eb p\u00ebr sasi. Shtoji k\u00ebtij fakti, faktin tjet\u00ebr se p\u00ebr Fredin, drita jeshile u hap von\u00eb, kur qe b\u00ebr\u00eb mosp\u00ebrfill\u00ebs ndaj disa gj\u00ebrave si suksesi. Sot […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,9],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nImagjinata e tij e nj\u00ebsuar me vet\u00eb qenien, funksionon p\u00ebrbukuri nd\u00ebr skaje t\u00eb fshehta dhe t\u00eb pazbuluara. Gj\u00ebrat nuk kan\u00eb m\u00eb nj\u00eb kuptim, nj\u00eb tingull, nj\u00eb ngjyr\u00eb. Sipas William Blake-ut, k\u00ebto jan\u00eb pun\u00eb t\u00eb arsyes, jo t\u00eb poezis\u00eb. Poezia e tij b\u00ebhet polifonike dhe multikolore. Ajo \u00ebsht\u00eb tashm\u00eb ekzistenca e gj\u00ebrave q\u00eb nuk ekzistojn\u00eb.<\/p>\n
\nNj\u00eb dit\u00eb e vdekur vjeshte
\nDhe shterg\u00ebt e fundit kaluan t\u00eb ngrir\u00eb
\nMe syt\u00eb e verdh\u00eb n\u00eb heshtje.<\/p>\n
\nLugina me h\u00ebn\u00eb e lyer
\nDhe drer\u00ebt e er\u00ebs ven\u00eb kuj\u00ebn me dhembje
\nMe brir\u00ebt prej akulli thyer.<\/p>\n
\nQefinin me gjethe t\u00eb thar\u00eb
\nO dimri i drer\u00ebve me brir\u00ebt n\u00eb er\u00eb<\/p>\n
\nPor sot nuk kemi n\u00eb dor\u00eb nj\u00eb botim integral dhe dinjitoz t\u00eb vepr\u00ebs q\u00eb la. Po, edhe n\u00ebse d\u00ebshiron nj\u00eb lib\u00ebr t\u00eb tij \u00e7far\u00ebdo, nuk e gjen dot.<\/p>\n
\nTani q\u00eb ra h\u00ebna e syve t\u00eb mi!<\/p>\n