Fatos Arapi

Vlorë

Poems On My Mother

Little Mother

Mother has shrunk,
As if constantly stooping,
My heart quivers,
So brittle, so tiny...
Almost as if she were my child,
my mother.
She paces the room, back and forth,
Talks to herself,
Is always searching in a corner,
Has always lost something,
Something or other.
She paces the room, back and forth,
And I get the feeling
She is going to trip over
The beams of sunlight
Flooding through the window,
my mother.

And Don't Forget

I just took her to the hospital
and she says to me:
'When you come by tomorrow, bring me my slippers,
And the scissors for my nails,
And the newspaper.
Oh, my little treasure, and don't forget
The black scarf,
my widow's scarf.

No More Letters

I don't get any more letters from my mother,
Letters in which she always asks for money,
Money for her heart medication,
Money for her eye treatment.
My mother's eyes cannot see anymore,
My mother's heart does not beat anymore,
And now, at the end of every month
I have 200 leks left over in my pocket

To whom shall I send them?

Winter sun

How quickly the flowers have covered my mother's grave,
February has just begun, and already the violets
And the daisies are everywhere,
This is my mother,
Like a winter sun
Down
There.
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