Forumi Horizont (http://www.forumihorizont.com/index.php3)
- Shkrimtare te huaj (http://www.forumihorizont.com/forumdisplay.php3?forumid=296)
-- poezi te poeteve te huaj (http://www.forumihorizont.com/showthread.php3?threadid=2098)

Citim:

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Po citoj ato qė tha durrsak
Nė mundsh...

Nė mundsh ta ruash arsyen, kur bota humbet fillin
e fajin ty ta hedh dhe vetes t’i besosh,
sa herė tek ti dyshojnė e s’tė pėrfillin
por dhe dyshimet drejt t’i gjykosh...
Nė mundsh tė rrish nė pritje, nga pritja pa u lodhur,
a, kur t’urrejnė, urrejtje mos t’ushqesh,
madje, ndaj shpifjeve tė rrish pa folur,
me thjeshtėsi, me ta pa rėnė ndesh...

Nė mundsh t’mendosh, por jo gjer nė shkatrrim,
tė ėndėrrosh, por jo si rob ėndėrrimesh,
dhe t’i trajtosh njėlloj e pa dallim
ngadhnjim e shpartallim burim mashtrimesh...
Nė durofsh dot qė thėniet e tua tė drejta
nė kurthe pėr trutharėt, kopuket tė t’i kthejnė,
t’i shohėsh tė thyera gjėrat mė tė shtrenjta
e prapė t’i ndėrtosh me vegla qė nuk vlejnė...

Nė mundsh fitoret qė ke korrur t’i flijosh
si nė kumar, nė njė tė vetme lojė,
tė rrezikosh, tė humbėsh e prapė t’ia fillosh,
dhe humbjen kurrė tė mos e zesh mė gojė...
Nė i detyrofsh dot muskul, nerv e puls e zemėr
tė tė shėrbejnė edhe kur gjithēka duket e kotė,
e tė qėndrosh kur s’ke asgjė mė veē vullnetit,
qė vec nje fjale “Qėndro!” gjithnje tė thotė...

Nė mundsh tė flasėsh me maskarenj
por nderin tėnd ta ruash
a t’ecėsh pėrkrah mbretit pa krenari qė tė verbon...
Nėse armiku apo miku s’tė bėjnė dot tė vuash,
dhe gjithkėnd e ēmon, pėr veē sa meriton...
Nė mundsh t’i mbushėsh ti minutat aq tė rėnda
me vepra qė peshojnė
dije dhe mos kij asnjė dyshim,
se jotja do tė jetė Bota, me gjith ē’ka brenda,
dhe BURRĖ do tė jesh, o biri im!



If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


--Rudyard Kipling

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