The evening walk, the mother and the town

Cover photo by Jora Vaso – Tirana, Albania The evening walk I walk along the street in the city of memory and dreams I hear Taylor Swift from the favorite neighborhood meatball joint I laugh Ridiculous I think I quickly forget as I hear behind me a beautiful older Chinese couple arguing I laugh Immediately I think In one week I leave My mother won’t … Continue reading The evening walk, the mother and the town

Goodbye Summer: Poems by Derek Walcott and Zbigniew Herbert

The bitter end of summer. The sun, predictably leaving us, yet still cruelly, like a lover we’re not yet ready to relinquish. Selfish, narcissistic, too confident we’ll be waiting. Wiser than us. Leaving a fire behind, now only waiting to go out as we struggle to prematurely forget, all too ready to throw our overwhelming feelings to the wind. The sun should have turned them … Continue reading Goodbye Summer: Poems by Derek Walcott and Zbigniew Herbert

My long journey to Paterson

I meant to sit down and write about many other movies. “Moonlight”, for instance, made me experience stomach pangs unlike any I had felt in a while and that, indeed, I had forgotten. I was there with the characters during the long, tension-filled, concluding scene, feeling their fear, hesitation, shame, resolve to go through with what they must. It tired me but, in the end, … Continue reading My long journey to Paterson

One hundred and some lines

Above, Paul Cézanne's Leda and the Swan

Below, a personal reflection that rings true and universal. Especially on this day, an hour before Donald Trump begins his presidency, instead of changing our profile photos, tweeting our loss of hope, crying publicly over Obama and, overall, taking pleasure and indulging in our "despair", these lines reminded me that we can also think about how we got here. To take a gentle, perhaps scary step back rather than run aggressively, blindly forward. Although there are no clear answers, in the lines of this poem or elsewhere, for that matter, there is something to be said about pointing fingers everywhere, equally, indiscriminately and being truthful with ourselves.

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The Bridge, Rejection, Give It Up!, and A Little Fable: Kafka’s short masterpieces

There is no better literature than the kind that makes you seek to understand but never reveals itself to you in its entirety. The moment you think you understand, you recall yet another word or phrase you conveniently forgot on your path to clear answers. To this literature, you must return…and return. The Bridge I was stiff and cold, I was a bridge, I lay … Continue reading The Bridge, Rejection, Give It Up!, and A Little Fable: Kafka’s short masterpieces

Seneca, My Latin Lover

One of the letters from Roman philosopher Lucius Annaeus Seneca to his friend, Lucilius Junior will be the reason I finally learn Latin. Greetings from Seneca to Lucilius Continue to act thus, my dear Lucilius—set yourself free for your own sake; gather and save your time, which til lately has been forced from you, or filched away, or has merely slipped from your hands. Make … Continue reading Seneca, My Latin Lover