Basri Çapriqi is born in Ulqin in 1960. He finished high school in Ulqin. He studied Albanian Literature at the University of Prishtina and received his Master’s Degree in 1988 in Philological Sciences. In 2004 he received his Ph. D. in Prishtine. He works at the University of Prishtina where he teaches Stylistics, Semiotics and Contemporary poetry. His poetry has been included in several anthologies of Albanian Literature. His poetry has also been translated in English, French, German, Rumanian, Polish, Serb/Croat, Turkis, Arabic and Macedonian. He is the president of Kosova PEN Center. He was the president of the Governing Board of University of Prishtina and from 2012 hi is member of Albanian Academy of Arts and Sciences.
He writes poetry, literary critique, essays. He has published seven collections of poetry and five collections of literary critique. Among his works of poetry the most known are: ‘He Mocks Me’, ‘The Bizarre Fruits’, ‘Grass on the Window’, ‘The Taming of the Snake’. Literary critique: ‘The Microstructure of the Text’, ‘The Dimensions of Context’, ‘The Symbol and Its Rivals’, ‘The Kadare Paradigm’.
Literary prizes and Awards: The Award of the Poetry Meeting in Gjakova (1996, 2007), The Award of Art Club, Ulqin (1994), the Award Lasgush Poradeci, Albania (1992) and The Silver Medal, in the competition for poetry at the International Saloon of The Academie Europeenne Des Arts, Bruxelles (2007)
THE OYSTER
Open up
I want to get out
And drink water straight off the sky
Leave the stars be
Drink water from my mouth
We shut away our seed
At the bottom of the sea
How long are we shut off
Lost inside oh God
And can not hear the voices of the water
THE PILLOW
I took a pillow full of soft feathers, placed it
under my head. I wanted to sleep,
soft and in peace. So soft and white
I held it close to my chest. I caressed my face
and spread my warm breath over. So many soft
birds I said, under my neck sleep their eternal
peace. As I was getting used to it and
could not do without so soft and warm
feathers strangely one by one got
out and filled my entire room first,
then my entire house and after
all the neighborhood. I being used
so soft and warm, to faraway
dreams got the signal to have been captured
by cold fever. And I could not stand it,
you wild birds, I burst out, strangling me
almost by your white feathers.
And it became cold, really cold. The
emptiness of the pillow abandoned and
feathers changing season led me into
some clouds of wool after so much time.
THE FUNERAL
They are so many and
He is all alone above their shoulders
I switch on the TV and lie down
He is still alone and They
On their feet Eat a hasty hot
Dog or something alike
I switch the channel There it is
The funeral from the start
I switch off the TV I say
It is time to be alone
Leave the Window Open
Leave the window open leave the window
for the air of the street to come let it all burn out
Leave the window open leave the window
to swallow up breath to let out the odour of the body
Leave the window open leave the window
to break the vision in the eyes to clarify the spirit
from the closed space
Leave the window open leave the window
resounds the epic voice of the poets children rush to
escape from the darkness from the sharpened tones
Leave the window open leave the window
the beasts come down the mountain they tread upon dead apples in dead women
Leave the window open leave the window
it rains water some water especially some water drop
on the chapped lips
Leave the window open leave the window
free yourself of passion of guilt greet your dead especially
Leave the window open leave the window
Sleep with dogs insects with spirits of the dark with faraway voices
Leave the window open leave the window
corpses are your sincere companions, look they do not kill you
do not stand in your way do not take your breath
Leave the window open leave the window
red rain drops before you are off on that final journey
with umbrellas of steel
Leave the window open leave the window
break the square mirror in the corner of the room
with your face and set off
Leave the window open leave the window
especially
as you are dead in the army marching to the heavens
close the door close
lest the beasts and humans get out
THE GRASS ON THE WINDOW
My fruits get rotten on the table
I start to pick unripe apples
to kill the due date of the fruit’s death
someone who loves me secretly
throws me her unripe cheek
to make me give up the unknown apples
kick the fruits in the evening
a distant voice tells me
that the buds come out of the mud in the morning
throw the seed beyond the garden
when the season change and the leaves drop
guard your home before leaves cover your face
if the grass gets in your window
do not say garden has grown on the table
its death’s triumph over the green arch
Translated from Albanian by: Sazana Çapriqi