Fahredin Shehu – Three Poems

Fahredin Shehu was born in Rahovec, South East of Kosova, and graduated at Prishtina University, Oriental Studies. In the last thirty years, he operated as Independent Scientific Researcher in the field of World Spiritual Heritage and Sacral Esthetics
Translated in English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Polish, Greek, Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, Macedonian, Bulgarian, Roma, Swedish, Turkish, Arabic, Hebrew, Romanian, Mongolian, Chinese, Maltese, Frisian, Sicilian, Bengali, Bahasa.  
He authored 20 books, poems, essays, novels etc.
Wrote many reviews, edited many books and anthologies, to mention: World Healing World Peace, Two volumes Anthology, Inner Child Press USA- 2014 
Director of Balkan Literature sector of the Kosovo PEN Center 
Founder and member of South European Literature Association in Sofia, Bulgaria
Award-winning Poet, Naaji Naaman Prize for Poetry, Beirut, Lebanon, 2016
Pulitzer Prize Nominated 2017
Doctor Honoris Causa, Universum Academy Lugano, Switzerland
Lifetime Academic Universum Academy, Lugano, Switzerland
Director of International Poetry Festival- “Poetry and Wine”- Rahovec, Kosovo
Founder of Fund for Cultural Education and Heritage in Kosovo.

Remnants of another aeon

Turquoise ink I save
to write only about love 
and bloodletter of mortgage 
keeping in the box made of
oak tree wood, copper leaves for its lid
and a splash of heavy lacquer above all
Moschus sprinkled on my epitaph of Graphene
light letters inscribed
with green laser states
“herein floats the Soul
of a Light-man – a remnant 
of another eon”.

 …as it was in the beginning

They gave up all definitions
layered fossils beneath the argue-
who’s older hen or the egg
Massive droplets of rain
the soil as dry as talcum
release the petrichor we largely
enjoyed- the one we miss
massively today and more and more
in a search of poetics and truth
the road we passed in vein
if it goes out of selves
than nothing have we ever achieved
The world was not ready yet
to absorb a living human
even up between the heavy clouds
the breath is focused on the Constellation
of the heart. Some thousand nerves
from the brain of the heart
which the human named it Intuition
we laugh upon every definition
and still, none can order
a meal with algorithm
but solely by word
as it was
…in the beginning

This dry day age of mine

They were classifying stones
to decorate the pavement
a mosaic of life
a mosaic for life and beyond
Friends called me to go
swimming in the river
far from home
Father was strict
I dare not to ask him permission
unless I lied to him as I was
going to shop a chain for my pappy
a Yorkshire terrier
he brought from Vojvodina
some days ago
I didn’t know how
to put those days in the memory ampules
to preserve them in a velvet box
all nacre and silver decorated
and satin flushing red inside
smelling the oakmoss and ambergris
and Tonka perfume of my Mom
in this dry day age of mine
smog and skunk and rotten
fruits suffocate and drown
us down to the ravine
all blood and bones
of the past ages



This entry was posted in GR - 9 Print 2021, News, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.