Fehmi Ajvazi SPIRITUS
Fehmi Ajvazi SPIRITUS
- The time of my grace
Night. The day is closed at urn. The bells do not ring. If they do not kill me, I will write this book on your behalf. When you come to this world, learn not to hate others. Besides, never forget that a beautiful day of war is going to bring you to life! God: there is miserable war, there is cruel, barbaric war luft and there is beautiful war – ideal. Is this my destiny…? We made this philosophy of life by turning it into nothing – take it away, and survival. Nature and God did not teach us that. But we overturned their laws…! You will definitely come with my prayers and knock on the Open Gates of Crucified Freedom. And one day you will say to people of all races: I came to this world when there was a bloody wedding in the catacomb of my blood, and a beautiful war – ideal! You will say: I came through the ashes of the old memory. Yes, I will repeat to the end of the world: you came, and now you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Challenge this path, learn this book, and keep the Testament of My Premature and My Time Welcome to the Book of Old Remembrance.
The pharmacy-composed spirit is the only ruler in my closed world in the catacomb. Learn the time of this book, one day…! When you become a man, go to the “City of Storms” and look for your ideal star. In the “Prison of the Sun” start counting the years and backwards: this book starts to be written before the day of your birth. This is the book of old memory written under the shadow of “Rhythms of Chaos”. And never forget: I seek the path that leads to the “Promised Day.” The example of a prostitute in Troy, has cursed holy love! The overthrow began in the courtyard of the “Kingdom of the Don Quixotes”. Freedom, then turned into nothing. Take it off, it has aged us prematurely! Imagine Our Lord: war has turned into splendor, into art, into song, into love…! I swear today and for a thousand years: thus, our Golgotha must have been written in Selishte, all the way to Narona…!
Freedom in bronze. Memory: forgotten formula! Besides the structure of the soul, it is the evidence of this dull time. God, you see us all as in the palm of your hand! Everyone enters this book and bleeds: the victim, the executioner, the demon, the angel…! For, there is no white morning, nor flowers in the eyes of the angel, nor holy smiles and prayers put them in the rhymes of this book. Christmas and Christmas candles are blowing for me… The rain mixed with carbon falls on “Your Holy Cradle”. I shook his hand to understand the warmth of the earth and the taste of my blood. Ani, I will love man to the end of the world…! God, you see this cataclysm. Nana says: save your grace, the share of the future…! Beyond Akeront, the gates are open and we have to get out of there. Must… So be qoftë Our Lord.
Selishte / Autumn of 1997
