Libra Shqip

Lebit Murtishi Anxiety of art

Lebit Murtishi Ankthi i arte

Lexo ketu

  • That day he woke up early; he woke up as if beaten with wet ropes, as it is said on this side, and had started towards the neighborhood fountain, which was a few minutes away from home …
  • There he had to wash his eyes and confess the dream he had seen the night before …
  • According to a superstition, left over from who knows how long, the water took them with it and sent to the irreversible world the dreams that were not liked.
  • This time, he did not want to take the water he had dreamed of, he did not want to send it to the afterlife, he wanted the opposite …
    … The dream was not sad, nor did it grieve, it was blessed, therefore I wanted this dream to be narrated in the fountain, but with a prayer that it would come true as soon as possible. For unpleasant dreams there was another prayer, the opposite.
  • On the way to the fountain, at the superficial roots of an ancient walnut, he found the head of the neighborhood, who had filled the pipe with bitter saffron tobacco, and smoked, not only the walnut branches that seemed to burn, but the whole neighborhood. .Without approaching well greeted: good morning uncle Q …
  • He spoke to him very briefly because he knew that he did not like talking to young people … he was quite angry, a pretty zamanli. The young people used to say that until they get married, they are ajamis, and after marriage, what happens.
    He was simply so rigid in his convictions that he had no mother son to convince him …
    … It was, so to speak, a living monument of past centuries.
  • The other side, or the white page of this monument, was generosity.
    He had nothing for himself, he served the people of the neighborhood with everything that God had given him.
    For this he was honored and kept in his mouth for good by the inhabitants of that hilly neighborhood …
  • Once, as under the mustache, he replied: good to find! The answer was short and without raising my eyes to see who it is …
  • As for anger, Goni asked once and how did you sleep last night?
    Like the king in thorns – he spoke a little ironically, telling him to leave him alone …
  • It did not last any longer.
    He climbed the hill, where a flower was seen from time to time – a mixed color flag: red, blue, yellow and others …
  • These flowers grow quite naturally, without anyone touching them, except that they are torn off and uprooted, by the donkeys that are brought up and down without a capital all day long …
  • They do not say in vain: donkeys, apart from donkeys are known …
  • The water of the creek was the only source of that neighborhood, which stretched like a paradise painting on both sides of a dry stream.
    The stream came only in the early spring, when it did not work for anyone.
    Rarely did it come in the fall.
  • While in summer, when the children prayed for a drop of rain, through an ancient pagan ritual, the stream was silent as if it were deaf …
  • When it happened to make an exception, after heavy rains, the stones he brought from the mountains, often knocked down the walls of the yards …
  • This was the stream; one who did not know the language of children’s prayers, eager for a drop of rain …
  • He often spilled like a beast from the steep knife hills, and wreaked havoc on everything that came before him.
    A series of obstacles with stone slabs had been erected to alleviate his rage, however, he threw rackets on the slabs like demonic swords, and took with him all the obstacles set by the villagers.
  • In order not to be ungrateful, a single good of it should be mentioned; a good one that leaves the villagers at the door as it draws armies of streams.
    It is the amber sand that remains as a useful trace, between traces of collapse and destruction.
  • This phenomenon can also be taken as an imposed bargain between the stream and the poor villagers …
  • Goni, whispering in a low voice according to the old rule, approached behind him the head of the neighborhood, whose eyes and ears did not escape anything without noticing …
  • I heard you – he said, a good dream to see …
  • What about you, from above here like a nettle! ..
  • With the tone she spoke, she informed him that he did not like her eavesdropping at all …
  • Listen biro! – began the old woman with the most benevolent voice, as far as I know from these works and according to the dream you have seen, the green garden shows your bride, while the black stone in the middle of the garden, is an obstacle that will come before this fate of all …
  • The old woman left without saying anything more.
  • He remained in front of the cross for a while, bringing to mind the judgment of the old woman, who spoke as confidently as if she had the fate of the world in her hands …
  • From the middle of the neighborhood, a group of girls covered with elm leaves had left for Krua, muttering the words of the rain ritual: dordoleci it rains, dordoleci … the other words were not well understood from the hill where he was.
    They, repeating the text of the ritual, entered the courtyards of the houses, where they were rewarded with a handful of flour and sprinkled with a container full of

Related Articles

Back to top button