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E-TJERA

Edison Ypi: You who ran away

Politiko 2021-08-23 15:03:46

Albania is full of sanctuaries of monasteries, the magic of churches, legends of saints, caves of hermits. You who fled and are not afraid that their curse will follow at the end of the World, you are not Albanian. You are a Turkish idiot.
In Albanian villages, some wise people have chosen to live their modest lives in peace. They plant, reap, impregnate women, raise carpets, pray in the Church or the Mosque. You who fled and despise the meager life of exemplary Albanians, you are surely a Greek great-grandson.
Distinguished scholars live in our provinces to amaze by telling the story in detail. Not as our socio-historians tell mercenary mercenaries sold out, but as it has come word of mouth since antiquity. You who rightly leave do not believe that there are silent scholars in Albania. Because you are a Serbian idiot.
Albania has magical landscapes that have ignited his soul and fanned his heart: Naim, Noli, Fishta, Lasgushi, Kadare. You who flee, where you yourself, tremble and crouch for 24 hours with the nightmare of survival. And I do not know, nor will you ever know, where the soul and the fanatic fall, much less who Are Those who light and burn like a candle.
Albania has such beautiful places: Dantesque reliefs, Shakespearean oaks where witches come out at night, villages with Dostoevsky complications, zebras like the one where Pushkin duel, that when he sees them his eyes fill with tears. In vain I get tired. You who run away, from the Beauty of tears and the tears of Beauty have no idea.
You who have escaped have probably heard, for example, of the pyramid of Cheops which has these and those hidden geometric, mathematical, engineering, stunning connections with positions and angles to the Sun, moon, stars, constellations. You who fled, fled, among other things, also because I do not know that the Church of your village, or the Monastery somewhere around, were not made by fools like you who fled, but engineers, mathematicians, astronomers, painters, among the greatest the world through stunning geometric, historical, artistic calculations, even more, sophisticated than the pyramids of Egypt.
For some years in our villages, they keep goats'. Herds of goats occupy the road crossing transversely. I say to the shepherd: Hey, do not rush, let them go, okay, Ladies first. The flock of goats understand what I say to the shepherd, and pave the way. Your flock and your companions fleeing to the darkness, you have no brain as much as a goat '.
There are some valleys and some plateaus in Albania, where the aroma of apples, pears, plums, grapes, cherries, berries, smells good and makes the most dizzying perfume that no laboratory, no industry can make. You insensitive root with deficient senses that run away, you have no idea about that perfume, where those valleys and those plateaus are.
The aliens who come there from where you flee, scale from the brains of the head for our bio foods. You who run away, make no difference bio and stërbio. You who leave will only be satisfied with the cheapest products of popular supermarkets with meat such as straw, yogurt and glaze, degenerate fruits.
You who leave even without any character defect or any other problem, just because you leave, wherever you go you will be a second-class citizen, a kisser, a hyzmeqar, from whom, for several years in a row, no one will expect anything other than washing dishes and cleaning dumpsters.
You who fled, since you realize quickly how difficult it is to take root, out of anger, wherever you go, do the worst thing on earth, 'curses Albania. Thus you are blacker than the Serb, more cunning than the Greek, more halldup than the Turk, you are an officer boy.
You who fled and wherever you go, with your head here, talk about politics in the language of the Voice of the People. That is, you are a bitch who has to dip her head in the boiling cauldron where she washes the dishes emptied by them to see and use as a lowly being, as a bastard.
You who fled, and wherever you go you shout and shout that we should not wait for Afghans, you are a hard-hearted and soulless man who has no friend in the world.
You who left with the idea to return when Albania has been corrected by those who do not leave, you are a biological scarcity, a slip of Nature, garbage.
You who flee, and from the uncertainty of where you will go and what you will do, connect the flight with gossip, not this government, not that government, you are simply and only filth, inevitable filth, social excrement.
You who fled today, do not doubt that in the Dictatorship you would be nothing but a spy who would spy on those who wanted to flee.
You who fled, say to yourself: Naimi is gone, Noli is gone, Kadare is gone, why shouldn't I go too. Having said that, you have not left Puka, Mirdita, Përmeti, Shkodra, Myzeqeja, etc. You ran away from the brains on your head.