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  1. #41
    Prap e fshehur pas Teje Maska e e panjohura
    Anėtarėsuar
    24-02-2007
    Vendndodhja
    Aty mė gjen, nėn hijen tėnde qė mė le amanet!Nėse tė duket qė kam humb,mė kerko atje ku fryn uragani i kohės,atje do mė gjeshė,duke tė kėrkua Ty!
    Postime
    7,750

    Pėr: Poezi Franceze

    Syte




    Te zes a blu plot gaz e zjarr
    Sy te panumert pane agimin
    Tani po flene atje ne varr
    Po dielli nuk e err shkelqimin.

    Dite dhe nete, sa sy o Zot!
    Shkelqyen mu si xhevahire
    Shendritin yjet jete e mot
    Po syte u krodhen ne erresire.

    Vecse veshtrimin plot magji
    Jo, jo, se humben syte e bukur
    Do jene kthyer kushedi
    Nga bote e shpirtit e padukur.

    Si yjet qe kur perendojne
    Na lene, po ne qiell mbesin
    Keshtu dhe syte vine edhe shkojne
    Po per te vdekur nuk vdesin.

    Te zes a blu, plot gaz e zjarr
    Celur ndaj Drites se vertete
    Syte qe u mbyllen atje ne varr
    Shohin ende, shohin perjete!

    Nga poezia franceze
    Rėndesia e njė personi nuk vlerėsohet nga hapėsira qė zė, por nga boshlleku qė le kur nuk ėshtė mė.

  2. #42
    cherry blossom girl
    Anėtarėsuar
    14-05-2010
    Postime
    6,095

    Pėr: Poezi Franceze

    Citim Postuar mė parė nga Anarol Lexo Postimin
    Shume e bukur. Mund te me thuash si e ka titullin kjo poezi ne frengjisht?
    Le livre de la vie est le livre suprźme
    Qu'on ne peut ni fermer, ni rouvrir ą son choix;
    Le passage attachant ne s'y lit pas deux fois,
    Mais le feuillet fatal se tourne de lui-mźme;
    On voudrait revenir ą la page oł l'on aime,
    Et la page oł l'on meurt est déją sous vos doigts ...


  3. #43
    i/e regjistruar
    Anėtarėsuar
    17-01-2013
    Postime
    16

    Pėr: Poezi Franceze

    I wouldn't want to die (Je voudrais pas crever)

    Before having known
    The black mexican dogs
    Who sleep without dreaming
    The butt-naked monkeys
    Gobbling up tropics
    The silver spiders in
    Webs riddled with bubbles
    I wouldn't want to die
    Not knowing if the moon
    Behind its fake nickel look
    Has a sharper side
    If the sun is cold
    If the four seasons
    Are really only four
    Not having tried
    To wear a dress
    On the boulevards
    Not having peeped
    Through a sewer peephole
    Not having put my dick
    Inside weirdo corners
    I wouldn't want to end
    Without experiencing leprosy
    Or the seven diseases
    One catches over there
    Neither the good nor the bad
    Would cause me some sorrow
    If if if I knew that
    I would get it firsthand
    And there iz also
    Everything I know
    Everything I like
    That I know that I like
    The green bottom of the sea
    Where the seaweeds waltz
    On the rippled sand
    The burnt grass in June
    The crackling earth
    The smell of conifers
    And the kisses of the one
    She's this and she's that
    The belle here she comes
    My bearcub, Ursula
    I wouldn't want to die
    Before having used up
    Her mouth with my mouth
    Her body with my hands
    The rest with my eyes
    I say no more one should
    Remain polite
    I wouldn't want to fade
    Without someone inventing
    Eternal roses
    The two hour day
    The sea at the mountain
    The mountain at the sea
    The end of pain
    Newspapers in color
    All children happy
    And so many other tricks
    That sleep inside the brains
    Of genius engineers
    Of jovial gardeners
    Of concerned socialists
    Of urban urbanists
    And of thoughtful thinkers
    So many things to see
    To see and to hear
    So much time to wait
    Searching in the dark
    And me I see the end
    It swarms and it comes closer
    With its ugly face
    And it opens its arms to me
    Like a cripplety frog
    I wouldn't want to die
    No sir no madam
    Before having tested
    The taste which torments me
    The taste which is the strongest
    I wouldn't want to die
    Before having tasted
    The flavour of death...

    Boris Vian

  4. #44
    i/e regjistruar
    Anėtarėsuar
    25-11-2013
    Vendndodhja
    Fier
    Postime
    12

    Pėr: Poezi Franceze

    E shoh qe jane ne shqip, por une doja te dija titullin.
    Citim Postuar mė parė nga 2043 Lexo Postimin
    Une i kam ne shqip poezite,

  5. #45
    i/e regjistruar
    Anėtarėsuar
    04-04-2006
    Vendndodhja
    Tirone
    Postime
    8,398

    Pėr: Poezi Franceze

    Nje dite u pati thene vdekja
    Do vij t'ju marr aty nga dreka
    Prandaj tek porta e kalase
    Ma ulni uren me derrase

    Me frikacaku nder te tre
    Ua mbathi kembeve rrufe
    Por sa del nga porta e madhe
    E shtiu ne dore nje koshadhe

    I dyti tek nje mik na shkon
    Takim edhe cdo gje haron
    Por vdekja pret nje nate te mire
    Ta shtjere ne dore qe pa gdhire

    Me kryeneci ne mengjes
    Ze vend tek urra krejt serbes
    Dhe pret me dite, me vite pret
    Te veje ora dymbedhjete

    maurice careme
    MORIS CAREME
    Unė jam njeri i thjeshtė.
    Kėnaqem me pak.
    Mė mjafton mė e mira.

Faqja 3 prej 3 FillimFillim 123

Regullat e Postimit

  • Ju nuk mund tė hapni tema tė reja.
  • Ju nuk mund tė postoni nė tema.
  • Ju nuk mund tė bashkėngjitni skedarė.
  • Ju nuk mund tė ndryshoni postimet tuaja.
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