Pasi lexuam librin "Night" nga Eli Wisel kishim per te bere nje projekt dhe une zgjodha te shkruaja keto tre poezi me poshte.
Autori i librit (cifut - jewish) ka qene ne shume kampe te Hitlerit dhe flet per jeten e tij. Tregon historine se si lane shtepite dhe bashke me familjen i hipen neper vagona treni si bageti. Me vone i mbyllen neper kampe si ashwitz. Mamane dhe motren ia dogjen qe kur vajten ne kamp sepse ishin te dobet per te punuar. Ky me babain punuan per shume vjete me radhe. Ne fund babai i vdes dhe ngelet vetem. U fut ne kamp ne moshen 15-16 vjecare dhe doli 18-19. Libri tregon ngjarje nga me te ndryshmet te kampeve por nuk dua te futem ne hollesira se jane shume depresuese.
Keto jane poezite qe une shkruajta ne klasen e anglishtes te vitit te katert, gjimnaz.
Escaping Spirit
Its now been three years
Thee years without freedom
Three years without God
Three years of slow death
Everyone is silent
Life comes to a pause
Our eyes want to cry
Our spirit wants to escape
Our bodies hungry
Hungry for food
Hungry for blood
Hungry for strength
Our spirit is hungry
Hungry for a family
Hungry for a joke
Hungry for freedom
I am now exhausted
It hurts to talk
My body is abandoned
White light blinds my vision
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Selection eshte procesi i zgjedhjes per njerezit qe jane te afte per pune dhe atyre qe nuk jane dhe qe i dergojne neper furat e djegjes ose dhomat e gazrave helmus.
Ky proces behej jave per jave neper kampe. Njerezit, lakuriq, kalonin perpara nje oficeri gjerman qe vendoste nese kaloni apo jo "selection". Nqs nuk e kalonin i digjnin. Autori i librit tregon sesi njerezit edhe pse skalatina, merrnin energji te vraponin me shpejtesi te madhe para oficereve qe te dukeshin te forte ose qe oficeri te mos kishte kohe tu kopjonte numrin nga kemisha. Disa te tjere ferkonin fytyren me shpejtesi te madhe qe tu skuqeshin faqet. Ja dhe poezi mbi kete proces.
Selection
Selection, a magic word
Selection, eternal life
Selection, a painful death
Selection, struggle for life
Selection, a call from God
Selection, a gate to heaven
Selection, a call from Hitler
Selection, a gate to the flames
Selection, an end to the suffering
Selection, a nightmare cut short
Selection, a hopeless spirit
Selection, eternal sleep
Selection, a bar of soap
Selection, a ration of soup
Selection, a pair of shoes
Selection, a spoon left behind
A body is turned to ash
A spirit is set free
A new life awaits me
A life close to God
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Fjalet "work for liberty = puno per liri" vendoseshin neper kampe si forme shprese per njerezit. Ironia e kesaj eshte se sado te punonin njerezit, snjehere nuk mund te dilnin nga kampet. Ishin te rethuar me tel me gjemba dhe teli mbante me qindra volt korend.
Ja poezia mbi kete shprehje te kampeve "work for liberty"
The rest work for liberty
We left our homes
We left our treasures
We got on the train
The train of death
Red flames in the horizon
New smell in the air
Barbed wire all around us
The terror sets in
Tears of separation
Families torn apart
Last memory of mom
Last memory of dad
Some are shot
More are burnt
Few are electrocuted
The rest work for liberty
The end is now close
Only few have survived
The West sets us free
God has heard our prayers
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