{"id":16349,"date":"2022-06-29T08:50:00","date_gmt":"2022-06-29T08:50:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/rdnews.al\/?p=16349"},"modified":"2022-06-29T08:50:00","modified_gmt":"2022-06-29T08:50:00","slug":"poezite-e-mia-jane-frymemarrje-dhe-une-marr-fryme-per-te-gjetur-fjalet","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/2022\/06\/29\/poezite-e-mia-jane-frymemarrje-dhe-une-marr-fryme-per-te-gjetur-fjalet\/","title":{"rendered":"Poezit\u00eb e mia jan\u00eb frym\u00ebmarrje dhe un\u00eb marr frym\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb gjetur fjal\u00ebt"},"content":{"rendered":"

Patrizia Cavalli rr\u00ebfen<\/strong><\/p>\n

“N\u00ebse d\u00ebshiron tamam ta dish \u2013 thot\u00eb Patrizia Cavalli dhe kjo duket si nj\u00eb k\u00ebrc\u00ebnim \u2013 un\u00eb poezit\u00eb i kam shkruar gjithmon\u00eb: t\u00eb parat i kam b\u00ebr\u00eb p\u00ebr Kim Novak, n\u00eb klas\u00ebn e pest\u00eb, pasi kam par\u00eb \u201cPicnic\u201d\u201d. Kim Novak q\u00eb zbret nga shkall\u00ebt duke rrahur shuplakat sipas koh\u00ebs s\u00eb muzik\u00ebs, bionde e re me fustan t\u00eb kuq, William Holden q\u00eb l\u00eb gruan tjet\u00ebr p\u00ebr t\u00eb k\u00ebrcyer me t\u00eb. \u201cJam dashuruar, kam shkuar n\u00eb sht\u00ebpi dhe i kam th\u00ebn\u00eb n\u00ebn\u00ebs: dua t\u00eb njoh Kim Novak. Ajo m\u00eb ka th\u00ebn\u00eb: po si do t\u2019ia b\u00ebsh? dhe un\u00eb: ah po dhe at\u00ebhere nuk haj m\u00eb. Dhe nuk kam ngr\u00ebn\u00eb p\u00ebr nj\u00eb jav\u00eb\u201d. Qesh dhe thot\u00eb: n\u00ebna e shkret\u00eb, isha nj\u00eb f\u00ebmij\u00eb kaq e trishtuar. \u201cN\u00eb nj\u00eb pik\u00eb t\u00eb caktuar, pas pehrizit, kam shkruar dy poezi, q\u00eb i kam gjetur n\u00eb blloqe t\u00eb vjetra sh\u00ebnimi. Nj\u00ebra titullohet: Sikur t\u00eb vdiste Kim Novak. Ku jan\u00eb fustanet e mia t\u00eb zeza? Ku \u00ebsht\u00eb zija q\u00eb duket nga jasht\u00eb? Nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb? H\u00ebm, nuk b\u00ebn asgj\u00eb. Do t\u00eb kem zi t\u00eb parakohshme n\u00eb zemr\u00ebn time t\u00eb thell\u00eb\u201d.<\/p>\n

T\u00eb flas\u00ebsh me Patrizia Cavalli n\u00ebnkupton t\u00eb braktiesh pas mund\u00ebsis\u00eb s\u00eb tallesh p\u00ebr disa or\u00eb, thuajse t\u00eb keqtrajtuara dhe m\u00eb pas t\u00eb qet\u00ebsuara nga nj\u00eb sekret i zbuluar me z\u00eb shum\u00eb t\u00eb ul\u00ebt, dhe n\u00ebnkupton ta d\u00ebgjosh t\u00eb k\u00ebndoj\u00eb, ta shikosh t\u00eb qet\u00ebsohet dhe m\u00eb pas t\u00eb rikthehet shum\u00eb shpejt mbi tok\u00eb, nj\u00eb centimet\u00ebr nga k\u00ebtu. \u201cN\u00eb realitet, un\u00eb nuk kam b\u00ebr\u00eb gj\u00eb tjet\u00ebr, gjat\u00eb gjith\u00eb jet\u00ebs, p\u00ebrve\u00e7se t\u00eb b\u00ebj nj\u00eb lloj rr\u00ebfimi fiziologjik: lind gjith\u00e7ka nga di\u00e7ka fizike pasi un\u00eb nuk kam shpirt\u201d.<\/p>\n

Je totalisht e pashpirt? \u201cPo, un\u00eb kam vet\u00ebm ndjesit\u00eb dhe fjal\u00ebt\u201d.<\/p>\n

Por kur ke reshtur s\u00eb dashuruari Kim Novak i ke vazhduar poezit\u00eb? \u201cP\u00ebr nj\u00eb periudh\u00eb kam mendur se t\u00eb shkruarit poezi do t\u00eb donte t\u00eb ndryshoje paksa fjal\u00ebt, gjuh\u00ebn, t\u00eb shpik\u00ebsh dhe t\u00eb shkruash gj\u00ebra q\u00eb nuk donin t\u00eb thonin asgj\u00eb, absolutisht asgj\u00eb\u201d.<\/p>\n

M\u00eb reciton nj\u00eb poezi tjet\u00ebr, t\u00eb p\u00ebrb\u00ebr\u00eb nga fjal\u00eb t\u00eb gjymtuara dhe t\u00eb mistershme dhe n\u00eb goj\u00ebn tuj gjith\u00e7ka b\u00ebhet hipnotike, m\u00eb duket se i kuptoj vargjet q\u00eb n\u00eb realitet nuk ekzistojn\u00eb dhe ju pyes se \u00e7far\u00eb mendonin prind\u00ebrit, nga fundi i viteve \u201950 n\u00eb Todi, t\u00eb asaj vajze melankolike q\u00eb shkruante poezi t\u00eb pakuptueshme. \u201cQen\u00eb gj\u00ebra t\u00eb mia, as i kuptonin, isha nj\u00eb vajz\u00eb e trishtuar dhe e \u00e7mendur: nuk ekziston nj\u00eb foto e imja si f\u00ebmij\u00eb ku qeshja. Rreth 14 vje\u00e7\u00ebve kam rifilluar t\u00eb shkruaj poezi shum\u00eb t\u00eb karikuara, shum\u00eb ekspresioniste, thuajse t\u00eb sh\u00ebmtuara, t\u00eb gjitha false dhe kam vazhduar gjithmon\u00eb, me iden\u00eb se ambicia ime e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb do t\u00eb kishte qen\u00eb t\u00eb shkruaja proz\u00ebn, por kam qen\u00eb gjithmon\u00eb tejet cingune, kam pasur gjithmon\u00eb nevoj\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb nj\u00eb k\u00ebnaq\u00ebsi t\u00eb menj\u00ebhershme. Pastaj kam njohur Elsa Morante dhe ka ndryshuar gjith\u00e7ka\u201d.<\/p>\n

Elsa Morante ka qen\u00eb nj\u00eb mike e madhe e Patrizia Cavalli, nj\u00eb muz\u00eb, nj\u00eb modele, \u201cajo m\u00eb ka nxjerr\u00eb jast\u00eb trishtimit tim dhe m\u00eb ka b\u00ebr\u00eb t\u00eb jem poete\u201d. \u201cIshte viti 1969, studioka Filozofi n\u00eb Rom\u00eb, e mbajtur nga prind\u00ebrit e mi, kthehesha gjithmon\u00eb n\u00eb Todi pas 15 dit\u00ebsh, pasi i p\u00ebrfundoja parat\u00eb e rrog\u00ebs shum\u00eb shpejt: shkoja gjithmon\u00eb me taksi, blija violeta t\u00eb ngjyrosura. Isha shum\u00eb e trishtuar, nuk njihja ask\u00ebnd p\u00ebrve\u00e7 atij grupi fro\u00e7osh amerikane shum\u00eb t\u00eb sofistikuar, pasi nj\u00eb miku im nga Todi ishte i fejuar me nj\u00ebrin prej tyre. Dilja me ta mbr\u00ebmjeve, gruaja e vetme nuk dija as anglisht, pyesja: ku jan\u00eb lezbiket? E mundur q\u00eb nuk ka asnj\u00eb grua? Dhe ata m\u00eb thonin se isha shum\u00eb funny<\/em>, se do t\u00eb kisha pasur kaq sukses n\u00eb New York, m\u00eb gjenin qesharake, nuk e di pse. Un\u00eb isha e d\u00ebshp\u00ebruar\u201d.<\/p>\n

Un\u00eb kam frik\u00eb se Patrizia Cavalli m\u00ebrzitet, kam frik\u00eb se mos thot\u00eb di\u00e7ka q\u00eb e b\u00ebn t\u00eb ndalet, k\u00ebshtu q\u00eb un\u00eb hesht. \u201cNj\u00eb dit\u00eb donin t\u00eb m\u00eb takonin me Elsa Morante, por kam arritur me vones\u00eb: e kam takuar tek porta teksa po largohej dhe me nj\u00eb pamje pak p\u00ebr\u00e7muese m\u00eb tha: telefonom\u00eb po deshe. K\u00ebshtu kam b\u00ebr\u00eb. Ajo m\u00eb la takim p\u00ebr t\u00eb darkuar bashk\u00eb dhe menj\u00ebher\u00eb jemi z\u00ebn\u00eb: un\u00eb kisha sigurin\u00eb se i ngjaja, pasi kisha shkruar \u201cIl mondo salvato dai ragazzini\u201d, por ajo tashm\u00eb q\u00ebndronte nga ana tjet\u00ebr, nd\u00ebrsa un\u00eb isha konformistja ende e ngecur tek 68. Gjith\u00ebsesi, jeta ime ka filluar nga aty. Nga ai moment ka ndryshuar gjith\u00e7ka, nga k\u00ebshtu n\u00eb k\u00ebshtu\u201d.<\/p>\n

Patrizia Cavalli b\u00ebn gjestin me p\u00ebll\u00ebmb\u00ebn e dor\u00ebs, e ulur n\u00eb nj\u00eb divan me riga t\u00eb asaj sht\u00ebpie t\u00eb vjet\u00ebr shum\u00eb t\u00eb bukur n\u00eb Campo de\u2019 Fiori, ku tashm\u00eb 40 vite m\u00eb par\u00eb jetonte me qira si studente, n\u00eb nj\u00eb dhom\u00eb af\u00ebr me hyrjen. \u201cMe Elsa shkonim t\u00eb hanim bashk\u00eb p\u00ebr \u00e7do dit\u00eb, ajo ishte 35 vjet m\u00eb e madhe nga un\u00eb, por vihej gjithmon\u00eb si e barabart\u00eb. Kam njohur t\u00eb gjith\u00eb miqt\u00eb e mi m\u00eb t\u00eb dashur fal\u00eb saj, miqt\u00eb e jet\u00ebs: Carlo Cecchi, Angela Ippolito, Giorgio Agamben, Ginevra Bompiani. Ruhesha shum\u00eb t\u2019u thoja se shkruaja poezi, un\u00eb studioja Filozofi dhe m\u00eb dukej e mjaftueshme, nuk mendoja se duhej ta justifikoja ekzistenc\u00ebn time me gj\u00ebra t\u00eb tjera: e dija sesa ishte e v\u00ebshtir\u00eb ishte Elsa dhe sa do t\u00eb ishte e gatshme ndaj p\u00ebrbuzjes dhe ostracizmit. Ajo nuk do t\u00eb g\u00ebnjente kurr\u00eb, sikur t\u2019i kisha treguar poezit\u00eb e mia t\u00eb sh\u00ebmtuara do t\u00eb thoshte: Nuk t\u00eb vjen turp? Por sipas teje k\u00ebto jan\u00eb poezi? Dhe un\u00eb m\u00eb shum\u00eb se \u00e7do gj\u00eb mb\u00ebshtetesha tek miq\u00ebsia jote\u201d.<\/p>\n

Shkonim shpesh n\u00eb Piazza Navona dhe darkonim tek Campana, me miq ose t\u00eb vetme. \u201cIsha e shp\u00ebrblyer nga ajo q\u00eb kisha: p\u00ebr mua ajo q\u00eb vlente ishte miq\u00ebsia dhe qen\u00eb njer\u00ebzit, nuk e kisha zjarrin e artit q\u00eb m\u00eb digjte dhe as ambicien, por jo sepse isha e thjesht\u00eb: isha mendjemadhe, por ishte nj\u00eb mendjemadh\u00ebsi e vetes time, nj\u00eb krenari e qenies time\u201d.<\/p>\n

Nuk mund t\u00eb zgjaste p\u00ebrgjithmon\u00eb. \u201cPas disa vitesh frekuentime thuajse t\u00eb p\u00ebrditshme, duke shkruar n\u00eb Piazza Navona, Elsa u ndal papritmas dhe me pamjen m\u00eb k\u00ebrc\u00ebnuese se kurr\u00eb m\u00eb shikon dhe m\u00eb thot\u00eb: Po ti \u00e7far\u00eb b\u00ebn? At\u00ebhere nuk e di sesi m\u00eb erdhu ajo ide e pamatur dhe dinake q\u00eb t\u2019i thoja, duke e ditur se p\u00ebr t\u00eb poezia ishte maksimumi: shkruaj poezi. Aty filloi makthi. M\u00eb shikoi dhe m\u00eb tha: Ah po? H\u00ebm, mi lexo, jo sepse m\u00eb interesojn\u00eb nga nj\u00eb pik\u00ebpamje letrare, por vet\u00eb t\u00eb shikon sesi je b\u00ebr\u00eb\u201d. \u201cKur Elsa m\u00eb tha: Por ti \u00e7far\u00eb b\u00ebn?, p\u00ebr mua ka filluar ferri. I jam p\u00ebrgjigjur: shkruaj poezi dhe jam zhdukur\u201d.<\/p>\n

Patrizia Cavalli arrin t\u00eb transformoj\u00eb kujtimet n\u00eb nj\u00eb teat\u00ebr, shikon vetull\u00ebn e Elsa Morante q\u00eb ngrihet, terrorin n\u00eb syt\u00eb e Patrizia 20 vje\u00e7are. \u201cM\u00eb i keqi i k\u00ebrc\u00ebnimeve: p\u00ebr mua ka qen\u00eb ferri. Kam filluar ta shmang. Nuk i shkoja m\u00eb p\u00ebr dark\u00eb. Nuk gjendesha, sajoja nj\u00ebmij\u00eb ar\u00ebsyetime, pastaj shkoja p\u00ebr dark\u00eb dhe ajo menj\u00ebher\u00eb: Por k\u00ebto poezit\u00eb? Dhe un\u00eb: po i rikopjoj. \u00c7do her\u00eb: Po k\u00ebt\u00eb poezit\u00eb? Dhe un\u00eb gjithmon\u00eb: po i rikopjoj. Dhe ajo: A i rikopjove dreqin! Por un\u00eb nuk po i rikopjoj, po i rishkruaj! Sepse nuk isha budallaqe dhe e kisha kuptuar se ajo q\u00eb kisha shkruar ishte e tmerrshme, ishte sa m\u00eb pak mund t\u2019i p\u00eblqente Elsa\u201d.<\/p>\n

K\u00ebshtu keni shkruar poezi t\u00eb reja vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr t\u00eb? \u201cE dija se ajo nuk mund t\u00eb mashtrohej, k\u00ebshtu q\u00eb kam b\u00ebr\u00eb nj\u00eb ushtrim shpirt\u00ebror: kam njohur dhe kam arritur at\u00eb q\u00eb duhej t\u00eb ishte nga nj\u00ebra an\u00eb e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb dhe nga ana tjet\u00ebr duhej t\u00eb dakord\u00ebsohesha me at\u00eb q\u00eb Elsa do t\u00eb njohte si autentike. K\u00ebshtu q\u00eb kam b\u00ebr\u00eb nj\u00eb ushtrim midis g\u00ebnjeshtr\u00ebs dhe s\u00eb v\u00ebrtet\u00ebs. Pas 6 muajsh rr\u00ebshqitjeje kam shkruar n\u00eb restorant me njo dosje me 30 poezi, t\u00eb gjitha t\u00eb shkurt\u00ebra, pastaj jam kthyer n\u00eb sht\u00ebpi dhe pas gjysm\u00eb ore kam marr\u00eb nj\u00eb telefonat\u00eb: \u201cPatrizia, jam e lumtur: je nj\u00eb poete\u201d. Kam provuar nj\u00eb lumturi t\u00eb till\u00eb, edhe pse nuk kishte r\u00ebnd\u00ebsi aspak se isha poete. Por isha \u00e7liruar, dhe k\u00ebshtu q\u00eb isha mirpritur: p\u00ebr mua ai qe nj\u00eb leht\u00ebsim i till\u00eb q\u00eb m\u00eb pas gjith\u00e7ka tjet\u00ebr, ajo q\u00eb ka ndodhur m\u00eb pas, m\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb dukur gj\u00ebja m\u00eb e natyrshme e bot\u00ebs. Kishte r\u00ebnd\u00ebsi p\u00ebr mua t\u00eb isha m\u00eb s\u00eb fundi e sigurt\u00eb: nuk mund t\u00eb p\u00ebrzihesha m\u00eb sepse isha poete. M\u00eb jepte pamje t\u00eb tmerrshme\u201d.<\/p>\n

Ato poezi jan\u00eb botuar n\u00eb 1974 nga Einaudi, e para e shat\u00eb p\u00ebrmbledhjeve, dhe i kushtohen Elsa. \u201cKur m\u00eb pas ky lib\u00ebrth me poezi ka dal\u00eb, mua nuk m\u00eb interesonte shum\u00eb. Kam pasur gjithmon\u00eb nj\u00eb an\u00eb kalkuluese paksa cinike, nuk kam qen\u00eb kurr\u00eb asnj\u00ebhere e pafajshme. Nuk e vrisja mendjen p\u00ebr t\u00eb tjer\u00ebt, doja vet\u00ebm t\u00eb isha e pranuar dhe dashuruar nga Elsa, q\u00eb p\u00ebr mua ishte maksimumi q\u00eb mund t\u00eb ishte. Ajo e ka gjetur titullin, un\u00eb ndodhesha n\u00eb New York, ajo m\u00eb ka telefonuar dhe m\u00eb ka th\u00ebn\u00eb: jam k\u00ebtu p\u00ebr t\u00eb korrigjuar bocat e historis\u00eb, kam par\u00eb librin t\u00ebnd dhe mendoj se duhet t\u00eb titullohet: Poezit\u00eb e mia nuk do ta ndryshojn\u00eb bot\u00ebn, t\u00eb p\u00eblqen? Dhe i jam p\u00ebrgjigjur:shkon shum\u00eb mir\u00eb, por do t\u2019i kisha th\u00ebn\u00eb p\u00ebr \u00e7far\u00ebdolloj titulli\u201d.<\/p>\n

I them Patrizia Cavalli se ai titull \u00ebsht\u00eb i Elsa, n\u00eb rregull, por \u00ebsht\u00eb vargu i nj\u00eb poezie t\u00eb Patrizia Cavalli.<\/p>\n

Dikush m\u00eb ka th\u00ebn\u00eb
\nse sigurisht poezit\u00eb e mia
\nnuk do ta ndryshojn\u00eb bot\u00ebn.
\nUn\u00eb i p\u00ebrgjigjem se sigurisht q\u00eb po
\npoezit\u00eb e mia
\nnuk do ta ndryshojn\u00eb bot\u00ebn.<\/p>\n

\u201cPatjet\u00ebr, patjet\u00ebr \u2013 thot\u00eb Patrizia Cavalli \u2013 ka qen\u00eb vet\u00eb Elsa q\u00eb m\u00eb ka th\u00ebn\u00eb: shiko, mos beso se poezit\u00eb e tua do t\u00eb ndryshojn\u00eb bot\u00ebn. Sepse ajo ishte k\u00ebshtu: nga nj\u00ebra an\u00eb t\u00eb ekzaltonte, nga ana tjet\u00ebr t\u00eb thoshte: mos u fry. M\u00eb kujtohet se nj\u00eb her\u00eb kam shkuar n\u00eb restorant me nj\u00eb panama, besoja se kisha kushedi se \u00e7far\u00eb n\u00eb kok\u00eb, erdhi ajo dhe m\u00eb thot\u00eb: ou, kjo kapele, n\u00eb koh\u00ebrat e mia i vishnin llogaritar\u00ebt. Shum\u00eb vanitoze si\u00e7 isha, kam filluar t\u00eb b\u00ebj muza t\u00eb mbinatyrshme. Rrinim me miq t\u00eb tjer\u00eb, Carlo Cecchi, skenografin Sergio Tramonti dhe Elsa thot\u00eb: \u201cShikojeni k\u00ebt\u00eb kretinen: sapo i kam th\u00ebn\u00eb se ka lindur nj\u00eb poete dhe tani m\u00eb b\u00ebn loj\u00ebra p\u00ebr nj\u00eb kapele\u201d. Por ajo n\u00eb realitet p\u00ebr k\u00ebt\u00eb ishte shum\u00eb e lumtur, p\u00ebr t\u00eb q\u00eb b\u00ebn loj\u00eb p\u00ebr nj\u00eb kapele ka di\u00e7ka m\u00eb t\u00eb mir\u00eb se nj\u00ebrit t\u00eb nj\u00ebr\u00ebs q\u00eb i p\u00eblqejn\u00eb poezit\u00eb, \u00ebsht\u00eb v\u00ebrtet nj\u00eb poete. Por problemi im \u00ebsht\u00eb cingunll\u00ebku dhe mburravec\u00ebria: mund t\u00eb them se kam punuar, por pa kuptuar kurr\u00eb, kam botuar pak, i kam sirtar\u00ebt plot me fije jetime\u201d.<\/p>\n

M\u00eb duket se ky \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb ves, nj\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u00eb denigruar dhe t\u00eb mos merresh seriozisht, n\u00eb nj\u00eb jet\u00eb t\u00eb karakterizuar gjithmon\u00eb nga forca ekspresive, qoft\u00eb Patrizia Cavalli q\u00eb k\u00ebndon nj\u00eb k\u00ebng\u00eb, lexon nj\u00eb poezi t\u00eb saj, reciton p\u00ebrmend\u00ebsh Ferrin e Dantes, p\u00ebrkthen Shakespeare p\u00ebr teatrin. \u201cKur lexoj shkrimtar\u00eb q\u00eb gjith\u00eb dit\u00ebt ulen n\u00eb tavolin\u00eb p\u00ebr or\u00eb t\u00eb t\u00ebra, di\u00e7ka ndodh, pik\u00ebrisht ua kam zili: un\u00eb kam qen\u00eb e aft\u00eb t\u00eb q\u00ebndroj p\u00ebr muaj pa e shkruar asnj\u00eb fjal\u00eb t\u00eb vetme apo pa e kuptuar se e kam b\u00ebr\u00eb\u201d.<\/p>\n

As p\u00ebr nj\u00eb nevoj\u00eb ekonomike?, i\u00a0 them duke par\u00eb p\u00ebrreth, duke admiruar llampadar\u00ebt q\u00eb duken t\u00eb kuqe, kuadrot dhe objektet e bukura. Patrizia Cavalli qesh: \u201cPo pse, me poezit\u00eb fiton? Un\u00eb kam shitur nj\u00eb num\u00ebr t\u00eb konsideruesh\u00ebm librash, duke marr\u00eb n\u00eb konsiderat\u00eb q\u00eb jan\u00eb poezi, por jo aq sa t\u00eb b\u00ebhesh pasanike. Sigurisht, do t\u00eb ishte e bukur t\u00eb ishe e pasur dhe tani m\u00eb ka ardhur mania q\u00eb t\u00eb paguhem. Tani kam fituar \u00c7mimin Feltrinelli dhe jam shum\u00eb e lumtur, ama un\u00eb kam fituar me poezit\u00eb, kam b\u00ebr\u00eb gjith\u00e7ka tjet\u00ebr\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u00c7far\u00eb ke b\u00ebr\u00eb? \u201cP\u00ebr nj\u00eb periudh\u00eb kam b\u00ebr\u00eb treg\u00ebtaren e artit, sidomos n\u00eb vitet \u201980 ishte shum\u00eb e leht\u00eb. Dikush kishte nj\u00eb kuad\u00ebr apo nj\u00eb objekt p\u00ebr t\u00eb shitur, un\u00eb sh\u00ebrbeja si nd\u00ebrmjet\u00ebs me bler\u00ebsin dhe merrja p\u00ebrqindjen, n\u00eb 2 minuta fitoja edhe shum\u00eb para. Kam b\u00ebr\u00eb transaksione me nj\u00eb antikuar t\u00eb madh nga Torino q\u00eb n\u00eb nj\u00eb her\u00eb t\u00eb vetme ka shitur kuadro p\u00ebr 10 miliard lireta. Respektivisht parave, me parat\u00eb kam qen\u00eb me fat: fat i past\u00ebr pa lodhje. Pastaj m\u00eb kan\u00eb ardhur skrupujt dhe nuk kam b\u00ebr\u00eb m\u00eb asnj\u00eb liret\u00eb. Duhet t\u00eb kesh pafaj\u00ebsin\u00eb e b\u00ebrjes s\u00eb krimit p\u00ebr t\u00eb fituar dhe p\u00ebr 5 vite jam mbajtur nga nj\u00eb fondacion amerikan i nj\u00eb mikeje time, shum\u00eb simpatike dhe shum\u00eb ekstravagante. Duhej t\u00eb shkruaja disa rreshta t\u00eb projektit dhe m\u00eb vinin 40000, 50000, 30000 dollar\u00eb. Pastaj jam b\u00ebr\u00eb lojtare pokeri dhe k\u00ebtu ka filluar shkat\u00ebrrimi. Poker i zbuluar. Fillimisht fitoja, isha me shum\u00eb fat, i masakroja t\u00eb gjith\u00eb piktor\u00ebt e San Lorenzo, qen\u00eb terrorizuar prej meje, pastaj jam shkat\u00ebrruar \u2013 thot\u00eb Patrizia duke ulur z\u00ebrin, por e ngrohur nga habia ime \u2013 dhe e kam l\u00ebn\u00eb. Ja, ky \u00ebsht\u00eb dimensioni im ekonomik, i gjithi i besuar fatit. Luaja deri n\u00eb 7 t\u00eb m\u00ebngjesit, pija miliarda cigare, kam shkat\u00ebrruar sh\u00ebndetin: n\u00eb rast se mendoj p\u00ebr s\u00ebmundjen time tani, nuk ka qen\u00eb nj\u00eb shaka\u201d.<\/p>\n

Patrizia prek kok\u00ebn, \u00ebsht\u00eb pa paruke pasi b\u00ebn nxeht\u00eb, ajri i kondicionuar mbahet i ul\u00ebt pas ngjall bezdi, her\u00ebpashere Patrizia shuhet, pastaj rindizet, ankohet me k\u00ebt\u00eb sht\u00ebpi me nj\u00eb banj\u00eb n\u00eb maj\u00ebn e nj\u00eb shkalle, m\u00eb pyet sesi mund t\u00eb q\u00ebndroj e ulur n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb divan q\u00eb n\u00eb realitet \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb dyshek, \u201cme nj\u00eb diskomoditet t\u00eb mbinatyrsh\u00ebm\u201d, dhe m\u00eb shpjegon se n\u00eb kafe duhet t\u00eb hedh mjaltin e hekilrizos. \u201cM\u00eb kan\u00eb konstatuar kancer n\u00eb 2015 \u2013 rr\u00ebfen ajo \u2013 por isha e s\u00ebmur\u00eb m\u00eb par\u00eb dhe ajo q\u00eb nuk m\u00eb shkon tej \u00ebsht\u00eb se ka nj\u00eb p\u00ebrgjegj\u00ebs t\u00eb gjendjes time: mjeku im, e urrej. Nuk e ka kuptuar kancerin dhe \u00ebsht\u00eb radiolog. Un\u00eb duke qen\u00eb hipokondriake dhe tymos\u00ebse i b\u00ebja radiografit\u00eb \u00e7do vit, nuk kam b\u00ebr\u00eb gj\u00eb tjet\u00ebr n\u00eb jet\u00ebn time ve\u00e7 b\u00ebrjes s\u00eb kontrolleve, e kuptoni befasin\u00eb? Nga s\u00ebmundja ime ka d\u00ebshmi qysh n\u00eb 2011, por ai nuk i kishte par\u00eb analizat. Sikur kjo gj\u00eb t\u00eb ishte par\u00eb kur duhej t\u00eb ishte par\u00eb, sigurisht q\u00eb nuk do t\u00eb isha n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb gjendje\u201d.<\/p>\n

Patrizia m\u00eb thot\u00eb vazhdimisht: nuk e v\u00ebren q\u00eb jam lakonike? Dhe ndoshta m\u00eb tall. Thot\u00eb se kurat e kan\u00eb sulmuar kujtes\u00ebn, i duket sikur ka kartone n\u00eb kok\u00eb, \u201cjam b\u00ebr\u00eb edhe e rregullt, nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb normale, apo jo? K\u00ebrkoj ta p\u00ebrdor k\u00ebt\u00eb s\u00ebmundje n\u00eb avantazhin tim, po rikopjoj gjith\u00e7ka kam shkruar me dorl, edhe gj\u00ebra me par\u00ebnd\u00ebsi absolute, thuajse si nj\u00eb ushtrim makine t\u00eb prishur. Matem me gj\u00ebrat e mia qesharake, paplot\u00ebsit\u00eb, me at\u00eb q\u00eb jam, pasi ajo q\u00eb kam shkruar \u00ebsht\u00eb edhe ajo q\u00eb jam\u201d.<\/p>\n

Ti ke frik\u00eb? \u201cKur mendoj shum\u00eb mir\u00eb, po, kam frik\u00eb, pastaj shtirem sikur nuk ka ndodhur asgj\u00eb, pasi e di se nuk ia vlen t\u00eb g\u00ebzohesh t\u00eb jetosh n\u00eb terror\u201d.<\/p>\n

Ju them: jeni e famshme edhe p\u00ebr dashurin\u00eb p\u00ebr objektet. \u201cAh po, jam e famshme? Nuk e dija\u201d, thot\u00eb me lig\u00ebsi. \u201cUn\u00eb jam nj\u00eb quality queen<\/em>, un\u00eb i dua objektet, faktikisht mendoj se p\u00ebr vdekjen time thuajse thuajse m\u00eb vjen keq m\u00eb shum\u00eb p\u00ebr objektet sesa p\u00ebr njer\u00ebzit. Syt\u00eb e mi nuk do t\u00eb vendosen m\u00eb mbi at\u00eb kolltuk ku \u00ebsht\u00eb ajo stof\u00eb q\u00eb e shoh ah sa \u00ebsht\u00eb e bukur. As m\u00eb mungon arti, kuadrot, por pik\u00ebrisht bukuria e objekteve, nj\u00eb vazo e shoh dhe them: si ia kam b\u00ebr\u00eb t\u00eb blej nj\u00eb gj\u00eb kaq t\u00eb bukur. Opus incertum<\/em> i kuzhin\u00ebs, i p\u00ebrb\u00ebr\u00eb nga cop\u00ebra mermeri t\u00eb lasht\u00eb dhe qeramikash i kam b\u00ebr\u00eb un\u00eb, \u00ebsht\u00eb kryevepra ime: takimi i synimit dhe i rastit \u00ebsht\u00eb pik\u00ebrisht nj\u00eb paradigm\u00eb e jet\u00ebs time edhe poetike. Di\u00e7ka q\u00eb duhet t\u00eb kapet me nj\u00eb tjet\u00ebr, por pa prepotenc\u00eb: duhet t\u00eb d\u00ebgjosh, edhe n\u00eb m\u00ebnyr\u00eb pasive, forc\u00ebn e objektit n\u00eb vet\u00ebvete. Shpesh poezit\u00eb jan\u00eb nj\u00eb form\u00eb opus incertum<\/em>, nj\u00eb lloj d\u00ebgjimi i dobish\u00ebm, nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb thjesht vullneti p\u00ebr t\u2019i krijuar\u201d.<\/p>\n

Pra jan\u00eb poezit\u00eb q\u00eb t\u00eb posedojn\u00eb? \u201cPoezit\u00eb e mia jan\u00eb t\u00eb gjitha frym\u00ebmarrje afatgjata, frym\u00ebmarrje q\u00eb mendojn\u00eb. N\u00eb nj\u00eb far\u00eb kuptimi po, jam e poseduar, nd\u00ebrsa shkruaj ka nj\u00eb koh\u00eb ku nuk mendoj. Kur kisha aureolat, ato dhimbje koke t\u00eb m\u00ebdha, thuajse prelude krizash epileptike, si\u00e7 i p\u00ebrshkruan Dostoevskij, me nj\u00eb ndryshim t\u00eb perceptimit t\u00eb ndjenjave, bija n\u00eb nj\u00eb lloj vizionariteti, duke q\u00ebndruar shum\u00eb keq prapa. Fillimisht nj\u00eb lumturi e pap\u00ebrmbajtshme, di\u00e7ka q\u00eb t\u00eb ngre n\u00eb k\u00ebmb\u00eb, ku ndjen universin, kontinentet, f\u00ebmij\u00ebrin\u00eb dhe papritmas BOM, sikur t\u00eb vinte nj\u00eb goditje n\u00eb kok\u00eb dhe kjo form\u00eb estatike transformohet n\u00eb dhimbje, dhimbje, dhimbje. Ishte nj\u00eb p\u00ebrq\u00ebndrim q\u00eb m\u00eb leht\u00ebsonte, kam b\u00ebr\u00eb 45000 elektrocefalograma, por ndoshta pa e ditur isha pak e \u00e7mendur. Nuk i kam m\u00eb, aureolat. Do t\u00eb ishte nj\u00eb e mir\u00eb apo nj\u00eb e keqe? Duke perifrazuar Sandro Penna: problemi i kok\u00ebs merr t\u00eb gjith\u00eb jet\u00ebn time, do t\u00eb jet\u00eb nj\u00eb e mir\u00eb apo nj\u00eb e keqe pyes veten n\u00eb \u00e7do dalje\u201d.<\/p>\n

Tani do t\u00eb m\u00eb b\u00ebsh t\u00eb besoj se ishe e \u00e7mendur dhe nuk je m\u00eb? \u201cForse non lo ero, perch\u00e9 ho sempre ragionato. Nga ana tjet\u00ebr baza fiziologjike e poezive t\u00eb mia \u00ebsht\u00eb themelore. Un\u00eb nuk jam frym\u00ebzuar kurr\u00eb nga nj\u00eb gj\u00eb abstrakte. Nuk m\u00eb frym\u00ebzon nj\u00eb ar\u00ebsyetim, nj\u00eb mendim, por m\u00eb frym\u00ebzon nj\u00eb form\u00eb perceptimi fizik e tingullit t\u00eb fjal\u00ebve dhe e ndjesis\u00eb q\u00eb i shoq\u00ebron k\u00ebto fjal\u00eb, si mish\u00ebrohen. Nuk lind kurr\u00eb nj\u00eb poezi nga nj\u00eb ar\u00ebsyetim, edhe pse poezit\u00eb e mia ar\u00ebsyetojn\u00eb shum\u00eb. Lindja vjen nga nj\u00eb stimul i fort\u00eb psikik, nervoz, thuajse material, dhe nga k\u00ebtu l\u00ebviz gjuha dhe shkon fizikisht atje ku \u00e7ohet. Ky \u00ebsht\u00eb frym\u00ebzim. Jo t\u00eb gjith\u00eb kan\u00eb t\u00eb nj\u00ebjt\u00ebn burim, un\u00eb kam k\u00ebt\u00eb dhe nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb abstrakte: \u00ebsht\u00eb fizike, jan\u00eb njer\u00ebzit, dashuria, urrejtja, p\u00ebr\u00e7mimi, loja, sht\u00ebpia ime. Pastaj, fal\u00eb gjuh\u00ebs, frym\u00ebzimi merr nj\u00eb trup, nj\u00eb d\u00ebshmi\u201d.<\/p>\n

Gjuha jote \u00ebsht\u00eb shum\u00eb e past\u00ebr, sikur t\u00eb arrish t\u2019i rijap\u00ebsh nj\u00eb pafaj\u00ebsi dhe nj\u00eb qart\u00ebsi fjal\u00ebve. \u201cP\u00ebr mua fjal\u00ebt jan\u00eb t\u00eb gjitha t\u00eb bukura, t\u00eb gjitha. N\u00ebse arrijn\u00eb t\u00eb ekzistojn\u00eb dhe t\u00eb vibrojn\u00eb, gjuha \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb gj\u00eb e mrekullueshme, nj\u00eb mrekulli e njer\u00ebzores, \u00ebsht\u00eb gjith\u00e7ka shum\u00eb e bukur n\u00ebse arrihet t\u00eb q\u00ebndrohet n\u00eb pik\u00ebn ku fjala disponohet n\u00eb nj\u00eb trup t\u00eb qart\u00eb, t\u00eb nevojsh\u00ebm dhe t\u00eb \u00e7uditsh\u00ebm. Nuk ka fjal\u00eb t\u00eb sh\u00ebmtuara dhe nuk ekzistojn\u00eb sinonime. Fjala \u00ebsht\u00eb kjo. \u00cbsht\u00eb nj\u00eb ide qesharake se ekzistojn\u00eb sinonimet. Fjal\u00ebt vet\u00ebm mund t\u00eb ngjajn\u00eb pjes\u00ebrisht. \u00c7do fjal\u00eb ka tiparet e saj, kur e ke th\u00ebn\u00eb fjal\u00ebn q\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb pik\u00ebrisht ajo q\u00eb ti di, e d\u00ebgjon\u201d. \u00cbsht\u00eb e kund\u00ebrta e letraritetit: \u00ebsht\u00eb nd\u00ebrtimi i natrshm\u00ebris\u00eb, por nd\u00ebrtimi tek poezit\u00eb e Patrizia Cavalli nuk ndjehet kurr\u00eb: \u201cB\u00ebn t\u00eb duket sikur gjith\u00e7ka duhet t\u00eb jet\u00eb k\u00ebshtu dhe se p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb q\u00eb nj\u00eb ka hapur goj\u00eb i ka dal\u00eb kjo frym\u00eb. Nganj\u00ebher\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb pik\u00ebrisht k\u00ebshtu dhe \u00ebsht\u00eb sikur nj\u00eb falje q\u00eb pik\u00ebrisht ti e dhuron. Her\u00eb t\u00eb tjera jo, por \u00ebsht\u00eb rezultati q\u00eb ka r\u00ebnd\u00ebsi. D\u00ebgjoje sa i bukur \u00ebsht\u00eb ky distik:<\/p>\n

Mendoj se ndoshta \u00ebsht\u00eb forc\u00eb q\u00eb t\u00eb mendoj<\/p>\n

Do t\u00eb mund t\u00eb harroj dashuria ime.<\/p>\n

D\u00ebgjo se \u00e7far\u00eb mund t\u00eb b\u00ebj\u00eb poezia: shkon drejt ajrit. \u00c7far\u00eb ka m\u00eb t\u00eb bukur se fjal\u00ebt, se gjuha?\u201d.<\/p>\n

\u00cbsht\u00eb si nj\u00eb histori dashurie, \u00ebsht\u00eb si loja e dashuris\u00eb. \u201c\u00cbsht\u00eb pik\u00ebrisht dashuria q\u00eb m\u00eb l\u00ebviz dhe ndoshta nuk \u00ebsht\u00eb v\u00ebrteta e n\u00ebnkuptuar n\u00eb nj\u00eb kuptim letrar, por ka gjithmon\u00eb nj\u00eb form\u00eb estatike adhurimi, p\u00ebr\u00e7mimi apo urrejtjeje. Dashuria shpirt\u00ebrore nuk e di se \u00e7far\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb, m\u00eb zgjat gjysm\u00eb dite. Ose jam affected<\/em>, e impresionuar, ose nuk e di se \u00e7far\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb dashuria\u201d.<\/p>\n

Dhe impresionohesh leht\u00ebsisht? \u201cTani fatke\u00ebqisht jo, por n\u00eb t\u00eb kaluar\u00ebn isha shum\u00eb e impresinonueshme\u201d, qesh Patrizia dhe rifillon:<\/p>\n

Shum\u00eb e impresionuar un\u00eb rr\u00ebshqas
\nSip\u00ebr teje dhe shqet\u00ebsohem
\nKrejt\u00ebsisht e pal\u00ebkundur t\u00eb mbetesh,
\nshpenzoj \u00e7do substanc\u00eb materiale
\nsa t\u00eb mos kem asgj\u00eb p\u00ebr t\u2019u shqet\u00ebsuar.<\/p>\n

E pyes se cilat jan\u00eb modelet e saj, kush jan\u00eb poet\u00ebt me t\u00eb cil\u00ebt konfrontohet. Bezdiset. \u201cUn\u00eb nuk krahasohem me bashk\u00ebkoh\u00ebsit e mi sepse p\u00ebr m\u00eb tep\u00ebr m\u00eb m\u00ebrzisin, konfrontohem vet\u00eb me poet\u00ebt shum\u00eb t\u00eb m\u00ebdhenj, ose m\u00eb mir\u00eb i lexoj. Me Umberto Saba, me Sandro Penna, me Giorgio Caproni. Tani po lexoj Mandelstamin, por \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb ferr, nuk mund t\u00eb lexoj n\u00eb rusisht, nuk mund t\u00eb shijoj rimat, po k\u00ebshtu edhe p\u00ebr Marina Cvetaevan: metrika \u00ebsht\u00eb kaq e r\u00ebnd\u00ebsishme, poezia \u00ebsht\u00eb tingullim.<\/p>\n

Poezit\u00eb e mia t\u00eb shkurt\u00ebra sikur t\u00eb mos kishin at\u00eb tingull nuk do t\u00eb ishin asgj\u00eb, por kur hap librat e poezive dhe syt\u00eb e mi rr\u00ebshqasin si n\u00eb nj\u00eb pasqyr\u00eb dhe nuk ndalen mbi asnj\u00eb fjal\u00eb dhe largohen tej sepse \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb fjal\u00eb insinjifikante apo duket se i shmangen \u00e7do emocioni dhe nuk e di pse \u00ebsht\u00eb aty, \u00ebsht\u00eb sikur t\u00eb rr\u00ebshqas\u00ebsh n\u00eb nj\u00eb pus t\u00eb zi. Kur lexon poet\u00ebt e v\u00ebrtet\u00eb fjal\u00ebt t\u00eb vijn\u00eb sip\u00ebr, ekzistojn\u00eb, hapen, nuk mbyllen. M\u00eb ndodh me Dante, me Cavalcanti, me Leopardi: i lexoj gjithmon\u00eb me ekstaz\u00eb, i m\u00ebsoj p\u00ebrmend\u00ebsh sepse \u00ebsht\u00eb e r\u00ebnd\u00ebsishme, \u00ebsht\u00eb themelore, m\u00eb shoq\u00ebrojn\u00eb: eci n\u00ebp\u00ebr rrug\u00eb dhe ata, n\u00eb nj\u00eb moment t\u00eb caktuar, m\u00eb ndihmojn\u00eb\u201d.<\/p>\n

Fjal\u00ebt rrjedhin, por edhe dashuria rrjedh, pas\u00eb frym\u00ebzon fjal\u00ebt: \u201cP\u00ebr dashurin\u00eb kam pasur momente t\u00eb tmerrshme: papritmas fillonte kjo vuajtje halu\u00e7inante, rrija me or\u00eb e fiksuar pas murit. Nuk m\u00eb ndodh m\u00eb, kjo gj\u00eb \u00ebsht\u00eb nd\u00ebrprer\u00eb, por un\u00eb jam b\u00ebr\u00eb m\u00eb pak inteligjente, m\u00eb opake, tani kam ndjesin\u00eb se nuk jam asgj\u00eb, pasi nuk ndjej m\u00eb at\u00eb q\u00eb ndjeja. Nuk e di n\u00ebse k\u00ebto jan\u00eb kura, por deri kam ndjesin\u00eb se kam ndryshuar karakter\u201d.<\/p>\n

Ndoshta \u00ebsht\u00eb vet\u00eb m se nuk je e dashuruar, por jepm\u00eb, tani, ende nj\u00eb poezi. Patrizia Cavalli buz\u00ebqesh, sistemon k\u00ebmish\u00ebn blu.<\/p>\n

Si e vdekur, m\u00eb pak se e vdekur,
\nM\u00eb shum\u00eb se e vdekur. E gjall\u00eb
\nN\u00eb dy hapa, e zhdukur
\nP\u00ebr syt\u00eb e mi. Zoti i takimeve,
\nKthemu mik.<\/p>\n

(nga Il Foglio<\/em> e 21 gushtit 2017)<\/p>\n

P\u00ebrgatiti<\/strong><\/p>\n

ARMIN TIRANA<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Patrizia Cavalli rr\u00ebfen “N\u00ebse d\u00ebshiron tamam ta dish \u2013 thot\u00eb Patrizia Cavalli dhe kjo duket si nj\u00eb k\u00ebrc\u00ebnim \u2013 un\u00eb poezit\u00eb i kam shkruar gjithmon\u00eb: t\u00eb parat i kam b\u00ebr\u00eb p\u00ebr Kim Novak, n\u00eb klas\u00ebn e pest\u00eb, pasi kam par\u00eb \u201cPicnic\u201d\u201d. Kim Novak q\u00eb zbret nga shkall\u00ebt duke rrahur shuplakat sipas koh\u00ebs s\u00eb muzik\u00ebs, bionde …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":16350,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16349"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16349"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16349\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16350"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16349"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16349"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foltore.al\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16349"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}