Ahmet N Murati, a wandering poet between spiritual lyricism and patriotic fire.

Ahmet Murati declaiming one of his poetry work in a literature evening

Ahmet Murati declaiming one of his poetry work in a literature evening

As a buquette with flowers full aromatized and a endless colorit comes the peotical breathing of the author Ahmet Murati, who wanders, between spiritual lyricism and partriotic fire, he requires to create and identify is own creative portrait. Ahmet N Murati is born in city of Gjilan, Kosovo, on April 29th, 1979. Initial studies and basic one he took in his own birth city while he pursuite studying Computer Science and Engineering at University of Business and Engineering. Since a young age he was impacted and isnpired from various authors from Kosovo and greate foreign authors, which due to individual abilities he reads them in original language. The other source for this author it was also the history of it’s own nation under Serbian occupation, the war which the turns the heroes into a dithyramb, and dithyrambs into freedom’s torches and Kosovo’s Independendence. Ahmet’s peotry comes naturally, with a quadrated idyll, wit hthe fire and the bueaty of the age, with a finesse but also an eloquence of the eloquence of verses. The selected words, figuration, a special symbolism, but also a postmodern style make his poetry as attractive and as much breathtaking.

“I broke

I broke
the evening adorned with thrown pearls
around the corners of love
designed to prevent
rampant crazinesses through fabulous eclipses
unspeakable by words
uncoloredness by colors
indescribable in forms
they are crawled in itself
divided in sub-stations of satisfaction
where you and I were the only travelers
that wandered without stopping
we were seen from station to anther one

and didn’t broke up even the storms were hitting us
nor in the hail that disrupted our sleeping”.

From the the first verses the author espresses an idyllic love, described in words, abstractive colors and forms, where the madness and debauchery flamming backgrounds explodes into thousands of stars. He breaks the taboo, and far from every schematics or classicism operates hermetically, with the aim that the peotic lyrism to be as much expressive, intriguing and as laconic. Broken evening, torn appart, with converted dreams into the color spectacle and lights, has evicted sleep darkness, the night, death and he has opened other reflections and living passages. Certainly, that in between. Certainly, within this fever dream set on white dreams, with the affective rampancy, with the madness of the soul and divinity feeling of sacred love, proclaims figured as late lyricism but so deep.

If I could fly
I would go to the Paradise
To look for you overthere
But, if you wouldn’t to be there
I would need to go back to the earth
to find you again, you

There are verses that have shaft genuine lyrical symbolism and analogy to a deep pathetic, that remains fluid and loses traits of a aesthetic soul. The author defines love as something holy, pure and purity, which leads to heaven and down to earth again, as only to be wandering nature and mistisizes endless this true feeling. As regards the aspect lyrical and spirituality Ahmeti, in other verses it has dimension and new spaces that always enthrall and fascinate, but exigencies primary life support and to update time, which naturally connects with the fortunes and cohesion created in quadrature of it. Homeland, Kosovo, after almost 700-years between bloodbath, theror and pain of missing centuries gaining freedom, and this major event, this national rebirth, experienced with ovation. Apostolic of woven verses homeland, the land of the ancestors, martyrs and freedom so lacking for a biblical nation. The symbolism of arrays set on full modalities antagonism opposite two nations. On one side rises and rises the homeland, to the other side and irony denounced injustice centuries.

You, whore, with your hand
Like you have strained my heart
But in vain, your hand is whacked
Your hand pikes me with a needle
It does not go through my body,
And attempts to drill on?
But what drill
A granite rock
Since a single touch
To that needle, it destroys each particle
Your hand has left only the shadow
And as you can’t save putrefying

The author rightly calls a “whore“, for this is the “conqueror” unjust, humiliating, bloody, treacherous and place political and historical backstage. Her prognosis rebellion against hypocrisy, postulojnë such verses, which ironizes again and again, but the show and historical truth, which rightly supported and protected by other civilized nations. Not unintentionally Ahmet parabolizes between needle “shadow” that and the final stretch seeks to poison stealthily and homeland “rock“, who exalted and crushes any particle that wants to bite wickedly body. The last verse “You decay can not escape,” concluded beautiful artistically, but historically, because amorfism, developed artificially has ruined roaring, and all this ruin has remained the memory of that past evil to fatally thrived on pain the innocent blood of other ethnicities.

This is an retrospective observation about the creative portrait of Ahmet, who today is a brushstroke of new scratch sky of great creative, but the uniqueness of it, thought poetry, creative spirit and the great world full of passion, definitely will pose a voice of our literary tomorrow.

Lidhja Ndërkombëtare e Poetëve, Shkrimtarëve dhe Artistëve “PEGASI” ALBANIA

International League of the Poets, Writers and Artists “PEGASI” ALBANIA

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Posted by amurati

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