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Ervin Hatibi
Nacionalidad:
Albania
E-mail:
Biografia
militrisch
***
militrisch [adriatisch] das Gebiet Schwertschwanz
ein Nachmittag im Juli, eine Goldmnze
mit dem Profil des Knigs, im verschlossenen Mund eines Kindes
das wer wei wo hin geht
[denen dies wissen tuts weh]
ein Nachmittag im April ein Zeh samt Nagel, soeben geschnitten
auf einem Perser voll Flten und Vgel
das ist der Schwertschwanz das ist der Name der Bucht
Nachmittag fr Nachmittag
umgeben von trockenen Zuckerbrothgeln; das Meer vorneweg
wie Glas im Rahmen, eben aufgehngt in einem Reisebro
verschlossen voll Freude in einem Reagenzglas Traurigkeiten
Nasser Sand bis hoch zum Schenkel
und Stmpfe von Bumen bringt das Meer an die Bucht, und Tausende Plastikflaschen
ohne irgendeine Botschaft
und Puppen von Babys mit Gummiaugpfeln
und Spuren von Hunden bringt das Meer an den Sandstrand
und gebrochene Ecken von Schalen von Panzern
Mein Krieg mit Lge und Vergessen
produziert Poesie fr meinen Busen
[hermetisch] militrisch das Gebiet Schwertschwanz
Stahlstrucher
Betonwrfel von Enver Hoxha gestrzt und immer noch grn
und zur Hlfte im Strand
Ich komme, das Meer zu finden, ausschlielich an wrfelfrmigen Militrbusen
an Postblcken und verminten Gebieten entwischen wir der
ffentlichkeit
an Strnden einer gewaltsam gehteten Jungfrulichkeit unter
Inphibulationen
des Warschauer Paktes
Nudisten und Fixer und Muslimane mit Brten so lang
intim und ruhmlos
verfolgt, doch mit ihresgleichen im Krieg um
die Exklusivitt
des Busens
des Schwertschwanzes, erstarrte Toponymie unter
Sonne
fernab von dem Frohsinn von Volk, Polizei
und vor allem fernab von der Frauenschaft, ich war in meinem Metier, allein fast
ber Kilometer
durchnsst durch das Wasser, getrocknet durch Sand
den Kopf voll mit alten Sachen
sammelnd mit Mue wie in der Buchhandlung
durch die behaarten Achseln des Strandes
da fand ich [und mein Herz schlgt wie...]
fand ich hinter einem Betonblock, ich schwre
eine dnne Fixernadel
sowie
einen Schlafanzug
eine tote Spritze, mit einem alten Blutfleck
an der beraus hbschen Spitze
gegenber dagegen ein feuchtes Paar Hosen, noch lebend
mit dunklen Mdchenblumen
schick wie ein Schlsselbein eines gekochten Schafs
in meiner Kehle
...........................................................................

ein Nachmittag im April oder September oder Mai
Ich grub mit einem Sthnen
im Sand
das Loch
und da es fr mich nicht reichte
begrub ich einfach
diese Nadel im Halbdunkel, wie bei den Orgasmen
und die anderen die Blumen eine nach der anderen
sandbegraben, irgendwo, vor Jahren
am Schwertschwanz jeden Nachmittag
in einem geheimen Busen
das Meer zur Rechten
das [Ksten-]Herz zur Linken
es zittert nach Sden
wo die Stirn in jeder Bewegung Sandkrner empfngt
an einige Orte, mein Freund, kann man nur gehen
sterbend zuvor.

2002
bersetzung: Florian Kienzie
'Pasqyra e lendes', ORA, 2004


They'll Invent a Substance or a Machine

Soon they'll invent a substance
Or a machine, who knows, women will succeed,
And men will, too,
In slimming magically, 'butterflies of some tragic drink
That go blind inside the chalice of youth,'
In losing weight, their exact dimensions will scorn us.
The sweat of the architect physician will drip, like a compass,
On that boiled rose,
That bourgeois French revolution
Which divides the bum from the back - the panting of the girl
Whom I loved for eleven years.
In short, the erotic erosion of fat will appear in the headlines
The tests, the reactions,
Extremely precise, no trauma, the slimming machines
In clinics will exorcize all that fellow's culinary excesses,
His belly filled with savings for a subscription or a yoga course,
And the lady, sighing, will melt her rigid breasts
And will yet return with regret to the machine,
Perhaps to put on or to lose a few more pounds,
At the same time, she will firm the calves of her weary legs.
The world will be filled with the delicate creations of Rodin,
Which do it quickly, their copulating cocks like the talons of sparrows
On the high-voltage wires.
Then, they say that other machine will be invented,
That other substances which, buried in bright-coloured phials
From the slimming labs,
Will carry off the daily
Surplus
Of fat,
Cart it down to the Third World,
To the Somalis with ribs protruding from deep beneath the earth,
And inject it into their black skins, to the arid beating of drums
Under the palm trees,
All the bums and thighs and protein-filled throats,
Bequeathed on boring Swedish afternoons in Europe,
And thus all races will become brothers and equals
And all men will be happy tattoos.

[1994]
[Do t shpiket nj lng ose makin, from the volume Poezi, Tirana 1995, p. 40-41. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]


Especially in August

At the beach: the sea!
Since we did not have a revolution,
Let's swim full of anger, deeper and deeper,
The farther from land, the closer to heaven,
Sea gulls paid on postcards, estranged from us,
Remain
On our backs,
Or rarely even unpaid remain,
Especially now in August,
We are all a deeply tanned people,
Made of native colonists,
Half nude, wrapped in rags of portentous colours,
We run down the beach, buying up baubles and watches,
We flirt and do crazy things,
Then in the shade we pray prostrated to the sun
And baptize ourselves in the faecal sea water
[the hairy faeces of women like dark-coloured crabs,
Millipede priests, bind us to these pagan rites].
Day after day come trains and wagons filled with young
Internees.
Those who wanted to have a Revolution
Or make some grimace in public,
Beaten by the traffic police all year round,
Their journey ends at the sea.
Here they are brought to chill out, correct their ways.
[a calming full of ardour, full of shouting thighs, motor boots
Of pumice, icy like quotations],
Only the sand is limp, wears you down, reminds us
Of the expulsion
From our homes
Or from the promised land,
But we chose the beach ourselves,
Jews disrobed, in underwear
Under a crematorium sun
Which capital freed from the ozone chains,
We rape one another reciprocally for nothing
As soon as we remove our textile masks, which as I said,
Enclose other humanities beneath.
As soon as summer comes,
The temperatures rise,
Democracy will reign over the abandoned city
Under the weary coups d'tat of tourism.

[1994]
[Sidomos n gusht, from the volume Poezi, Tirana 1995, p. 58. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]


EN DANOIS

C'est en danois qu'elle a crit son bouquin
Des oies sauvages
Elle leur a mme mis des noms
Personnels
Ds que la premire page s'ouvre
Les oies gobent leurs noms qu'elles prennent pour des insectes
Ds que s'ouvre la deuxime page
Me perce le nez une odeur comme de la sueur de mm
Entre les deux pages du bouquin une aisselle j'aperois
C'est l'endroit o mm nous a port
Jusqu' notre naissance
Je me rappelle lui avoir demand d'o sommes-nous sortis
O tions-nous avant d'tre au monde
Elle disait sous mon aisselle
Elle montrait son aisselle par un mouvement dsinvolte
Une vrit que les poils rendaient indcente
C'est de l qu'est sortie la littrature pour enfants
Et mme que l'aisselle a mis au monde des enfants
Le texte l'affirme clairement
C'est une dame qui l'a crit
En danois
Les dessins aquarells aguichent la lecture
Et c'est ainsi que les pages tournent, en me renvoyant
Petit petit ma prime enfance
Enfant joueur, je dchirais les livres pour enfants
Mchant enfant qui doutais de tout et mentais
J'tais donc le premier dshabiller une gamine du quartier
Menue comme moi-mme, je la feuilletais avec mon doigt moite
Et j'tais donc le dernier grandir avec une dcennie de retard
Parcourant mes petits bouquins comme des culottes de poupes emptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptypropres
J'ai grandi dans les livres, j'ai t le dernier dshabiller une fille
Mais au moins j'ai pu chapper
Au renard
Et la candeur de la poule
Ou ce sage paysan qui a vaincu le roi
Et culbut sa fille la princesse
Et j'ai russi crire un vrai bonheur
Un pome
Pour les yeux innocents du loup
Et sa respiration cre
Qui souffle sur mon coeur-en-cloche
Enfant grandi dans une fort dboise
J'ai choisi mes livres avant mme
D'avoir appris lire
Anim par un sens irascible sachant sparer
Les bons champignons des nuisibles
Jamais fils de pute n'a pu m'enfermer
Dans les hospices dessins pour enfants
Bouquins de vicieux dans lesquels
La violence se profile entre les lignes
Une grande inquisition, un bcher sont ncessaires
Pour faire incendier l'ignorance des bouquins pour enfants
Bouquins pareils du fourrage mlang aux crales
Une progniture funeste leve par des mms mourantes
Des pages remplies de machiavlismes pour juniors
De pomes pour le fascisme chrtien et l'alchimie
Des livres qui, autrement, auraient d
tre servis avec plein de dlicatesse et d'art
Mais l'ge o nos cheveux blanchissent :
Nous dciderions nous-mmes de nous laisser aller...
[Que les chevaux hennissent toutes les paroles qu'ils veulent
Que les palissades s'croulent sous la pornographie infantile
Et que les tentations s'accumulent pour mettre l'preuve notre bonne emptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptyemptyfoi]
Car le crime n'est pas que d'avoir crit le livre
Car le crime n'est pas que de l'avoir mal crit
Car le crime n'est pas que de l'avoir crit en danois
Et d'avoir donn des noms danois aux oies sauvages
Mais tu dois tre mre, tu es oblige d'tre mre
ma mre ! le livre est le premier viol que j'ai subi
Ds l'ge o j'ai appris lire
Je n'ai pas voulu que cela finisse ainsi
Mais c'est le livre qui finit comme cela
Palabres...
Votre crime donc c'est d'avoir insidieusement
Conu
Une violence destine aux enfants
Avec des oies parlantes danoises
C'est fait insidieusement, je me rpte,
Vos seules privations d'crivaine, l'art de la cuisine et la morale
Dont je doute que vous les ayez exerces
Tout au long de vos semaines fabuleuses
Lorsque vous criviez vos bizarreries rythmiques
Oh !... mademoiselle, excusez-moi, madame la Scandinave anonyme
Excusez-moi pour ma mchancet
Au fait, votre sacr bouquin je ne l'ai mme pas lu
Mais c'est l'exaspration qui me fait vivre
[Je suis fier d'avoir t un rouge, un vrai]
Sachez seulement que
Depuis trs longtemps je cherche un peu d'apaisement
Un peu de matrise de soi
Et peut-tre est-il vrai que nous aimons les enfants tous les deux
Ainsi que l'apaisement
Et que le criminel c'est moi
Un dernier mot :
Lorsque vous criviez vos oies
Vous tiez calme et paisible pour de vrai
Ou vous avez choisi d'tre odieuse
Et de laisser aux enfants l'embarras du choix ?

Trad: Ardian Marashi

ME TITULL

Ditn notojn prkitas
Me ijet e mija
Ca sardele konserve n val t vakta
Jashtqitje anijesh t rnda
E dielli prishet n gjum, pikon jargt n ijet e mija
Ka anije burrash e grash
Tamam si edhe v-c
Anijet q ikin jan anije t grave
Prtej n brigjet prbri i zbresin
Nnat e fmijve tan
I shkarkojn npr net e nett i qepin
N sahatt diellor t piacave plaka
Anijet q vijn jan burrash
T parfumuar e t lodhur
Burrat e huaj na sjellin stofra e bulmet
Plus makina elektrike
Plus do gj tjetr t re q bn fjal
Pr kt dymijvjear q zhduket
Jemi kredhur kshtu me portet pr qafe
Si me ca dshmi penaliteti
Jemi kredhur n kt det bluxhins
Pa prfillur asnj simbolik
[Ku dreqin m ojn velat e tatuazheve]
Nofullat plaka t ujit m'i prtypin ijet
Dhe interesohen
Pyesin pr Noen
N uj e n tok njsoj jam, i zbathur
Kpuct i harrova n der t faltores q ma prishn
Shum e shum koh para se t lindte im at
[Ku sht ishulli, ku zrat e dyshimt e zjarri]
Rra e mbl e vdekjes m'i prmbyt gishtat e lagur
Dal n plazh
Plazhi me bishta cigaresh, turist
Plazhi i shitur me bishta cigaresh, turist
M tej sht rruga, aty fshati, prtej qyteti
Kjo sht bota, ndan rrugs sht dhija
dhe nj qetr grua e cjapit
Nn femijsh q e prmojn
Nna mjel dhin, ndan xhades
Pr t prodhuar kremin pr fytyrn e llrt me vrima
ku strehoen verat q ikn.
Harruar shtpia e tyre ku un
shptova
duke u martuar me nnn e tyre
Q m prmojn
Aty rrojm pr inat t turistve
Q t'u shrbejm
Jetojm tr vitin me at q ata tr vitin kursejn
E vjedhim botn nga ky cep i vogI fare ne
Aq sa mundim, kurr sa 'mundohemi
U shesim qumsht t freskt pr banja si edhe shalqi
Na blejn edhe kapela t thurura me duar
q rriten aty npr ligatat pas shtpis prej eterniti.
Hapen n rr adrat e plazhit, tej xhades
s veturave, q po digjet -dridhet
tej brezit me pIepa, m Ier t shikoj, Ierm
brekt e vogla si hapen mbyllen npr ecje grash
trhiqen, mblidhen ngusht tekndshe si harta t Indis
q u nism ta pushtojm qysh fmij
Por prfunduam duke zbuluar Amerikn
Nat pr nat t neveritshme n martesa shtrati
teksa Iarg dgjohen dritat e hotelit
Djersa e saj prmbi mua sht benzin
[Benzin e boj poemash Ervin...]
N dark numroj monedhat, nuk lexoj m
Nuk pres rimat, fmijt e vonuar pres
q s'di t kujt jan
Nga Iarg vjen afshi i dadove t hekurudhs s rrnuar
Pres fmijt dhe shoh televizion, ose brekt
e zeza me dantella t detit larg atje
Mbi kofsh marramendse t qiellit plot dhjam t zbardht pilotsh
Fmijt jan kornizat e drits s hns
Ose t hotelit
Jan nj gardh i zbardhur fmijt e mi, gardh
q rrethon gzimin q mbaron
t turistve q vallzojn tek holli
Fmijt
nuk duan t vijn n kt shtpi
Pastaj ata vijn, un fle
Djersa e tyre sht koka-kola
koka- kola- koka -kola -koka- kola
[T pagzoj n emr t atit, birit
e shpirtit t shenjt amerikan]
Kalojn yjet, teatr dritash n tavan
prej makinave q n rrug ikin
Lott e mi jan qumsht dhije
E i pi nj gjarpr thatim
Un mbase desha t kem fmij
Ose q fmij desha t m dilte nga shpirti
nj vjersh pr nnn
dhe rrija symbyllur, pa marr frym me lapsin n gisht
Ishte si nj bindje e po asaj moshe
se edhe gruaja e burri po ashtu e mbajn
frymn symbyllur, dhe barku mbushet
i gruas, me nj mjegull mishi
Por, s'e pres m at vjersh t lindet
Jam kaq i poshtr dhe serioz
I zhytur kok e kmb
N kt jet bluxhins
E vetmja gj, t cils ia arrita vetvetiu
kur hapa syt
ishte se qeshe vjetruar ca, si rra nxehet nn diell
Dhe nj turist m kishte vjedhur n tezg kapeln e tij t kashts

'6', Marin Barleti, 1995

BIO:
Ervin Hatibi
was born in Tirana, Albania, on May 31st 1974. During his childhood he was enrolled in acting courses and lent his voice as a child-actor in the radio dramas of the Albanian Public State Radio. At the age of 14, Ervin Hatibi published his first poems in the literary pages of the main newspapers of the epoch. His first poetry collection Prdit Shoh Qiellin, Tirana, Albania, prefaced by Ismail Kadare, was published in 1989 when he was only 15 and was widely acclaimed by the critics. At that time, following the sudden notoriety of the young author, the National Film Studios of Albania Shqiperia e Re, produced a documentary film on his works, entitled The 15 Year Old Poet.

His first painting exhibition was held in spring 1991 at the National Gallery of Fine Arts. In 1992, while finishing up his studies at the School of Foreign Languages Asim Vokshi in Tirana, Ervin Hatibi co-founded the literary avant-garde magazine e per-7-shme. In the ensuing years, he wrote extensively on matters of social and literary import, and also actively took part in youth movements, which preceded the democratic changes in his country. He wrote memorable lyrics for well-known pop singers and bands in Tirana, and had his own share of rock scene with his band, as a front man.

Having finished his studies in Albanian Literature & Language at the University of Tirana, and before moving to Jordan with the purpose of studying the Arabic language and civilisation, Ervin Hatibi published his second and most notorious poetry collection 6, Tirana, 1995. From that point on his poetry was published in various anthologies on major Albanian poets: Anthology of Albanian Poetry, in Macedonian, Macedonia, 1998, Anthology of Contemporary Italian and Albanian Poetry, in Italian & Albanian, Italy, 1998, Three Albanian Poets, in Spanish, Spain, 2003, Frightening and Beautiful, in Albanian, Kosovo, 2003.

His most recent collection of poems, Pasqyra e Lnds [Table of Contents], came out in 2004 in Albania.

Along the years Ervin Hatibis writing has progressively intensified in the genre of essays. He has periodically written and published articles and essays in all major newspapers and magazines in Albanian language: the leading Albanian newspaper Shekulli and the historical Albanian Macedonian magazine Lobi, but not only. Bota Shqiptare, in Italy and Fjala, in Albania, have also frequently been tribunes of his writings. Ervin Hatibi has written in length on issues related to culture, religion and arts and has participated in writing, but not only, in the social and the political debates of our complex times. By end of the year 2000, he became the editor in chief of Drita Islame Magazine [Light of Islam], the official magazine of the Muslim Community of Albania, a position from which he resigned in 2003.

His collection of essays, Republick of Albanania, Albania, 2005, is a colourful collage of some of his best essays written during this past decade.

As the television era has continuously gained more and more terrain, Ervin Hatibi has growingly participated in important interventions and debates on contemporary issues in relation to social matters, and more particularly in culture and religion. For the most part, the debates and the interventions have been conducted by leading Albanian television channels, such as Klan, Arbria, Top Channel and Vizion Plus, but many of them have been led by the leading television channels of Greece, Austria, Italy, etc., and also by important news broadcasting agencies, such as Associated Press, Reuters, and Radio France International, BBC among many others.

In the meanwhile, what has particularly enchanted Ervin Hatibi during all these years has been his growing need to communicate through painting. Although Ervin Hatibis first collages coincide with his first poems, painting remained his hidden mistress for several years. Upon his return from Jordan, painting progressively started to enflame his imagination and became a strong mean of communication. These last years have been unprecedented in his painting career. Ervin Hatibi has shown in remarkable exhibitions, such as: Albanie, Printemps-Eternite 2003, Paris 2003, Pop-Ferman, Ferrara 2004 and f&rman, Skopje 2004, fast forwarding fermans, Istanbul 2008, and only very recently he was called upon by the National Gallery of Fine Arts and the Ministry of Culture of Albania to curate the yearly international visual arts contest Onufri 07, Albanias most important visual art event, which takes place in the premises of the National Gallery of Fine Arts in Tirana. At present, Ervin Hatibi lives and works between Tirana and Instanbul.

ervin.hatibi@gmail.com

 

Desarrollado por: Asesorias Web
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