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I Don’t Care
“I constantly pray they’ll grant me the favor of a single outburst, a twitch, a hint that I share her pain, that I still do something—anything.”
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“I constantly pray they’ll grant me the favor of a single outburst, a twitch, a hint that I share her pain, that I still do something—anything.”
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I met Ramiz Beka beside the National Theatre building, which no longer exists. Before we sat down at a café along the pedestrian street, he asked me in great detail…

“Poetry has been and still is a means: it has made my life easier, as an alternative way of living, especially when I needed it the most, in my early…

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In Flanders Fields By John McCrae In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely…