Poem by Susana Roberts dedicated to Atjon V. Zhiti



(I honor to Atjon Zhiti)

Beyond the farest lighthouse and the cold winter
Here in my southern land
Your words come with the colors of August
in my heart, a touch of monastic dance
pure light from the fields of Tirana
Towards this coast is approaching
It’s pure bright in your written true feelings
behind, is hidden the darkness in this times of covid
life is stirring, your sweet protector wings Atjon
are a creed in the calendar.
They will be eternal words that go through the years
Without parentheses or goals,
August words are dancing an awakening
what we are and what we want to be
to understand our mission
of empathit Divine spirits of faith and love.

Atjon V. Zhiti
Copyright- Susana Roberts. Argentina (4.8.2020)


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