Dances of Rites – Engjëll I. Berisha, Kosovo

Dances of Rites

Lowered the feet’s blood

Hand palm in charcoal’s forehead shakes of sweat by Summer

Fruits in ice that squeeze a skin

The play of a bull

Of Evil

With glass and men drinks his mind like water

As the poet says “in other spheres”

Only the body remained

Nirvana if it found

The water of well with insects

And the Sun’s real rays

With shyness returns it to come in a prophetic world

Touched the end by hand

That in his body emerged outside his soul

The dolphin’s jump in this world coming from the sea

Perhaps it would have been an anphibious men