(JETES)
                                   ...Marrezi, turp turp dhe
                                   mekate
                                   per jeten e terbuar
                                   se kur me ndal, o gjenerate,
                                   qe vuan rruges ndonje nate,
                                   me merr per te denuar
                                   dhe, me nje ze qe vret,
                                   ngahera me pyet:
                                   -Ku linde, o i ri?
                                   -O jete, linda ne shkreti!
                                   -Ku rron dhe ku vete,
                                   ne c'dhera e ne c'dete?!
                                   -Cudi! C'kerkon prej meje ti

                                   dhe si, o jete, pyet,
                                   kurse ne varferi
                                   me hodhe kur me gjete
                                   te lindur nga skelete
                                   pa drite, pa liri?
                                   -Njeri!
                                   Nga vete, as me thua?
                                   -S'e di! Jo, Nuk e di!
                                   Po lerme, o jete, c'ke me
                                   mua?
                                   -Dua ta di, po dua!
                                   -Atehere, jete e krisur,
                                   per mua mos pyet
                                   se qysh ne n'agim kam nisur

                                   te shkel si skllav i shkrete
                                   mbi gjurma shprese drite...
                                   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . .
                                   . . . .
                                   -O mekatar,
                                   as faliu ligjes sime,
                                   bindu i cmendur enderrtar,
                                   s'jeton me shqetesime!...
                                   -Mu thell' ne brendesire
                                   ku ndjenja rron e lire,
                                   ku dhembja dhemb e prekur

                                   nga ligja jote e fuqiplote,
                                   ne gjirin tim si hekur,
                                   si hekur e celik,
                                   qello,qello, o me kamxhik;
                                   pa frik'  e pa meshire
                                   e pa pendim,
                                   se mu ne thellesire
                                   te shpirtit, ne nje kend,
                                   lindi nje shqetesim
                                   qe celi varrin tend...

                                                       1937