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Thenie-Proverba |
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Emri i mire fitohet me shumė punė tė mira dhe humbet me njė tė ligė
--- Populli
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Vizitoret e castit? |
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Kemi 97 vizitor(e) dhe 0 anetar(e) ne faqe ne kete moment.
Ju jeni vizitor anonim. Mund te rregjistroheni ne cast falas duke klikuar ketu
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Perkujtimore |
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Nje dite si kjo ...
2008
Tom Kola
Nė 19 prill 1943 u vra gjatw luftimeve me forcat pushtuese nė Domje tė Shkodrės Tom Kola, veprimtar i Luftės Antifashiste, Hero i Popullit.
Assemble of Songs and Dance
Nė 19 prill 1964 u themelua Ansambli i Kėngėve e Valleve tė Kosovės, qė dha mbi 50 koncerte nėpėr botė. Sot quhet Ansambli "Shota".
Paolo Veronese
Nė 19 prill 1588 mbylli sytė piktori i njohur italian Paolo Veroneze, i cili i pėrket Shkollės veneciane tė Artit. Punimet mė tė mira tė tij janė: "Garsia nė shtėpinė e Levit", "Dasma nė kanenė e Galileit", "Kalvari", "Triumfi i Venecias", etj.
Pier Kyri
Nė 19 prill 1906 vdiq Pier Kyri, njėri nga shkencėtarėt mė tė mėdhenj tė kohėrave, qė punoi bashkė me tė shoqen, Mari, zbuluan rrezatimin radioaktiv, si dhe futėn nė fizikė termin e radioaktivitetit. Nė vitin 1903 u nderuan mė ēmimin e madh Nobel.
George Gordon Byron
Nė 19 prill 1824 u nda nga jeta poeti i njohur anglez Xhorxh Gordon Bajron, autor i dramės "Manfredi", "Kaini", i romanit "Don Zhuani", dhe sigurisht i poemės madhore "Ēajld Harold", ndėr vargjet e sė cilės i kushton edhe njė vend Shqipėrisė.
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Ne vazhdim te ketij artikulli do te gjeni vjershat 1.O Moj Shqypni nga Pashko Vasa dhe 2.Bageti e Bujqesi nga Naim Frasheri te perkthyera ne anglisht nga Prof. Peter Prifti.
Per ata qe pelqejne te lexojne apo studiojne letersine shqiptare, dua tu kujtoj lidhjen e Letėrsisė e cila ndodhet ne krye te faqes sone.
Pashko Vasa (1880)
E perktheu ne anglisht Prof. Peter Prifti
O MOJ SHQIPNI
O moj Shqipni, e mjera Shqipni
kush te ka qitė me krye nė hi?
Ti ke pas kenė njė zonjė e rande
burrat e dheut te thirshin nanė
Ke pasė shumė t'mira e begati
me vajza t'bukra, me djem t'ri
Gja e vend shumė, ara e bashtina
me armė tė bardha e pushkė ltina
me burra trima, me gra tė dlira
ti ndėr gjithe shoqet ke kene ma e mira
Kur krista pushka si me shkrep moti
Zogu i shqiptarit gjithmonė i zoti
ka qėnė pėr luftė e n'luft ka vdekun
e dhunė mbrapa kurr s'i ka mbetun
Kur ka lidh besėn burri i Shqipnisė
I ka shti dridhėn gjithė Rumelisė
ndėr lufta t'rrepta gjithkund ka ra
me faqe t'bardhė gjithmonė asht da
Po sot, Shqipni, pa m'thuej si je?
Po sikur lisi i rrxuem perdhe
Shkon bota sipri, me kambė tė shklet
e njė fjalė tė ambėl askush s'ta flet
Si mal me borė, si fushė me lule
ke pas ken veshun, sot je me cule
e s'tė kan mbetun as emn, as besė
vet' i ke prishun pėr faqe t'zezė
Shqiptar',me vllazėn jeni tuj u vra
ndėr njėqind ēeta jeni shpėrnda...
Qani ju shpata e ju dyfeqe
shqiptari u zu si zog ndėr leqe
Qani ju trima bashkė me ne
Se ra Shqipnia me faqe n'dhe
E s'i ka mbetun as bukė as mish
as zjarm nė votėr as dritė as pishė
as gjak nė faqe as nder ndėr shokė
por asht rrėxue e bamun trokė
Para se t'hupet kėshtu Shqipnia
me pushkė n'dorė le t'desė trimnia
Ēoniu shqiptarė prej gjumit ēoniu
tė gjithė si vllazėn n'njė besė shtrėngoniu
e mos shikoni kisha e xhamia
feja e shqiptari asht shqiptaria
Qysh prej Tivarit deri n'Prevezė
gjithkund lshon dielli vapė edhe rrezė
asht toka jone, prind na e kan lane
kush mos na e prekė se desim t'tanė
ALBANIA
Oh, poor Albania, bruised from lashes
Who dared push your face in ashes?
Hailed once a woman of noble birth,
Mother you were called by men of this Earth.
Rich you were, to tell the truth.
With lovely girls and handsome youth,
With lots of cattle, gardens, farms
With Latin rifle and other arms
With men of courage and women of cheer
In all the world you had no peer.
When guns boomed like the crack of thunder
Albanias men rushed out of yonder,
And always fought well, till the end came,
And never soiled their name with shame.
When men of Albania pledged to fight,
All of Rumelia shivered with fright,
In fierce battles they fought and died,
With honor their memory inscribed.
But now, Albania, youre a sight of woe
Just like an oak tree brought down low!
All step on you as if you were dead,
And not one kind word to you is said.
Once you dressed well, like a woman high-born,
Today, your fine robes are badly torn,
Youve lost your name, your faith, too,
And none is to blame for it but you.
Albanians, you are slaying one another,
Some shout for country, some against sin,
One says Im Turk, another Latin,
Others Greeks or Slavs profess to be,
Fools! You are brothers cant you see?
Priests and mullas have made you mute
To keep you split and destitute.
Foreigners sit by your fireplace,
Your wives and sisters they disgrace,
And if money comes knocking on your door
The faith of your father you ignore,
You become slaves of alien boors,
Whose race and tongue differ from yours.
Weep, oh your rifles and you who care
Albanians, like birds, are caught in a snare,
Weep with us, you warriors all around,
For Mother Albania, lying on ground;
She has no bread or meat to eat,
Nor fire in the hearth, not light or heat,
Pale of cheek and unrespected,
She lies broken and neglected!
Gather you women, so pretty and spry,
Who know so well to weep and cry.
For shes shorn of honor and forlorn,
Shes like a widow whose man is gone,
Shes like a mother without a son!
Who has the heart to let cruel death,
Take this brave women, panting for breath?
Can we allow aliens to smother
And trample on our cherished Mother?
No, no! Such shame no one can beat,
Such vile conduct all men forswear!
Let warriors die carrying the banner
Before Albania is lost in this manner
Awake, Albania, its time to rise
And bind yourselves with brotherly ties;
Look not to church or mosque for pietism,
The faith of Albanians is Albanianism!
From Tivar all the way to Preveze
The sun sends down its light and rays;
Its our land, the land of our ancestors,
To the death well defend it from predators
Better to die for it like the man of old,
Than in shame before the Lord!
NAIM FRASHERI
Bagėti e Bujqėsi(pjese)
O malet' e Shqiperise e ju o lisat' e gjate!
Fushat e gjera me lule, q'u kam nder ment dit' e nate!
Ju bregore bukuroshe e ju lumenjt' e kulluar!
cuka, kodra, brinja gerxhe dhe pylle te gjelberuar!
Do te kendoj bagetine qe mbani ju e ushqeni,
O vendthit e bekuar, ju mendjen ma defreni
Ti Shqiperi, me ep nder, me ep emrin shqiptar,
Zemren ti ma gatove plot me deshire e me zjarr.
Shqiperi, o mema ime, ndonese jam i merguar,
Dashurine tende kurre zemra s'e ka harruar.
Heards and Pastures,
To Albania
You mountains of Albania, you trees of towering height,
You meadows broad, all full of flowers, you're with me day and night.
You stately magnificent hills, you rivers bright and sheen,
You knolls and boulders, rocks and crags, you woodlands clad in green.
I dream of all the flocks and herds you feed and rear and house,
O blessed spot, what joy in me, what longing you arouse!
You do me very honour that I bear Albania's name,
For you it is who made me, and who fill my heart with flame.
Albania, O Mother mine, though we are far apart,
My loving memory of you lies ever in my heart!
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