The Highland Lute-1937 Gjergj Fishta:

ZEUS10 Tue Feb 24, 2009 9:10 am

1937 | Gjergj Fishta:
Lahuta e Malcís / The Highland Lute
Kanga / Canto 5. 391-465

	Por, s' din Shkjau me mbajtë miqsí! But the shkjas don't value friendship! Aman, Zot, kur duel Serdari, Lo, when the Commander got there, Se ç' kje ndezë Vranina zhari! All Vranina was a bonfire. Aman, Zot, kur mrrîni Pera, Lo, when Pera reached the battle,

395	Se shum krisi atbotë potera! There was such a din and uproar. Por kur rán Shkjét e Vraninës Albanians from the rear were fired on Shum u krisi plumja shpinës! When Vranina's shkjas came fighting. Porsi shé, qi m' nji natë gjâmet As a torrent in a night storm Rritet turr e del prej âmet Overflows its banks and rises,

400	Tuj ushtue - e tue shkumue, When it foams and when it rages, Shkaperderdhet nper zallina, Flooding over beds of gravel, Ashtû u derdh Shkjau te Vranina, So the shkjas poured through Vranina, N' valë Shqyptarët krejt tue i pershî. In a wave submerged Albanians. S' lufton ndryshe e rrebtë kulshetra Thus does fight the fierce kulshedra

405	E me dhâmbë edhè me kthetra, With its teeth and claws a-lashing, Zjarm e surfull tue flakrue, Spewing fire, fomenting sulphur, Kur drangojt t' a kenë rrethue; When surrounded by the drangues. Si i qindron sod Shkjaut Shqyptari Thus the Albanians, shkjas resisting, Per dhé t' amel, qi i la i Pari: For the sweet land of their fathers,

410	Kâmbë per kâmbë, tuj qitë pá dá, Shoulders in a phalanx battled, Tue korrë krena neper Shkjá. Reaping heads among shkja fighters. U janë ndezun flakë breshânat, Spitting flames, fired their breshanas, U kullojn gjak n' dorë tagânat, Blood dripped on their hands from sabres, E u kullon gjak edhè zêmra, In their hearts their pulse was pounding,

415	Veç se vendit s' u lot thêmra. Though their heels stood fast, unmoving. Por ç' dobí: dielli tue lé But to what end? Then the sun rose, - Isht' tue lé m' at ditë per Shkjé! - Rose that day for Slavic triumph, I rán ndore Shkjaut t' terbuem Thirty dead and ten were injured, Tridhjetë t' vrám e dhetë t' shituem!... To the rabid shkjas fell victim.

420	O ata t' lumt, qi dhane jeten, Blessed those who gave their lives up, O ata t' lumt, qi shkrîne veten, Blessed those who sacrificed, who Qi per Mbret e vend të t' Parve, Died for sultan and their birthplace, Qi per erz e nderë t' Shqyptarve Died to save Albania's honour, Derdhen gjakun tuj luftue, Spilt their blood while doing battle,

425	Porsi t' Parët u pa'n punue! Fought as once had done their fathers. Letë u kjoftë mbí vorr ledina, O'er their graves may grass grow gently, Butë u kjoshin moti e stina, May the seasons, years weigh lightly, Aklli, bora e serotina: Ice and snow and rainstorm. For as E dér t' kndoje n' mal ndo 'i Zânë, Long as zanas sing in mountains,

430	E dér t' ketë n' dét ujë e rânë, Long as seas have sand and water, Dér sá t' shndrisin diell e hânë, Long as sun and moon are shining, Ata kurr mos u harrojshin, May they never be forgotten. N' kângë e n' valle por u kndojshin. Let song, dance commemorate them. E njaj gjak, qi kan dikue, All the blood that they did forfeit,

435	Bân, o Zot, qi t' jesë tue vlue May God make it boil and bubble Per m' i a xé zêmren Shqyptarit, Thus to hearten the Albanians Per kah vendi e gjûha e t' Parit! For their homeland and their language. Po, váll! Osja kû do t' jetë? But, oh where is Oso Kuka? Oso Kuka a mos ká mbetë? Could it be that he has fallen?

440	N' Xhebehane ká zatetë! He is holed up in the tower, Ká zatetë n' at kullë t' barotit, In that powder tower hiding Kû ká bâ êmrin e Zotit, And has sworn an oath to God that Se per t' gjallë nuk ká m' e lshue, He alive will not surrender, Shokët e vet per pá i pague Settling score for all his comrades,

445	Tridhetë t' vrám e dhetë t' shitue. Thirty dead and ten there injured. Kur pau Shkjau se pushka mêni When the shkjas heard wane the firing Si kah vau, si kah Liqêni, At the ford and at the lakeside, E se mbetë s' kisht' Oso Kuka Noted missing Oso Kuka Me tjerë t' vrám, perjashtë ke suka, 'mongst the dead around the hillock,

450	M' Xhebehane u turr m' at hera, They at once attacked the tower. Si, kur t' lshojë kah Prendvera, As when at the start of springtime Vrullet bleta çark njaj zgjonit, Bees swarm out around the beehive, Tue zukatë si rryma e prronit. Humming like the brooks and currents. N' brohorí tue i lutë jetë Knjazit Thus, a hundred on the rooftop,

455	Njiqind vetë kcyen m' kulm t' pullazit, Cried: "Long live the Prince!" rejoicing, Mâ t' permendunt kah trimnija, While the most courageous of them Njaq u njiten mbi frangija, Scrambled up to the embrasures, Tue thye muret n' gjak t' perlyeme: Breaching bloodied walls and fences. - Por ká gioben shpija e thyeme! - "All housebreaking must be paid for,"

460	Krisi Osja atbotë si ulâni, Roared out Oso like a lion, Mje m' Cetinë i vojti zâni: To Cetinje his voice echoed: "Ah kadalë, Nikollë, t' vraftë Zoti! "Careful now, you damned Nikolla, Pse ktû i thonë Oso baroti: Here they call me Powder Oso, Se s' ké pá Shqyptár me sy, Never you've seen an Albanian

465	Se djegë vehten edhè tý!" Blow himself up and you with him."

[English translation by Robert Elsie and Janice Mathie-Heck

ZEUS10 Tue Feb 24, 2009 3:31 pm

The following is an audio-recorded of the Gjergj Fishta speech(original):

The Highland Lute-1937 Gjergj Fishta:

The Highland Lute-1937 Gjergj Fishta:

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