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action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home4/lyxeemw0/shqipopedia.org/en/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6114Lasgush Poradeci (1899-1987) had lived the final years of his life in his beloved town of Pogradec on Lake Ohrid, not far from the Macedonian border, tending his garden and studying the ever-changing moods of the lake. The rhythmic and gentle lapping of the waves had always been among the fundamental sources of his pantheistic verse.<\/p>\n
Poradeci, pseudonym of Llazar Gusho, was born in Pogradec on 27\u00a0December 1899 – being only three or four days older than the twentieth century, as he once remarked. He attended a Romanian-language school in Monastir (Bitola), Macedonia, from 1909 to 1916. In the middle of the First World War, his father, despite the tenuous relations between Albanians and Greeks in southeastern Albania at the time, sent the adolescent Llazar to Greece to continue his schooling, on the condition that he not study at a Greek-language institution. Llazar therefore enrolled at the French-language Lyc\u00e9e des Fr\u00e8res Maristes in Athens where he remained until 1920. For health reasons, however, the last two years of his stay in the Greek capital were spent not at school but in a sanatorium to which, despite his desperate financial situation, he was referred with the assistance of Sophia Schliemann, widow of the famed German archaeologist, Heinrich Schliemann (1822-1890). Although not completely recovered, the twenty-year-old Llazar was expelled from the sanatorium prematurely in 1920 after having been caught in flagranti <\/em>with a nurse. The following year we find the budding poet in Bucharest, where he joined his brother. Llazar wanted to study at the Academy of Fine Arts, but registering proved to be difficult, since the Romanian government, in a wave of anti-semitism, had imposed restrictions on study by all non-Romanian nationals. After much tribulation, however, he succeeded in enrolling. The poet\u2019s stay in Bucharest was to have a decisive influence on his literary development. It was here that he met and befriended the romantic poet Asdreni, whom he replaced as secretary of the Albanian colony in 1922, short story writer Mitrush Kuteli (1907-1967), and numerous Romanian writers and poets. He also began publishing verse in various Albanian-language periodicals: Shqip\u00ebri\u2019 e re<\/em>, an illustrated national weekly published in Constanza, and Dielli<\/em> of Boston among others. His verse of this period was already revealing a certain theosophical affinity to the Romanian lyric poet Mihai Eminescu (1850-1889).<\/p>\n A scholarship provided by the Fan Noli government in 1924 enabled him to continue his studies abroad. Poradeci immediately left for Berlin, where he hoped to study under Austrian Albanologist Norbert Jokl (1877-1942). The chair appears to have been vacant at the time and Poradeci continued on to the University of Graz in southeastern Austria where he registered at the Faculty of Romance and Germanic philology. The poet spent a total of ten years in Graz which he counted as the most enjoyable of his life. In May 1933 he finished his doctorate there with a dissertation on Der verkannte Eminescu und seine volkst\u00fcmlich-heimatliche Ideologie<\/em> (The unappreciated Eminescu and his native folk ideology). The following year, Poradeci returned to Albania and taught art at a secondary school in Tirana where he remained during the war. From 1944 until 1947, the first turbulent years of communist rule, he was unemployed, and lived with his wife in Tirana on the latter\u2019s meagre salary as a teacher. After brief employment at the Institute of Science, forerunner of the University of Tirana, he got a job translating literature for the state-owned Naim Frash\u00ebri publishing company where he worked, keeping a low profile, until his retirement in 1974. He died in absolute poverty at his home in Tirana on 12\u00a0November 1987.<\/p>\n Lasgush Poradeci is the author of two extraordinary collections of poetry. Vallja e yjve<\/em> (The dance of the stars) and Ylli i zemr\u00ebs <\/em>(The star of the heart), published in Romania in 1933 and 1937 respectively, are indeed just as much a revolution in Albanian verse as was Migjeni\u2019s Vargjet e lira <\/em>(Free verse). Vallja e yjve <\/em>was published at the Albania Press in Constanza from funds collected in 1932 with the help of Asdreni and a group of Albanian students in Bucharest. It contains verse first written and published in the years 1921-1924. The second volume, published with the assistance of Poradeci\u2019s friend, prose writer Mitrush Kuteli, contains not only later work but also many of the poems of the 1933 edition in amended versions. It is a synthesis of the best of his lyric production and offers some of the most melodious and metrically refined poetry ever written in Albanian.<\/p>\n Poradeci\u2019s position in Albanian literature has never been satisfactorily defined. He had little in common with his contemporaries: the romantic Asdreni, the political Fan Noli or the messianic Migjeni. He imbued Albanian letters with a quite exotic element of pantheistic mysticism, introducing what he called the metaphysics of creative harmony. What other Albanian poet of his period would have devoted his energy to the study of Sanskrit in order to comprehend the Veda? Poradeci\u2019s verse creates a metaphysical bridge from the psychic states and trying moods of earthly existence to the lofty spheres of the sublime, to the source of all creative energy.<\/p>\n Primordial to the work of Lasgush Poradeci are the waters of Lake Ohrid on the Albanian-Macedonian border. It was in the town of Pogradec that he spent his youth, not far from where, at the foot of the \u2018Mal i That\u00eb\u2019 (Dry Mountain), the River Drin takes its source, and but a few kilometers from the famed mediaeval monastery of St Naum\u2019s just over the border. And there in retirement, he also spent his last summers in a run-down little house of Balkan architecture, tending his garden and strolling along the lake with his dog. Lake Ohrid never ceased to fascinate and enchant him. He studied its hues, the reflection of light both upon its waves and in the depths of its sparkling waters, and observed the surrounding mountains cast their shadows over it.<\/p>\n Apart from the two main poetry collections of the thirties, Poradeci published some verse in literary journals of the late thirties and forties, in particular in Branko Merxhani\u2019s cultural monthly P\u00ebrpjekja shqiptare <\/em>(The Albanian endeavour). With the rise of Stalinism, however, the venerable quill of Lasgush, as he was to be affectionately known to posterity, began to run dry. Though secretly lauded by many a critic and connoisseur, this romantic aesthete, devoid of any redeeming ideological values, never enjoyed the approbation of post-war Marxist dogmatists. They were not able to understand his works and the poet himself is reported to have preferred to break his pencil in two rather than write the kind of poetry \u2018they\u2019 wanted. A few works did appear from time to time in the Tirana literary periodicals Drita <\/em>(The light) and N\u00ebntori <\/em>(November), carefully perused beforehand by party censors, but Poradeci\u2019s main field of activity in the socialist period was, nolens volens, translation, a safer haven for literary heretics.<\/p>\n Aside from verse on nature and that in a metaphysical vein, reworked and republished in numerous versions, Poradeci was also the author of much love poetry, as well as of some verse on national themes, all in all about one hundred poems. He loved archaic words and expressions but also delighted in neologisms and a novel juxtaposing of substantives to create unusual effects. The result was startling, breathtaking at the time, and he was immediately acclaimed. The age of romantic nationalism, which had been fostered by a myriad of Rilindja poets of varying quality, had now drawn to a definitive close.<\/p>\n Poradeci\u2019s subjects, his structures and language were very much attuned to southern Albanian oral literature, in particular to Tosk folk verse from which he drew a good deal of his inspiration. Mitrush Kuteli, who edited his Ylli i zemr\u00ebs<\/em>, called him “the only Albanian poet to think, speak and write only in Albanian.” Lasgush Poradeci is at the same time an artist of truly European stature. He combined the verbal sensuousness of Charles Baudelaire, the aesthetic philosophy of form and the discerning elegance of Stefan George, the humanity and philosophy of Naim Frash\u00ebri, and the cosmic immortality of his master, Mihai Eminescu. Scholar Eqrem \u00c7abej said of him that he was the “poet whom Albania would one day bequeath to the world,” and although Poradeci\u2019s verse does not lend itself particularly to translation, time may prove \u00c7abej right.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Pogradec<\/strong><\/p>\n A shimmering sunset on the endless lake. Over the vast land no more sound is to be heard: The whole town, all life, retires to the realm of sleep. [Poradeci<\/em>, 1929, from the volume Vdekja e nositit<\/em>, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 67, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, <\/em>London: Forest Books 1993, p.\u00a02]<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Morning<\/strong><\/p>\n Like a spirit sombre within the breast I watch how she suffers, how she dies, But now the light of dawn Behold, day has dawned, [M\u00ebngjes<\/em>, from the volume Vdekja e nositit<\/em>, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 81, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, <\/em>London: Forest Books 1993, p.\u00a03]<\/p>\n <\/p>\n End of autumn<\/strong><\/p>\n The last stork flew off, majestic and forlorn, No longer does the fateful bird comb the ploughed fields, Beneath the icy wind, the hoary earth lies silent, Oh, how graceful was the stork, how slender and noble, [Mbarim vjeshte<\/em>, from the volume Vdekja e nositit<\/em>, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 83, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, <\/em>London: Forest Books 1993, p.\u00a04]<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Winter<\/strong><\/p>\n From today my spirit is a recluse, Slowly my spirit too sinks to the ground In such peace and tranquillity [Dim\u00ebr<\/em>, from the volume Vdekja e nositit<\/em>, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 84, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, <\/em>London: Forest Books 1993, p.\u00a05]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Lasgush Poradeci (1899-1987) had lived the final years of his life in his beloved town of Pogradec on Lake Ohrid, not far from the Macedonian border, tending his garden and studying the ever-changing moods of the lake. The rhythmic and gentle lapping of the waves had always been among the fundamental sources of his pantheistic […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[70],"tags":[66],"class_list":["post-907","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-albanian-authors","tag-classical-authors-19th-early-20th-centuries"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=907"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":908,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/907\/revisions\/908"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=907"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=907"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/en.shqipopedia.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nGhostlike, a veil is slowly spread.
\nOver mountain and meadow the dark of night descends,
\nSettling from the heavens upon the town.<\/p>\n
\nIn the village the creaking of a door,
\nOn the lake the silence of an oar.
\nOver the Mal i That\u00eb an elusive eagle soars.
\nMy youthful heart retreats into the depths of my soul.<\/p>\n
\nDarkness rules the four quarters of the earth. And now,
\nSetting out on his journey through Albania,
\nLegendary Father Drin arises at St. Naum’s.<\/p>\n
\nLies the lake encased in hills.
\nMirrored in its depths,
\nNight expires breath by breath.<\/p>\n
\nHer eyes blinking,
\nAzure-circled pools,
\nLike the stars of a fading sky.<\/p>\n
\nShimmers deep within the lake.
\nThe daystar steals away, melting
\nLike a piece of sugar candy.<\/p>\n
\nAnd lightning flashes from the depths.
\nLike a harbinger of morn
\nAppears, bird-white, a pelican.<\/p>\n
\nSoaring over the snowy mountains at the break of day,
\nAfter tapping on the door with his sturdy beak,
\nLeaving his nest to the master’s care and departing heavy of heart.<\/p>\n
\nThe furrows cut into the soil by mountain oxen,
\nNo longer is the grey mouse heard scurrying over fallow land,
\nIn the barren brake the speckled snake is dead.<\/p>\n
\nThe north wind howls through the withered trees.
\nAs the cold grips harder, a clever little wren
\nChatters blithely over hedge and over sedge.<\/p>\n
\nPacing slowly like a bridegroom crowned!
\nAt his side, with radiant breast, the crane,
\nWith measured step, eyes uplifted – played his bride!<\/p>\n
\nAnd banished is all my joy.
\nLong has it been that snow has lain
\nOver mountain and over wood.
\nSnowflakes come drifting one by one
\nDown upon the deserted village
\nAnd, shivering beneath the snow,
\nEarth slumbers, buried once again.<\/p>\n
\nIn mourning, falling like a leaf.
\nNary a soul is to be heard,
\nNo people, no sign of life.<\/p>\n
\nI hear a bird lament,
\nLetting out a faint sigh,
\nFrightened to leave this life.<\/p>\n