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HOPE SMILES IN CHILDREN’S HANDS

Amb. Diana Mehmeti

The city cries with a rain of sorrow,
Over the wounds of its chest, along its furrows and wrinkles.
The faces of the walls are torn by fury,
Stained with paint and handprints…

The fields whispered a secret at the end of the race: Long live the king!
Good fortune is read in silence,
The city unfolds under the birds’ song…
With the lips of the night, they have lit a fire,
The little ones dry their hopes;
The night, chaotic as madness,
Protects the city from testimony, demonic forces!

The city cries and laughs with the moon,
Rains like a bridal veil rise from the clarity of the river,
Hope trembles in the hands of children—
This fragile rain of the last night…!

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