In die Januarie/Februarie-uitgawe van World Literature Today trek ’n onderhoud met die Albaniese digteres, Luljeta Lleshanaku, my aandag. Aangesien ek nog altyd van mening is dat daar sommer heelwat ooreenstemmende kenmerke tussen ons digkuns en die Oos-Europese digkunste bestaan, begin ek lees vir toepaslike stukkies kommentaar, en ja – na aan die einde van die onderhoud (wat met haar gevoer is deur Michele Frucht Levy) antwoord sy soos volg op ’n vraag na die huidige stand van Albaniese letterkunde: “The poets of my new generation are trying to find a path between the historic reality they come from and the universal reality, where they have arrived a bit late.” In welke mate verskil óns digkuns van vóór 1994 met dié wat nou bedryf word, wonder ek vir ’n oomblik. Is daar al ooit ’n studie hieromtrent gedoen? Ek meen, die omstandighede (en uitdagings) van tóé verskil tog radikaal van die omstandighede nou, is dit nie? Maar ek lees verder: “A normal reality is a challenge for all of us. In such a situation, the selection will promote only those who are strongly individual, from the aesthetic rather than the thematic perspective, something that can really delay the presence of our (new) voices in the world book market. Small cultures, and especially small languages like Albanian, need as special stamp, a sensational element, to declare themselves, to draw some attention … That’s the destiny of small countries and small languages, where the problem of translation makes it twice as difficult to find an outside outlet. In such conditions, sometimes the promotion of an Albanian writer in the West can arise from chance more than selection.” Laat ’n mens nogal dink aan die debat betreffende vertaling en die gepaardgaande keuse van digters wat vertaal word, wat onlangs nog op hierdie webwerf gevoer is, is dit nie?
Mooi bly. En onthou om vanaand om 22:00 op RSG te luister na Vers & klank wanneer Nina Swart van haar gunstelingverse gaan voorlees … Margot Luyt is die programleier.
LE
With you
I will sit in an alcove of your mouth
As on a stone near a waterfall
Certain that the maelstrom of words will not spirit me away.I will crouch in the corner of your eye
Like a lily sprouting in the shallows near the shore
With petals tiny so as not to distract.For after all, what am I?
A frozen wave in space
Wrested from the sea of your chest,
You stretch your hands towards me in vain.[Me ty, from the volume Preludë poetike, Tirana: Naim Frashëri 1990, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]