“Mënyra se si largohesh nga dhoma / më tregon më shumë për ty / sesa fjalët që thua kur qëndron.” (The way you leave the room / tells me more about you / than the words you speak when you stay.)
Artan smiled sadly. He added it to his notebook, between a poem about a child’s first laugh and another about bread fresh from the oven. poezi lirike te shkurtra
Each poem was no longer than four lines. “Mënyra se si largohesh nga dhoma / më
He left the notebook there. Anyone could take it. But no one did. Instead, they began writing new ones on the back of the program. The poems grew, not in length, but in number. He left the notebook there
That night, Artan did not read a long lecture or a famous sonnet. He read only the short lyric poems. One by one. Like small mirrors held up to small, honest truths. When he finished, he placed the notebook on a table and said:
Every morning, before opening the shop, Artan would read one. Today’s was: