Poeżija u Informazzjoni - Poetry & Information
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  • Kondor (The Condor)

    Posted on March 29th, 2009 Admin No comments

    Qalb l-Andes timraħ fejn l-imrieżaq
    munqarek ikebbsu bid-dija.
    Il-granit sħiħ jirfdek
    meta ġwejnħek fuq l-arja ma jperpirx.
    Taħtek mudlama l-ħniedaq jittewbu.
    Iswed bellusi l-pjum li jlibbsek,
    ta’l-irġejjen satin, ta’l-irġejjen li jsaltnu.
    Munqarek ħabbar id-dija tal-għodwa,
    għajnejk bid-dawl imkebbsa.
    Difrejk milwija ttemprati
    bil-mola tal-kefrija misnuna.
    Tixhed il-ħruxija ħarstek imqita
    bla liġi, bla morali, bla ktajjen.
    Il-ħelsien ta’l-ajru jbaħbħek fi ħdanu
    u l-jasar taċ-ċokon ma jtifsikx.
    Id-dlam għalik mhux nassa minsuba
    b’elf xedaq imġewwaħ, b’elf xedaq.
    Kemm tiswa ta’ moħħok il-ħila,
    il-qawwa tas-sinsla,
    tad-dgħif,
    ħadd ma jistaqsi.
    Int alla li ma tridx minn allat oħra.

    You roam the Andes
    where the morning rays kindle your beak.
    The solid granite supports you
    when your wings do not flail the air.
    Below you yawn the dark chasms.
    The plumes that cover you are silky black
    like the satin of queens.
    Your beak heralds the coming of dawn
    and your eyes are kindled by the sunlight.
    Your curled and tempered talons
    are whetted on the grinding stone of cruelty.
    Your ruthlessness is betrayed by your defiant look,
    lawless, amoral and untrammelled.
    The freedom of the sky bathes you in it;
    no limitation hampers you.
    For you darkness is not a snare
    hiding a thousand hungry jaws.
    Nobody seeks to know your acumen
    and to gauge the power
    in your brawn and your backbone.
    Your are a god that needs no other god.

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