The Flute

A Aleksandër Stavre Drenova Aleksandër Stavre Drenova
0 Altın Yaprak
Oh flute, I worship you with faith and longing For I was raised, the consort of your trill divine from the time I was a lad, You poured dew into my soul, At the height of my joy, my feelings merged in a tenderness rare. With you I felt an unslaked sense Of love for Albanian soil Which remains day after day in my dreams, When your sounds, the treasures of the past, Traverse my mind like a summer's breeze And with deep ecstasy. When you speak to me and fill me, Unending voices echo and swell In waves like a chorus of angels, Companions of the peaks, streams and hills, From your lips flit fairies As if from some majestic palace. Like starlight and moonbeams in longing, Sparkling on the surface of the lake, I quiver like a lover, As your words, harbingers of a message From the Earthly Beauty, with fair tones, offer us a breath of spring. Like the season which begins to blossom, Unfolding its wide wings within our bosom To give us strength and divine grace, So do you lend the world a new face And create around us a joyous choir When your notes traverse the scales. With you does the shepherd climb to the mountain pastures Moved by your magic melodies, Your every fire melts his heart, With you do young lads take to the dance, Thrilled by your sacred songs of love Welling anew within their breasts. Like tender leaves quivering in the wind Which in their rustling strike up a song In perfect harmony, Whosoever hears your chant Recalls forgotten memories Like a symphony from the heavens. The farmer bent behind his plough Or scything ripened sheaves of grain Knows not why he slaves, Yet with you all his hardship dissolves As his thirst abates when he scoops And drinks the waters of mountain springs. From ancient times our ancestors Bore you in their belts, sabres brandished, Singing their fiery songs And spreading courage in the thick of battle, Always were they rewarded for their toil, As was the legendary Alexander. With you did the goddess Minerva While away the hours in delight, Up on flashing Olympia And the nymphs around her like tiny stars In the rhythmic pacing of the dance Teased jealous Bacchus. Virgil, master and famed singer Of ancient times, and Mozart - With you, they built their sacred altars, With you do nations dream, Nourished on lofty ideals From a healing source. So many others have followed, As new tokens of progress, Which no one on earth can oppose, To you, poets will always weave hymns, For with your strength and courage, magic flute, You soar above them all.

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