{"id":39612,"date":"2019-03-24T07:58:32","date_gmt":"2019-03-24T06:58:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.fjala.info\/?p=39612"},"modified":"2019-03-24T08:00:35","modified_gmt":"2019-03-24T07:00:35","slug":"dr-gjeke-marinaj-i-fshehur-ne-driten-e-mendimeve","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jehonashqiptare.al\/fjala\/dr-gjeke-marinaj-i-fshehur-ne-driten-e-mendimeve\/","title":{"rendered":"Dr. Gjek\u00eb Marinaj: I fshehur n\u00eb drit\u00ebn e mendimeve"},"content":{"rendered":"

DEKODIMI I 22 POEZIVE T\u00cb GJEK\u00cb MARINAJ<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Gjek\u00eb Marinaj<\/strong><\/p>\n

Thank you, Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya!<\/strong><\/h3>\n

T\u00eb dashur miq,<\/p>\n

Kur takoj nj\u00eb koleg p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb n\u00ebp\u00ebr konferenca shkencore apo letrare, vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr pak minuta, dhe kat\u00ebr vjet m\u00eb von\u00eb m\u00eb mban\u00eb mend emrin, ndjehem v\u00ebrtet i lumtur. Kur takoj dik\u00eb n\u00eb evenimente t\u00eb tilla p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb, vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr pak minuta, dhe kat\u00ebr vjet m\u00eb von\u00eb ai apo ajo m\u00eb dhuron nj\u00eb lib\u00ebr, I g\u00ebzohem shum\u00eb suksesit t\u00eb autorit. Por nuk m\u00eb ndodh shpesh q\u00eb t\u00eb takoj p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb, vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr pak minuta, nj\u00eb Doktor n\u00eb Filozofi, Studiues dhe shkrimtar t\u00eb famsh\u00ebm bot\u00ebror, q\u00eb pas kat\u00ebr vjet\u00ebsh t\u00eb m\u00eb japin n\u00eb dor\u00eb librin e tij, por q\u00eb ky lib\u00ebr \u00ebsht\u00eb nj\u00eb zb\u00ebrthim shkencor i poezis\u00eb time q\u00eb ka emrin tim dhe fotografin\u00eb time n\u00eb ballin\u00eb. Ky njeri i madh \u00ebsht\u00eb Dr. Prof. Ramesh Mukhopadhyaya. Ngaq\u00eb fuqia e fjal\u00ebve p\u00ebr t\u00eb shprehur mir\u00ebnjohjen time ndaj tij \u00ebsht\u00eb e kufizuar, ju lutem m\u00eb ndihmoni ta uroj p\u00ebr pun\u00ebn e tij kolosale n\u00eb dekodimin e jasht\u00ebzakonsh\u00ebm shkencor t\u00eb poezis\u00eb time n\u00eb k\u00ebt\u00eb lib\u00ebr. P\u00ebr m\u00eb tej, me lejen e tij, po v\u00eb k\u00ebtu ballin\u00ebn dhe hyrjen e librit. Ndjehem me shum\u00eb fat q\u00eb ju, miqt\u00eb e mi, e kuptoni se libri \u00ebsht\u00eb i tij dhe se \u00e7do koment apo vler\u00ebsim i takon atij e jo mua. Ju fal\u00ebnderoj p\u00ebr miq\u00ebsin\u00eb shum\u00eb t\u00eb \u00e7mua q\u00eb mbani me mua.<\/em><\/p>\n

B\u1ea1n th\u00e2n m\u1ebfn,<\/p>\n

T\u00f4i c\u1ea3m th\u1ea5y th\u1ef1c s\u1ef1 h\u1ea1nh ph\u00fac khi l\u1ea7n \u0111\u1ea7u ti\u00ean g\u1eb7p \u0111\u1ed3ng nghi\u1ec7p trong c\u00e1c h\u1ed9i th\u1ea3o khoa h\u1ecdc ho\u1eb7c c\u00e1c s\u1ef1 ki\u1ec7n v\u0103n h\u1ecdc, ch\u1ec9 trong v\u00e0i ph\u00fat, v\u00e0 b\u1ed1n n\u0103m sau ng\u01b0\u1eddi \u1ea5y v\u1eabn nh\u1edb t\u00ean t\u00f4i. Khi t\u00f4i g\u1eb7p ai \u0111\u00f3 t\u1ea1i c\u00e1c s\u1ef1 ki\u1ec7n nh\u01b0 v\u1eady l\u1ea7n \u0111\u1ea7u ti\u00ean c\u0169ng ch\u1ec9 trong v\u00e0i ph\u00fat, v\u00e0 b\u1ed1n n\u0103m sau anh ho\u1eb7c ch\u1ecb \u1ea5y \u0111\u01b0a cho t\u00f4i cu\u1ed1n s\u00e1ch, t\u00f4i r\u1ea5t vui m\u1eebng v\u00ec th\u00e0nh c\u00f4ng c\u1ee7a t\u00e1c gi\u1ea3. Nh\u01b0ng \u0111i\u1ec1u \u1ea5y ch\u01b0a bao gi\u1edd x\u1ea3y ra v\u1edbi t\u00f4i tr\u01b0\u1edbc \u0111\u00e2y. Nh\u01b0ng l\u1ea7n \u0111\u1ea7u ti\u00ean, g\u1eb7p t\u00f4i ch\u1ec9 trong v\u00e0i ph\u00fat, Ti\u1ebfn s\u0129 Tri\u1ebft h\u1ecdc – nh\u00e0 nghi\u00ean c\u1ee9u – nh\u00e0 v\u0103n n\u1ed5i ti\u1ebfng, ng\u01b0\u1eddi sau b\u1ed1n n\u0103m g\u1eb7p l\u1ea1i t\u00f4i (\u1edf Vi\u1ec7t Nam) \u0111\u00e3 t\u1eb7ng t\u00f4i cu\u1ed1n s\u00e1ch c\u1ee7a \u00f4ng \u1ea5y, kh\u00f4ng ph\u1ea3i b\u1ea5t k\u1ef3 t\u00e1c ph\u1ea9m n\u00e0o, m\u00e0 ch\u00ednh l\u00e0 cu\u1ed1n s\u00e1ch gi\u1ea3i m\u00e3 thi ph\u00e1p th\u01a1 c\u1ee7a t\u00f4i, c\u00f3 t\u00ean v\u00e0 h\u00ecnh \u1ea3nh c\u1ee7a t\u00f4i b\u00ean c\u1ea1nh t\u00ean c\u1ee7a \u00f4ng tr\u00ean trang b\u00eca. Ng\u01b0\u1eddi \u0111\u00e0n \u00f4ng tuy\u1ec7t v\u1eddi n\u00e0y l\u00e0 Ti\u1ebfn s\u0129 – Gi\u00e1o s\u01b0 Ramesh Mukhopadhyaya. B\u1edfi kh\u1ea3 n\u0103ng h\u1ea1n h\u1eb9p c\u1ee7a ng\u00f4n ng\u1eef kh\u00f3 c\u00f3 th\u1ec3 bi\u1ec3u c\u1ea3m h\u1ebft l\u00f2ng bi\u1ebft \u01a1n c\u1ee7a t\u00f4i t\u1edbi \u00f4ng, xin c\u00e1c b\u1ea1n h\u00e3y gi\u00fap t\u00f4i ch\u00fac m\u1eebng \u00f4ng \u1ea5y v\u00ec c\u00f4ng vi\u1ec7c to l\u1edbn, \u0111\u00f3 l\u00e0 gi\u1ea3i m\u00e3 thi ph\u00e1p ph\u1ee9c t\u1ea1p c\u1ee7a th\u01a1 t\u00f4i. \u0110\u01b0\u1ee3c \u00f4ng \u1ea5y cho ph\u00e9p, t\u00f4i xin \u0111\u0103ng l\u00ean \u0111\u00e2y trang b\u00eca v\u00e0 l\u1eddi gi\u1edbi thi\u1ec7u cu\u1ed1n s\u00e1ch c\u1ee7a \u00f4ng \u1ea5y. T\u00f4i c\u1ea3m th\u1ea5y r\u1ea5t may m\u1eafn khi b\u1ea1n, c\u0169ng nh\u01b0 nh\u1eefng ng\u01b0\u1eddi b\u1ea1n th\u00e2n y\u00eau c\u1ee7a t\u00f4i hi\u1ec3u r\u1eb1ng, cu\u1ed1n s\u00e1ch n\u00e0y ch\u1ec9 c\u00f3 m\u1ed9t m\u00ecnh \u00f4ng \u1ea5y \u0111\u00e3 vi\u1ebft nh\u1eefng l\u1eddi b\u00ecnh ch\u00fa t\u00edch c\u1ef1c. V\u00e0 l\u1eddi ch\u00fac m\u1eebng ch\u00e2n th\u00e0nh d\u00e0nh cho \u00f4ng \u1ea5y n\u00ean l\u00e0 c\u1ee7a b\u1ea1n ch\u1ee9 kh\u00f4ng ph\u1ea3i t\u00f4i. T\u00f4i c\u1ea3m \u01a1n b\u1ea1n v\u00ec t\u00ecnh b\u1ea1n v\u00f4 c\u00f9ng qu\u00fd gi\u00e1 \u0111\u00e3 \u0111\u1ed3ng h\u00e0nh c\u00f9ng t\u00f4i tr\u00ean facebook n\u00e0y.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

INTRODUCTION <\/strong><\/p>\n

By Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya<\/strong><\/p>\n

Heisenberg\u2019s theory of indeterminacy presumes that electrons, the basic constituents of the multiverse, are, at their core, random. They have no pattern. So chances and accidents are perhaps recurrent phenomena in human life. There is love at first sight and hatred at first sight. And one cannot guess which seed grows and which seed does not. But every meeting may have great promise.<\/p>\n

I met poet Gjek\u00eb Marinaj at the Asia Pacific Poetry Meet in Vietnam in 2015. When I asked if he writes poetry, he presented me with a sheaf of his poems, and then vanished among the crowd of poets gathered in the Army Hotel in Hanoi. I was taken by surprise with the gift of poems. Ordinarily, poets present fellow poets and readers with their books, but here were typed manuscripts handed over without much ado. For a week or so, I found Marinaj moving about with youthful vivacity, meeting poets in the crowd. One afternoon we met, and he told me that he propounded an aesthetic of his own called Protonism Theory. For him, every poem is an atom, complete in itself. And why did he preach Protonism? He told me that he was concerned with the literary criticism of the Balkans, and that present-day critics have crossed the barriers of morality and revel in frank sensuousness. Marinaj\u2019s Protonism Theory seeks to change this unruly behavior of poetry. He appears to be a leader who dares to stand against the fashion of the day. It simply shows that, like Marinaj, poets should be teachers.<\/p>\n

Intertextuality and intersubjectivity can be espied among the myriad of texts. Each text is complete in itself, despite being unknowingly connected with others. This is because we learn language from society and elsewhere. Leave a child penned up in a room away from human society: Will he ever learn to speak a language? No. And if we go deeper, string theory (\u201cthe theory of everything\u201d) comes to our aid. Everything is a string, and they are being played. String theory looks upon existence as a cosmic symphony. Where is the room in this symphony for a poem to become exclusive and complete in itself? Each poem on the surface is unique. Every poet on the surface is distinct from others. Difference is the important part of creation.<\/p>\n

And how does Marinaj look upon creation? It is simply a crowd of horses: \u201cThrough all our lives we are on the go, looking always forward. What\u2019s behind we are afraid to know.\u201d All of us are nameless. This puts in our minds the second law of thermodynamics: Energy is never at rest. It is ever on the move toward an indeterminate future. If existence were interpreted as countless horses ever on the move with no respite, this is a dull world. But Marinaj used the imagery to depict what man has made of man. He distinguishes one horse from another. There is the king\u2019s horse and there is the horse that a princess rides. Marinaj portrays a society where most of the people are horses. They are dehumanized. The poem took Albania by storm. The rulers were planning to kill him for disobedience. He might have been tied to the hind legs of a running horse. But I wonder whether the kings and princesses who ride the horses are horses themselves, because they are also running, impelled by their greed and innate perversion.<\/p>\n

Marinaj crossed the border of Albania, and now finds himself \u201ccarrying bits of sluggish hopes on a journey of no return.\u201d Think of a band of bohemians marching along. They look like wagons of light. Refugees, people driven away from their homes, are a common sight everywhere in the world. The establishment of English poetry, be it Romantic, Victorian, or Modern, does not notice these refugees who move about in the wide sea of existence without direction, without any help. Even when refugees are depicted, they look like zombies, or dead men and women marching along the street of a metropolis, unmindful of the show on either side of the street. But with Marinaj, each one of the refugees is a discrete wagon of light. And this dismal situation cannot rob the refugees of their wealth of poetry. Marinaj has been a poet since his childhood, and he observes that these refugees fashion necklaces from the dreams of their soft-skinned maidens. Buttons of sad purple silence unfasten the cares that turned to poetry in the hearts of young women. Poetry has been described in one thousand and one ways. But I never looked upon poetry as dreams of maidens before reading Marinaj. His poetry is a new experience. Tossed by the waves of life, Marinaj reaches the shores of the United States, and he mumbles:<\/p>\n

For us who keep equating patient with hope,
\nmorning is something like balm\u2026
\nWe inhale with the ease of saplings in a warm breeze
\nand fill our half-rotten lungs with hope.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Marinaj\u2019s poems are unique as they give a voice to the predicament of the refugees. Refugees are a phenomenon in the world. The poor fellows \u2014 sociologists, economists, politicians \u2014 have become old overnight, brooding over how to help them. But no one in the world of literature has given a voice to their hopes and despairs as Marinaj has. He observes that the twentieth century resurrected miraculous battlegrounds bloodied with viciousness.<\/p>\n

Marinaj portrays war in most realistic terms. You cannot help but refer to his poem Bosnia 1995 to illustrate this point.<\/p>\n

At close range \u2014 flesh on fire
\nAt a distance \u2014 word silent
\nAlongside sound-scorched
\nInside tear-torn
\nFrom on high badly seen
\nFrom beneath badly slain
\nHalf of it slobbering senseless
\nThe other half bleeding senseless
\nThe Bosnians\u2019 life \u2014
\nTheir last bullet.
\nThe United Nations
\nEver-open grave traps.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is a cubist image of war, and reminds one of Guernica. The same event has been depicted simultaneously from numerous angles.
\nBut on another level, with the advent of the twenty-first century, development has caused every man to lose his stake. There is no sense of security. Every man is a Bedouin, moving from pillar to post for survival. Now in Japan, then transferred to California. Marinaj is perhaps the only poet of our time who describes this predicament of modern man. On the third level, Marinaj\u2019s poems seem to dwell on the Odysseus theme. Every day pushed Marinaj further from the world of yesterday. In his loneliness, he is still aware of life burning in him like a cigarette.<\/p>\n

Finally, like floating seaweed, Marinaj reaches the shores of America.
\nHow is he here in America? We might look at him doubtfully. Has he not abandoned his hearth and home and every belonging in quest of the golden city? Marinaj tells us:<\/p>\n

Friends, pals,
\nWhy do you look at me like that?
\nI know.
\nMy past is one long adventure.
\nBut I had nothing to lose
\nGoing to America.
\nIn America
\nI could lose everything.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Please note the paradox here. If Marinaj had a lot of wealth and belongings in Albania, he might have lost them in his efforts to conquer El Dorado. But the kings and princes of Albania outlawed him. So he had nothing to lose in America.<\/p>\n

But however much he has in America, the Albanian heart throbs in him, the Albanian blood flows through his veins. That is why, during my first meeting with Marinaj, he told me that he was concerned with the poetry of the Balkan states, and especially Albania. Marinaj addresses his motherland:<\/p>\n

You, dear land
\nAre the grove of my dreams, asleep and awake,
\nYou are the rainbow that colors the meanings
\nOf my mother\u2019s tears.
\nYou are the banister I take hold of to keep
\nFrom falling into a world of tiresome vulgarities.
\nYou are the substance that brings and takes away pain.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

One wonders whether Marinaj\u2019s poetry could be described as a quest for home and Albania. Will he ever go back to Albania? But that is a different question, and it has nothing to do with literary criticism.<\/p>\n

We agree with Roland Barthes. We know that the author is dead. Man is a metaphysical animal. He always seeks to remove the veil of the contingency, here woven with words, to see the man behind it. The owl crows, \u201cWho? Who? Who?\u201d If I misunderstood it for a man, I might kneel down in fear on a street and say, \u201cI am Ramesh from Calcutta, India.\u201d But if I knew that it is in fact an owl, I would not kneel, and I would not respond to his calls. Being a reader or a listener, I can only respond to the voice of another man. And I cannot but reconstruct the man from the voice. We have tried to reconstruct the poet from the few poems that we have at hand. This is a human frailty. But after all, this is human.<\/p>\n

So the hazy yet bright figure of Marinaj the poet is in front of our eyes. Hidden in the light of thought, he sings freely. All deep things are songs. And the poems of Marinaj are too deep for tears. They are songs nevertheless. True, a thing of beauty or a song baffles analysis. There is human frailty again. We cannot but try to decode their meanings, however opaque they might be. Man is an animal who seeks meaning in everything. Hence, we have dared to explicate a few poems composed by Marinaj.<\/p>\n

Dear readers, here is a word or two about the methodology of reading the poems of Marinaj, which I hope will not be out of place. The text of the poems is, after all, animated. He does not take into account any extra-textual data for understanding the poems. The contexts of the poems are argued from the poems themselves. In other words, the context of the poems has been examined. Unlike paintings that manifest themselves in space, poetry manifests itself in time. So, here we have moved from one word to another and from one image to another and from one stanza to another. In other words, the reader walks along a road made of variegated pebbles of words. No two pebbles are the same. And the reader, like a child, picks up a pebble of a motif here and another pebble of a poetic turn there.<\/p>\n

Ambiguity is an essential part of any language. No wonder, therefore, that any poem could be interpreted on n levels. And there could be no single meaning of any poem. In the explications of Marinaj\u2019s poems that follow this introduction, you will find that often the meaning of a poem has been put forward simultaneously on different levels.<\/p>\n

Language comes first and ideas follow. Hence, the world is created with language. Since language is at the base, ambiguous are the sights and sounds of existence, and capable of having meaning of numerous levels. Each poet seeks to decode the ambiguity of existence in his own language. And every reader seeks to decode the poems on a few levels. Does the poet mean anything through his poems? Does the bird\/lyrical poet know what he or she sings or why he or she sings? As long as a poem is not published, it might be the personal possession of the poet himself. But once it is published, it is something that is part of the world. The self is there, transferred into the magic world of the non-self.<\/p>\n

Thus, when a poem is published, it is like a table or a chair or a plant or a flower belonging to the world. And whoever comes by them is at liberty to explain them in their own way, no matter the motive of the creator or the poet. So where is the text? The text is not there in the published material. The text is in the reader\u2019s mind, and there are as many texts of one primordial text as there are readers. That is how, perhaps, the seamless one multiplies into many. The explication of the Marinaj\u2019s poems does not unearth any conclusive meanings of the poems. My fellow readers are welcome to add their own levels of meanings.<\/p>\n

In fact, what we are about is readers\u2019 aesthetics. There has been a Copernican revolution in our perception of poetry. The poet is no longer at the center of the universe of a poem. It is the reader who is at the center instead. And since a poem, however small, is a universe on its own, it is infinite, and it could have many readers as centers. In short, there cannot be any bureaucracy in the world of literature. Our Marinaj also detests bureaucracy. He observes in his satirical vein that the bureaucrats soar to the heights little by little. Some not so far, others as high as an aircraft far removed from the masses.<\/p>\n

According to Indian aesthetics, the pleasure of reading the text is not in the text itself. The pleasure of reading the text is in the heart of the reader. The words of the text provoke the reader to derive delight from the reader\u2019s own being. And of course, the reader reads his own mind in any text.<\/p>\n

This logically leads us to focus on the reader. I am an Indian by birth and upbringing. I read these poems in the light of Indian philosophy. And in the explication of the poems, this Indian reader, to his great delight and surprise, finds important identities between the philosophical undertones of Marinaj\u2019s poetry and the most vital strains of ancient Indian philosophy. Is this an accident or a coincidence? No. Marinaj is aware of every word he writes.When imagery is found in two literatures generated by two different cultures at two different times, the imagery is surely archetypal. Do not the archetypes speak of a collective mind that transcends the Id, Ego, and Superego of individual minds? It\u2019s true that on the surface each one of us is a discrete island.<\/p>\n

But when we are left alone to ourselves in the edge of silence, the poems written by Marinaj from different cultures and climates and sound like the nightingale that reminds us of our past. Maybe we were once upon a time organic parts of a continent called humanity. With the advent of technology and development, the self and the other have come to the foreground. There is a difference between man and man, between one country and another, between one culture and another, and between man and nature. We are thrilled to find the trees stretching their roots into Marinaj\u2019s heart. In the face of the attempts at destroying nature globally, Marinaj protects the roots of the trees, keeping them in his heart and pumping blood into them from his ventricles. This is imagery, and ecocriticism that inspects the relation of a poem with the nonhuman environment might find triumphs of ideal poetic art. But this is not all. The nature depicted by Marinaj is not the nature warmed up with the Gulf Stream or chilled by Labrador (Newfoundland Peninsula).<\/p>\n

The melancholy notes of the North Sea that are characteristic of Anglo-Saxon literature are bypassed in Marinaj\u2019s poetry. He often mingles with nature the way a man hugs his woman, and nature delineated by Marinaj reminds us of the hills and dales of Albania, hugged by Mediterranean climate. The poetry of Marinaj breathes intense love for the wife, the mother, the sister, and the children, who are pearls in a necklace of future civilization, a civilization yet to be born. They remind us of Albanian culture. The hero in an Albanian epic refused to marry any woman from his community only because every maiden in his community was his sister. Thus, it seems that English poetry has stretched its roots into Marinaj\u2019s heart. He protects it and pumps the blood of Albanian culture into the veins of English poetry. This is how the English poetry of Marinaj is quite different from the English poetry of the establishment.<\/p>\n

There was a saint in India who gave up his life for the benefit of the gods. The gods forged thunder from the bones of the dead saint. And with that thunder the gods destroyed demons. Marinaj is also bent on forging arrows from his bones to outdo the demons of the world today.<\/p>\n

The poetry of Marinaj has never been attempted in English prose or rhymes. The explications of the poems that follow this essay are case studies that illustrate my points.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

DEKODIMI I 22 POEZIVE T\u00cb GJEK\u00cb MARINAJ Gjek\u00eb Marinaj Thank you, Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya! T\u00eb dashur miq, Kur takoj nj\u00eb koleg p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb n\u00ebp\u00ebr konferenca shkencore apo letrare, vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr pak minuta, dhe kat\u00ebr vjet m\u00eb von\u00eb m\u00eb mban\u00eb mend emrin, ndjehem v\u00ebrtet i lumtur. Kur takoj dik\u00eb n\u00eb evenimente t\u00eb tilla […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":39613,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,8,10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-39612","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-artikuj","category-letersi","category-poezi"],"yoast_head":"\nDr. Gjek\u00eb Marinaj: I fshehur n\u00eb drit\u00ebn e mendimeve - FJALA e LIR\u00cb<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/jehonashqiptare.al\/fjala\/dr-gjeke-marinaj-i-fshehur-ne-driten-e-mendimeve\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Dr. Gjek\u00eb Marinaj: I fshehur n\u00eb drit\u00ebn e mendimeve - FJALA e LIR\u00cb\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"DEKODIMI I 22 POEZIVE T\u00cb GJEK\u00cb MARINAJ Gjek\u00eb Marinaj Thank you, Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya! T\u00eb dashur miq, Kur takoj nj\u00eb koleg p\u00ebr her\u00eb t\u00eb par\u00eb n\u00ebp\u00ebr konferenca shkencore apo letrare, vet\u00ebm p\u00ebr pak minuta, dhe kat\u00ebr vjet m\u00eb von\u00eb m\u00eb mban\u00eb mend emrin, ndjehem v\u00ebrtet i lumtur. 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