Greeting message from Migjeni's 1937
Dear friend, I usually do not write wishes, either for Christmas or for Bajram (1), or on the occasion of birthdays or other such festivities. I do not write them, because the wishes that are made these days only come to one percent, since they are almost all the result of hypocrisy.
And everyone knows it, but they still write good wishes. I have never wished anyone a happy new year so far. But this time I want to behave like a good person, and wish my friends a happy 1937.
First of all, dear friend, I wish you peaceful sleep: let your ears not hear the groans of the human being under the weight of their own cross, nor its triumphant shouts. Who do not feel the thunder coming from Spain. Sweet sleep!
May you not feel your teeth grinding against the cold. Because otherwise you should ask: o dente, why do you hit the other tooth and make a lot of noise? And instead of a tooth, your tongue would answer you: because it's cold, sir, and when it's cold, the devil enters the body, the muscles, the nerves, sir, and that's why the teeth also tremble. It is too trivial to tell you that clothes, shoes, and fire are missing, therefore: sweet sleep, dear friend.
Secondly, after a good night's sleep, I wish you - as is also natural - to be happy, always happy. Of immense happiness, in full feeling, of kissing the walls of the house, as does Greta Garbo in the film "La regina Cristina", when she feels an animal love (I meant divine, but it is the same). So happy, that the world envies you, and say: oh, how happy it is!
To be happy even if, on the other hand, your heart breaks, like clowns. Happy to the point that your happiness also gives hope to others. If the desk starts to limp, laugh. If the only chair you have at home goes down the drain and you no longer have where to sit, laugh.
If you don't have fire anymore and stay in the cold, laugh. If one day, just to say, you also miss the bread, take her laughing, throw it in a joke, and laugh, laugh. In fact, go out, go to the crossroads of the streets, and laugh, laugh, laugh, and the world will feel envy and say: oh, how happy it is! And when he comes home and sees the reason for your happiness, the world will remember himself and start laughing, ihihihahaha. Rice sickness will infect everyone, and people, like monkeys, will jump for joy. And so we hope to spend a happy 1937, even if pathologically insane.
Millosh Gjergj Nikolla (Migjeni), was born in the 1911 a Shkodër and died in the 1938 in Torre Pellice (Turin). Writer of verses and prose, he is one of the most famous Albanian intellectuals of the twentieth century.
(1) Bajram, The main Muslim festival that marks the end of Ramadan
(Editor's note) Translation by Olimpia Gargano
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