Once survived, but…
It is said the once lived the Beauty of Soil. She sparkled herself and everything surrounding her sparkled. Her beauty could be compared neither day nor night: Come up sun to come out, come up moon to come out.
It is said that initially the Beauty of Soil was called Pellazgji. It was so magnificient, gracious and bewitching that all neighbours and the remote ones, the civilized and barbarian which knew it, fell madly in love with it. But, Pellazgjia kept standing proud in its life. It honored and respected all those which came around it without being humbled to anyone.
Thus, the barbarians became envied for its pride, values and treasures. And once they lashed out to defeat it with violence. The barbarians wrestled too long with it, abducted here and there also jeweleries and treasures pieces, however, Pellazgjia was not depress…
What remained after those predatory battles was called Illyria. Barbarians wrestled with Illyria as well, abducted other treasures, other jeweleries, but it did not gave those to them. Now they called it Arberi and it still inherited a part of the graces of the Beauty of Soil, Pellazgjise. So graceful, like all the Beauties of Soil in fairytales, although being tired by long violator wrestles, the indomitable Arbëria radiated in the eyes of barbarians which couldn’t stand the light of its civilization. And they wondered how to defeat it. And they lashed out again and again, days and nights, during winters and summers, stole their jewelry, they wounded it, bleed it, broke their limbs and despite it was becoming smaller and smaller due to violence, it still did not surrender. So small and indomitable it newly looked beautiful and radiated civilization in the eyes of barbarian enemies that wanted to undo it with every cost.
Already some called it Albany and some others Albania. Enemies always were highly vulnerable to attack it and monstrous lashed out to its beauty. The small Albania, for the vicious mind of barbarians was the former Pellazgjia which was still indomitabled by predatory violence, that’s why it must not be in peace. It must be disappeared…
This kind of Albania was or not the former Pellazgjia?!… Disputed and disputed its enemies and lashed it out to undo it in order to remain neither fame nor mole by the primeval Pellazgjia which was still vivid in Albanian’s genes…
Her enemies were now not only barbarians, but even civilized neighbors.
Even they envied those few treasures that Albania inherited by the primeval Pellazgjia…
Was or nor Pellazgjia?!… Already everything was rendered in legend. Pellazgjia, the Beauty of Soil was already a fairytale that was told to the kids during nights…
Meanwhile came out a brave man who decided to explore the legend’s areas. And looking through the difficult paths of meditation dusk of legend, as indomitable archaeologist, somebody was discovering pieces of jewelry, precious stones, diamonds and pearls, which once constituted Pellazgji treasures jewelries… Someone looking for, discovering and restoring the stolen pieces of jewelry through the centuries by Pellazgjia’s body, was able to reconstruct the profile of Albany by the Beauty of Soil…
And so the legend was slowly becoming a reality… However, this reality, though belonged to modern times, continued to be extremely disturbing for the civilized great-grandson of past barbarians…
And they, with diabolical cleverness of Odysseus great-grandfather, donated a white horse to Albanian politics, a horse of peace, seemingly, mutation of the Trojan horse… And the Albanian mutant politics saddled the white horse and was lashed to destroy Albania on behalf of his patrons… It is known that the war within a species is a more certain death… The new patrons of the Albanian oppressive policy knew this fact and the conclusion that would bring… And so, the past barbarians souls, finally could feel calm… Albania was finally coming to the end by itself Albanian politics, by the mutation of its kind…
Albania once survived, but today is dying…
Sos!… Albania is dying!…
Hey, Albania is dying!… Albanians, wake up by the death’s sleep!…
Albania is dying!…
Don’t you believe this? I am shouting because Albania, where even the death is bought and sold, is dying!… Understand me in the true meaning of the word: is dying!
Believe me! Albania and Albanians are dying! Freedom, ideals, spirit are dying!
Understand it well; my words are hopeless cry in this collective agony worse than agonies caused by the medieval European plague…
Sos! … Albania is dying! … It is dying under the illness of political plague!
The Albanian policy that is bought and sold every day to the Greek and Serbian patrons…
Sos!… Sos!… Sos!…
Don’t you believe me?! In this country, everything is bought and sold by the politics that is bought and sold itself to our traditional enemies! Everything is bought and sold by order of Berisha and Rama, by the clans of Berisha and Rama, for the clans of Berisha and Rama… In this poor country where genes, traditions and culture are demolishing, only ignorance and fear survive! And the death! … And the death! … And the death! …
I remind you that in this country where prevails the policy plague, still survives the only ideal, Chameria! But, who cares for Chameria, would say someone on the verge of the death, when Chams themselves are cooled and have turned their back to this ideal?!
Indeed, noone cares of those who experience their agony!
Hej, maybe America cares for Chameria, the same as for Kosovo, because, Albanian patriotism is dying … Albanians are dying for themselves…
Hey! In this medieval agony that has plagued modern Albania, even I try to survive… Believe me; I try very hard to survive!
And on the brink of survival, I was once reminded and I sent a message to my Cham friend, the deputy Shpëtim Idrizi: Honored, you have the great chance of the Great Era of dinosaurs to make Era! Firmly embrace the Cham ideal and save Chameria! Don’t lose this chance! My friend, Shpëtim, at least in appearance, tries to keep alive the Cham ideal, to save Chameria! Hope he will not be disposed, to be bought and sold as Albanian everything else with the order of Berisha and Rama, on behalf of the clans of Berisha and Rama!
In this country, property of God, where the policy claims the role of God, must also sell their back to be “revived” for the status of the Zombie… You have to sell it to Berisha and Rama… So want to say … Some who do not obey the policy…
Hey, Albanians, be careful! Shake your back and don’t forget that even those are the properties of God! And well aware that can’t abuse so easily with the properties of God! The properties of God can’t be bought and sold as easily even by the politics! Whether it’s the most sophisticated and devilish! …
Oh, God! Is there a God to save Albania from death, which is bought and sold as everything else with the order of Berisha and Rama? We all need a strong Albany- Albania, friends… We need because without it we will not enjoy even the bright name: Albanian!
Certainly, even Europe doesn’t need the disabled Albania! A dead Albania doesn’t serve anyone, I believe even to the sold Albanian policy… Sos!
Hey, Albanian, wake up from the death’s sleep! Arise as our ancestors Pelasgian-Illyrian that were re-born as many times like the phoenix by the ashes of its death!
Save the European Albania by the desert that the policy plague causes which is bought and sold on behalf of its patrons, owner of the white horse of death! Sos!… Sos!… Sos!…
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