Albanian

[Alboz]

National Anthem



The words were written by the Albanian poet Asdreni (1872-1947). The music was composed by the Romanian composer Ciprian Porumbescu, originally for the song "Pe-al nostru steag e scris Unire" (or "E scris pe tricolor unire").

Oath to the Flag

Around our flag we are united,
With but one will and one desire,
A sacred oath are now proclaiming
For our salvation to aspire,
May only those avoid the struggle,
Those who are traitors to our laws,
Undaunted is a hero through and through,
He dies a martyr to the cause.

With weapons in our hands a-brandished,
We will defend our fatherland,
Our sacred rights we’ll not relinquish,
The foe has no place in our land,
For God has told the world, proclaiming:
The nations of the earth shall wane,
And yet will live, will thrive Albania.
For her our fight won’t be in vain.

Our flag, our nation’s sacred symbol,
We swear an oath to your fair name,
Defend our country, our Albania,
Protect her honour and her fame,
Our praise goes to those mighty heroes
Who in our nation’s past did fall,
Their memory will be cherished evermore,
In life and death will they live all.

[Alboz]

From the poetry of Theofan Stilian Noli (1882-1965)

(Elegy written in Berlin on the death of writer and political figure Luigj Gurakuqi, 1879-1925, who had been assassinated in Bari on 2 March 1925 by an agent of Ahmet Zogu.)

Dead in exile

Oh mother, mourn our brother,
Cut down by three bullets.
They mocked him, they murdered him,
They called him traitor.

For he loved you when they hated you,
For he wept when they derided you,
For he clothed you when they denuded you,
Oh mother, he died a martyr.

Oh mother, weep bitter tears,
Thugs have slain your son
Who with Ismail Qemali
Raised the valiant standard.

Oh mother, weep for him in Vlora,
Where he bore you freedom,
A soul as pure as snow,
For whom you have no grave.

Oh mother, he did his utmost
With eloquence and heart of iron,
Alive in exile, dead in exile,
This towering liberator.

[Alboz]

Nationalist figure and guerrilla fighter, Çerçiz Topulli (1880-1915) was born in Gjirokastra. On 25 February 1908, his band killed the commander of the Turkish gendarmerie on a street in Gjirokastra. Five of Topulli’s guerrillas, himself included, then fled to the village of Mashkullore, where on 5 March they were surrounded by 150 Ottoman troops. Although they were vastly outnumbered, Topulli and his fighters managed to keep the Turks at bay from dawn until dusk and then fled into the mountains, an event which was later celebrated in folk ballads such as the following song.


February fled and March then entered.
Gjirokastra’s Turkish gendarmes
Lost their captain. Curse his surname!
With his life he paid, dishonoured.
From Janina came a soldier
To the plane of Mashkullore,
From that tree at Mashkullore,
Çerçiz spoke out in defiance:
“Draw back, sergeant, all your forces,
Let my fighters go their way now,
For these heroes will do battle,
As has been their wont and custom,
Red you’ll be, in crimson spattered.”
“Çerçiz, Hajredin was slaughtered.”
“Makes no difference that they killed him,
Listen carefully, heed me, Kapllan,
We’ll not cease retaliation
On your officers and soldiers,
Place their heads beneath our cleavers
As we thus avenged our Mother.”

[Alboz]

0:42

Gjergj Kastrioti(6 May 1405 – 17 January 1468), widely known as Skanderbeg, was a 15th-century Albanian lord.
He was appointed as the governor of the Sanjak of Dibra by the Ottoman Turks in 1440. In 1444, he initiated and organized the League of Lezhë, which proclaimed him Chief of the League of the Albanian people, and defended the region of Albania against the Ottoman Empire for more than two decades.
Skanderbeg's military skills presented a major obstacle to Ottoman expansion, and he was considered by many in western Europe to be a model of Christian resistance against the Ottoman Muslims.

1:10

Queen Teuta was an Illyrian queen of the Ardiaei tribe who reigned approximately from 231 BC to 227 BC.
Despite her ongoing acts of piracy, she is revered for her resistance and free will against her persecutors.

3:32

Ali Pasha of Tepelena or of Yannina, surnamed Aslan, "the Lion", or the "Lion of Yannina", (1740 - 24 January 1822) was an Ottoman Albanian ruler of the western part of Rumelia, the Ottoman Empire's European territory which was also called Pashalik of Yanina.

3:47

Shote Galica (1895 - 1927) was a warrior of çeta (guerrilla group, from the word Centuriae, military formation) of the Albanian insurgent national liberation with the goal of unification of all Albanian territories, and supporting a democratic national government in Albania.

Azem Galica, was an Albanian nationalist who fought for the unification of Kosovo with Albania.

4:00

Mic Sokoli (1839 - 1881) was an Albanian nationalist figure.
He was a noted guerrilla leader during the years of the League of Prizren and took part in the fighting in Yakova against Mehmet Ali Pasha.
Mic Sokoli is remembered in particular for an act that has entered the chronicles of Albanian legendry as a deed of exemplary heroism. At the battle of Slivova against Ottoman forces in April 1881, he thrust himself against a Turkish cannon, his chest pressed against its mouth, and died heroically in battle.

4:32

Pashko Vasa (1825, Shkodër, Albania, Ottoman Empire – June 29, 1892, Beirut, Lebanon, Ottoman Empire) also known as Vaso Pasha or Vaso Pashë Shkodrani, was an Albanian writer, poet and publicist of the Albanian National Awakening.

4:41

Frasheri Brothers

Abdyl Frashëri (June 1, 1839 - October 23, 1892) was a prominent Hero of Albania.
Frasheri was an Albanian Statesman, diplomat, and politician in the Ottoman Empire.
He is one of the first Albanian political ideologues of the Albanian National Awakening, being an initiator and prominent Leader of Albanian League of Prizren.

Sami Frashëri (June 1, 1850 – June 18, 1904) was an Albanian writer, philosopher, playwright and a prominent figure of the National Renaissance movement of Albania, together with his two brothers Abdyl and Naim.

Naim Frashëri (25 May 1846 – 20 October 1900) was an Albanian poet and writer. He was one of the most prominent figures of the Albanian National Awakening of the 19th century, together with his two brothers Sami and Abdyl.
He is widely regarded as the national poet of Albania.

4:45

Çerçiz Topulli (1880 - 15 July 1915) was a patriotic nationalist figure and guerrilla fighter.
He was known for fighting the Turks in 1907 and 1908 and then, after the Turks left, the Greeks, who invaded in 1913 and 1914.

5:02

Hasan Prishtina originally known as Hasan Berisha (born 1873 in Vıçıtırın, Kosovo Province, Ottoman Empire – died 1933 in Thessaloniki, Greece) was an Albanian politician, who served as Prime Minister of Albania in December 1921.

5:12

Isa Boletini (January 15, 1864 – January 23, 1916) was an Albanian nationalist figure and guerilla fighter, born in the village of Boletin near Mitroviça, Ottoman Empire. He was a freedom fighter in Kosovo and became a major figure of Albanian resistance against the Ottomans, Serbia and Montenegro.

5:36

Theofan Stilian Noli, better known as Fan Noli (January 6, 1882 – March 13, 1965) was an Albanian-American writer, scholar, diplomat, politician, historian, orator, and founder of the Albanian Orthodox Church, who served as prime minister and regent of Albania in 1924 during the June Revolution.

5:44

Gjergj Fishta (October 23, 1871 – December 30, 1940) was an Albanian Franciscan friar, poet, rilindas, and a translator.
Notably he was the chairman of the commission of the Congress of Monastir, which sanctioned the Albanian alphabet.
In 1921 he became the Vice President of the Albanian parliament.
In 1937 he completed and published his epic masterpiece Lahuta e Malcís, an epic poem written in Gheg dialect of Albanian. It contains 17,000 lines and is considered the "Albanian Iliad".
Gjergj Fishta was the first Albanian candidate for the The Nobel Prize in Literature.

5:54

Adem Jashari (28 November 1955 – 7 March 1998) is considered to be one of the chief architects of the Kosovo Liberation Army. Jashari was a chief commander in the Drenica operation zone of the KLA.

5:57

Ibrahim Rugova (2 December 1944 – 21 January 2006) was the first President of Kosovo, serving from 1992 to 2000 and again from 2002 to 2006, and a prominent Kosovo Albanian political leader, scholar, and writer.
He oversaw a popular struggle for independence, advocating a peaceful resistance to Yugoslav rule and lobbying for U.S. and European support, especially during the Kosovo War.

[Alboz]

From the poetry of Sejfullah Maleshova (1901 - 1971)

How I Love Albania

I've no farm estates or manors,
I've no shops or lofty buildings,
Yet I love my land, Albania -
For a barn in Trebeshina,
For its boulders and its brushwood,
For a hut above Selishta,
For two fields ploughed in Zallishta,
For a cow and for a donkey,
For an ox, a little lambkin,
This is how I love my country
Like a shepherd, like a peasant.

Yes, I love my land, Albania,
For the clover in its meadows,
For a quick and agile maiden,
For its spring of water gurgling
From the cliffs and flowing swiftly
Through the leafy oak tree forests,
Tumbling down to form a river,
Yes, I love my land, Albania,
For the fenugreek in blossom,
For the birds that fly above it,
For the nightingales a-singing,
In the shade and in the brambles,
Trilling songs of love and longing,
This is how I love my country,
Like a poet in devotion.

Yes, I love my land, Albania,
Right from Korça to Vranina,
Where the farmer sets off early
With his hoe and plough a-toiling,
Sows and reaps by sun and moonlight,
Yet, he has no food to live on,
Where the farrier and saddler
Day and night stoop o'er their duties
Just to get a few stale breadcrumbs,
Where the porter at the dockyards,
Laden down with iron and barrels,
Bears his load, barefoot and ragged,
Always serving other people.
Yes, I love my land, Albania,
Right from Skopje to Janina,
Where its people in misfortune
Suffer, live their lives in serfdom,
Yet they have a fighting spirit -
This is how I love my country,
Like a revolutionary.

[Alboz]

From the poetry of Naim Frasheri (1846-1900)

Oh mountains of Albania

Oh mountains of Albania and you, oh trees so lofty,
Broad plains with all your flowers, day and night I contemplate you,
You highlands so exquisite, and you streams and rivers sparkling,
Oh peaks and promontories, and you slopes, cliffs, verdant forests,
Of the herds and flocks I'll sing out which you hold and which you nourish.
Oh you blessed, sacred places, you inspire and delight me!
You, Albania, give me honour, and you name me as Albanian,
And my heart you have replenished both with ardour and desire.
Albania! Oh my mother! Though in exile I am longing,
My heart has ne'er forgotten all the love you've given to me.
When a lambkin from its flock strays and does hear its mother's bleating,
Once or twice it will give answer and will flee in her direction,
Were others, twenty-thirty fold, to block its path and scare it,
Despite its fright it would return, pass through them like an arrow,
Thus my wretched heart in exile, here in foreign land awaiting,
Hastens back unto that country, swift advancing and in longing.
Where cold spring water bubbles and cool breezes blow in summer,
Where the foliage grows so fairly, where the flowers have such fragrance,
Where the shepherd plays his reed pipe to the grazing of the cattle,
Where the goats, their bells resounding, rest, yes 'tis the land I long for.

[Alboz]

(During the Middle Ages, the Albanians called their country Arbëri or Arbëni and referred to themselves as Arbëresh or Arbnesh)

At the shore seagulls speed flying
like our song full of yearn
we sing with love from afar
oh Arberia

Our ancestors left you in sorrow
how long gone without seeing you
but today you are like a flower
oh Albania

Waves of the sea foam full of eddies
together with friends at the shore we came
for how much yearn we have, the sea has no waves
oh you Beautiful Arberia
we gaze from afar and on you contemplate
oh Beautiful Albania

The branches dance, you a root farther apart
among the waves of storms
so many years forlorn
but your branches never withering
oh Arberia

This song of ours, for you always
haunts us like a fire at the bosom
at your hearth we are forever
oh Albania

[Alboz]

Our Song

Mother is asking: "Where are my boys, where have they gone?"
a great shame has stepped the gates of our home
stone upon stone, they're pulling down our tower
come back my boys, how could you forget your Mother

O God give us back the honor of home
in this dread of solitude don't leave us alone

Wake up brother, there is no other day but today
Mother is calling, her tears of mourn are about to waste
stone upon stone, our tower we'll pull it up again
the time has come to kick out of home this shame

O God give us back the honor of home
in this dread of solitude don't leave us alone
don't…

How fleeting the years have gone
that memory brings back this song
how easy we all forgot
the pain we felt once long ago

those songs we sang jointly
remained an echo in the memory
all now are singing lonely
my country is an 'orphan'

once more if we could walk
and be reunited like once upon a time
a heart for a heart law
become a flag for all of us

the hand that stretches out when I fall
it's the one that is holding us tight
don't let it be forgotten
for we have no other hearth

[Alboz]

Cold November

Is there a memory, oh to warm me up on these days?
Is there a path which makes me turn as a man and look ahead?
Is there a memory to give us a meaning, won't you tell me?
Oh won't you tell me, where to find the strength to sing today?

Still fresh is that glance of scorn
Still fresh that cold ache in bones
Still fresh even the traces left by the footsteps on the road
A frozen glance fell upon the home which I never saw anymore

Cold November haunts me still today
cold November in years echos

A century passed on walking but yet we fell
A century passed but on our feet yet we can't stand
A century passed of lessons, yet how come we learnt nothing?
Oh ignorant mind, a greedy eye a whole nation can pull down
How much longer till we love each other
how much longer till we change our own destiny
how much longer till someone else's life we value
Oh won't you tell me, where to find the strength to sing today?

Cold November haunts me still today
cold November,
oh November…

They swore and hit me, "the unfaithful you'll turn" - they told me
they undressed and dressed me, even myself I recognize no longer
the veil they sew for me, oh how proudly today I hold it
the dance they started, oh like a bride how beautiful the step I pride

[Alboz]

Mother's Milk

Orient-Occident, Occident or Orient
to the market they take you like a sheep
between the two civilizations
both have taken you by the rope
both are pulling you and you're foaming
you're tiresome
long time you've been standing in the noise
you've got to breathe, they're choking you
your have no voice left out to scream
so violently they've messed you up in your head
and how much longer till they all chop you to pieces
till they split you and boil you
till you understand that you won't be keeping on in confusion
the baby won't be able to eat the roasted chicken
won't be able to eat the chilly pepper
you're forcing the baby to go and run
before s/he can start to walk first
you might as well give it an arabian pacifier
or you might give it a french pacifier
but still s/he will demand for the mother's milk, you moron!
mother's milk, you moron!