Girls are made of water

Girls have only
Moonlit paths
Where they tread like the strains of a violin
Towards the forbidden fruit
            urged on by the wind,
            the clement, warm wind
            which brings the rain,
To and fro in their white and slender veils
They swing and sway to the azure heavens.
And onwards they tread
Like the strains of a violin.

Girls have wondrous worlds
            in their watery imagination.
They perish in your hands.
They never find the only way
There is to dream.
No one feeds them.
They hurry forth,
Growing up so terribly fast.
Disrobing in rundown lodgings
They sacrifice themselves,
For girls perish
As soon as they are grown...
Despite their earthly
Urges
They remain UNATTAINABLE
For
They live no longer than a sigh.

[Vajzat janë prej uji, from the volume Ndodhi në shpirt, Elbasan: Onufri 1995, p. 33,
translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie