POEM - THE EPIC OF THE PHOENIX, POETESS - ANGELA KOSTA (ALBANIA & ITALY)

 
Angela Kosta was born in Elbasan, Albania, and lives in Italy. She is a writer, poet, translator, journalist, and cultural promoter. She has published 27 books, including novels, poetry, and fairy tales, in Albanian, Italian, English, French, Arabic, Korean, Spanish, Turkish, Japanese, and Hebrew (with upcoming translations in Greek, Romanian, and Polish).
A member of numerous international academies and associations, she has represented Albanian literature at various festivals and competitions. Her work has been translated into 45 languages and published in many countries. In 2024 alone, her works appeared in over 170 international magazines and newspapers. She has received significant awards such as "Best Translator" from OBELISK magazine for translating poems by Giosuè Carducci and the title of "Important Figure" from the Moroccan newspaper Akhbar7 (2023). She was also listed among the 100 most prominent figures in Arabic literature by Al-Rowad News in 2024. Angela is an active member of academies in Italy, the USA, China, Greece, Poland, and other countries. Her work promotes dialogue between cultures through the written word, building literary bridges worldwide. On March 6, 2025 she participated in the extraordinary cultural event “Female Excellence” at Sala Zucchari in the Italian Senate as a member of the VerbumlandiArtAps Association and a jury member of the competition.
 

 
THE EPIC OF THE PHOENIX
 

Sun-dust glimmers 'neath craters unsealed,
Untold triumphs time has concealed,
Carved in tempests, on stone and flame,
By a tyrant hand with no name.
The blood-drenched Phoenix, whirls the sphere,
Thirsting in hell’s own frontier,
Burns to ash 'neath ruins deep
Then rises again, its vow to keep:
To rule the world anew, unbowed,
Above the silence of the crowd.
And we are mute…
I am mute…
Stripped of power, stripped of truth.
I cannot fight what mercy feigns,
Nor time’s cruel chain that still remains.
Beheaded, blind, we linger still,
Shadows of glory, bent by will.
We leave behind the sneer of loss,
Bear time’s burden, feel its cross,
And chew the darkness of the soul
No tears to cleanse, no centuries whole…