Just a year ago, the late journalist Artur Zheji had dedicated an obituary to her, describing her as a "Magnificent Lady."
With notes of irony, Zheji wrote that death would also impose justice on those in power who, with "golden rings" and "expensive collars," eroded Albania.
Full text
There are a few rare cases where the little man, or the self-proclaimed great man, crumples, shrinks, and suddenly comes to his senses!
Proud and with a far-reaching gaze, bending over the bodies and sullen faces, the false grandeurs of its future victims. And the hounds feel like hounds and not any other animal.
And cobras feel like cunning and treacherous snakes, haughty and dwelling in secret holes where they plot future poisonous bites...
And those in power are stunned and feel like Nobodies when they look the Black Queen in the eye.
This majestic Lady that one day Divine Justice will place above the hypocritical vampires of everyday life, huddled and well hidden behind expensive suits and collars.
They, supposedly in mourning, parade with their heads bowed, at the funeral, beside the Magnificent Lady, the Black Queen, with their hands adorned with golden rings, which peacefully hide the blood stains that cannot be washed away.
She stands above the head of the next traveler to the Other World and watches everyone like an Eagle watches the rodents of my Country.
And the Queen, who plays like a breeze in that mixed log, hears their silent prayers, to postpone as long as possible the meeting with her, the Incorruptible Absolute!
But She, the Majestic, continues to play like the breeze, above that buzzing of ants, snakes, and hyenas, and sweetly caresses only those who truly suffer for the deceased whom She has come to take with her...
I felt this perception when contemplating the State Funeral for Ismail Kadare on his journey between two Worlds.
The witty and ironic writer, virtuoso and reclusive for most of his life, recently watched many of the characters he had mocked and ridiculed line up at his funeral.
In truth, this is the terrible revenge of the microworld, against those who have ignored them while they are alive, coming to their funeral, disturbing the peace that is needed in these cases.
That's why I deeply understood Helena Kadare, who pushed aside the crowd of numerous Hichas, in the brief moments of separation from her Ismail.
Whoever doesn't understand, it's none of my business!
