WHO WE ARE                                                                                               

 

Fatmir Terziu (born 24 July 1964 in Elbasan) is an British-Albanian writer, filmmaker and journalist. After completing his studies, he worked as a teacher and head teacher in many schools in his home city of Elbasan. In the UK he continued his studies for HNC Media Production at South Thames College, for Communication at London South Bank University and later for DFVP at LSBU (2004-2007). He gained MA for Media, Cultural Studies & Politics at Roehampton University and he is currently on his way to a PhD. In 1992 he began working as chief editor of local newspaper Fjala e Lire (or Free Speech) and in 1997 as Television director, presenter and journalist in TV DARDAN. During that time he also worked in other areas of the Albanian media. Mr. Terziu was correspondent of the Democratic Party newspaper Rilindja Demokratike (RD, Democratic Rebirth) from 1994 until April 2001. Since 2001 he has worked as a freelance journalist in newspapers, and magazines in Albania and elsewhere in Europe.

In 2000 he published a book called Don't Silence with the help of the publisher Sejko in Albania, and another volume of short stories, The Argadas Devil, was published by Silver. In 2006 he published Walking on Glass (Ecje ne Qelq) with Silver publishing house. He is author of the study A Different Critique: An Insight Into Albanian Poetry and Prose (2009 Publisher Arberia). Also in 2009 the publishing house Globus R published his study in English language Media, Technology and Everyday Life and his book with short stories called The Misterious Woman. He also wrote, directed and edited the Documentary film Trokamat ne Jeten e nje Pene featuring a veteran teacher. This documentary was produced with the help of studio Iraj in London. Other short films and documentaries written, directed, shot and edited by Fatmir Terziu are: Rivermusic (2004), Windy Corner (2005), Sentimental Journey (2006), Footsteps in Life of a Writer (2007). He has made other short documentaries that are selected for BBC, such as Pencil and Computer and One Egg. Fatmir Terziu is known in the UK for his essay, Parametric Narration in Norman Wisdom's Films, written in 2007. It later appeared in a collection of his essays entitled with the same name, and numerous other online websites. His article was one that helped shift the orientation of film theory towards a study into the parametric narration of Norman Wisdom's films.

 

Books:

 

• Don't Silence (Mos Hesht) poetry 2000, "Sejko" Albania. • Walking on a Glass (Ecje ne Qelq) poetry 2006, "Silver" Albania • The Argadas Devil (Djalli i Argadasit) short stories 2005, "Silver" Albania. • The Mysterious Woman (Misteriozja) short stories 2009, "Globus R" Albania • A Different Critique: An Insight Into Albanian Poetry and Prose (Kritika ndryshe: Një vëzhgim në brendësi të prozës dhe poezisë shqiptare) (Analiza-Kritika-Studime: Pjesa e parë) "Arbëria", Albania. • Media, Technology and Everyday Life (Media, Teknologjia dhe Jeta e Përditshme) "Globus R" Albania. “Eagle’s Voices” poetry in English (2010) “Emal” London, “Kohebota” (poetry) 2010 “Emal”.  

 

Films:

 

•Windy Corner film • Clouds of Smoke • [Footsteps in the life of a writer]"Footsteps in the Life of a Writter" • Sentimental Journay • Think Again • Rivermusic • Pencil and Computer • One Egg • Bloodied Earth • Rrugova Dance in London

 

From his work

ACCIDENT

 

Read the lightning cloud!

In the sky stabbing exchanges

Where amid the still smoky sadness

The sluggish revealing of letters begins

In the rampant turning of the tearful eye.

 

Somewhere amid these feelings

Icy particles begin to grunt

Starting for the funeral parlour

And making the shovels ready.

 

So flaming and smouldering

It burns the headlights and the Ferod in the wheels

The kiss that remained saddening

In the stuck aorta valves.

 

MY EVERYDAY

 

In Victoria I always see fog

In the stubborn glass that always paints me

In Victoria I hardly have time

To even throw a glance at my hair.

 

I pass my hand very quickly

Over my half-naked-head

And instinctively

Focus on three hairs standing spiked.

 

Only in Victoria do I have some time

To see myself elegant

Only in Victoria am I deciphered 

On the Zeiss sunglasses I expand to an elephant. 

 

There thousands of movements are extinguished into standstill

The glance of my eyes remains frozen

Tiredness, upset and overexertion

Lost, half-asleep amid the clamour!

 

In Victoria I leave my signs everyday

Mornings, Afternoons, among the routine signals

I leave the space and enter disorder

Like a blade of straw in every season.

  

SUDDENLY

 

Suddenly I was lost in the detail of the map of poetry

I painted with my eyes the glassy veins of a glass

The spontaneous phoney movement got me stuck in a table

As I exploded my orphan force.

On the dispersing bubbles of the beer

A mountain with a saddening whiteness 

Settled on capricious lips

I promise that You

Where there

Dancing the beautiful ancient dance

I reveal that you made me travel

With the herdsman’s flute from far away to near You.

 

WITHOUT YOU MY LOVE

 

A coffee that I drank without you,

A coffee called Mocha

I hardly swallowed it down

Without you the coffee was nothing.

 

In a café that I was in until midnight

A cold sweat occupied my body

My eyes frozen in a photo

I was tearful.

 

In a cold glass opposite a window

My grey-hair lit up like neon

Tell me my dear. Please tell me!

Why did you leave me last night alone?

 

The coffee that I drank without you

Cold, hot… even Mocha,

Made it clear in my mind

Without YOU no coffee could be swallowed.

 

LONDON

 

No mountains, no hills

Only fields

Light breeze, a little bit hot

Rain that makes you shower

London.

 

Worlds centre, non-sleeping metropolis

North, South all Worlds united in one point

English, that beauty sings around the Thames.

 

Roads on Earth, underground, sky, ocean

Multiplied everyday capillaries

Start and slow down in London.

 

Days, months, years, centuries

Witnessing the history freely in books, museums

Relaxed people.

 

Here is my language among other hundreds of languages

Spoken in London’s streets, schools and communities

We thank you for life, London!

 

I, a digital movement in this surge

Rush to socialise with the time

Thankful to London!

 

PORTRAIT OF STRUGA

 

A fist of curls disturbs the silence

Like greying hair, swimming on the Drin

The ring of the bank of Ohrid holds them on its back

Blue-green and fresh in every season.

 

From afar, a swan descends slowly

Open-winged, white and rare

Landing on the lake with a splatter

And kissing his water with longing.

 

Curls, splatters, and the sky blue

All become one colour

As if in a canvas, the sun places

This portrait of Struga in your face.

 

STRUGA

 

Poetic city of the verse

You remained from birth to death

Body and lips wet

Never feeling thirsty.

 

From far the green crown

Comes and combs in your eye

And you hold it in your lap

Singing it songs with longing.

 

The breeze descends mornings

From the gorge of Ladorisht down

And then lays among the rays

That the sun nails down.

 

The aroma of apples is brought by the valley

Winter, summer, autumn and spring

And who never tried your charcoaled trout

And didn’t remain queued in the restaurants.

 

Poetic city of poets

City, symbol of cleanliness

White, days and nights

With the heart of verse.