They are not simply letters,that write the word “Albania”,but they are dough from the earth,that shape my homeland.
Sh is the first,because with it Albania begins,the same as this word,is freedom itself.
Q comes second,the letter that drops from the sky,it brings the blue to earth,and with it comes the sun.
I is next in line,do you know who brought it?Illyria brought it to us,because the soil demanded it.
P was somehow delayed a little,just as independence was delayed,there are still Albanian lands,that do not enjoy freedom.
Ë dripped like a child’s tear in November,Qemal cried too under the eaves of the house,Isa bowed deeply and kissed,only half of Albania.
R came from the thunderclouds,woven through the homeland’s sky,the sword spoke to the whole nation:I want Skanderbeg’s hand once more!
I was coming twice,just like the eagle with two heads,the peninsula is not at peace,the same wind is blowing again.
A waited last among its friends,to write the homeland in graphite,just as it is today without Kosovo,and not the whole ethnic Albania.
