A girl from Tropoja's letter to Prime Minister Rama will make you cry

Letter to Albanian Prime Minister Edi Rama

I am addressing you with an open letter, the country's prime minister!

I'm addressing you from trouble and why I'd really like to be very pleased with you.

I'm talking to you, hoping that I'll get an answer from you even though I know that the answer won't come, maybe never...

But as Kypling says, I'll be in waiting, waiting hard...

I'm addressing you perhaps in a way that I would never accept addressing someone, addressing you in prayer.

Today, a student, daughter of Tropoja, a daughter of Albania, is begging, begging...

Today I'm going against all my principles, with all the boundaries I've put on myself over the years, today I'm tearing down all the cults I've grown up with, and I'm begging someone, I'm begging someone, in this case you.

Today I am addressing you, I am the one writing, but on my lines are the words and hearts of thousands of citizens, thousands of residents, thousands of Albanians, thousands of foreigners.

The words are mine, the voice is everyone's.

Sir! Can I ask you something?

Have you ever heard of a small mountain place called Tropoja? A place that hides beneath the greatest beauty, an oaz of beauty called Valbona?

> You probably heard these two names, but especially the latter. It is impossible not to have pierced the so sweet and courageous roar of its river.

You remember now? You know who I'm talking about?

That's exactly why! For that place lieth in the mountains, among the mountains, where the earth kisseth heaven, and bringeth forth fruit into the river.

That's why I'm writing to you.

What about you or me and Valbona?

Ties everything up to me, sir, I'm bound by the word life, that Valbona to me is life, or my life is like Valbon: sometimes harsh, quiet, so proud, so that she gets good enough to throw herself into the rocks.

And you, sir, I guess I don't think it's gonna tie you up.

You know why? Because I believe you have at least one memory in that country, you have at least one picture, or a slight image of memory where the breeze has touched your cheeks and the sweet melody of water has calmed your mind for a moment and sent you to another place. I guess you weren't at least once in the alpine Valbon, or at least once a conversation between friends where her name was mentioned, or at official meetings and international conference when you told others about the beauty of our country, I guess you mentioned Valbonne. Her name comes to you by yourself. And then when you had a meeting and discussed budget, funds, statistics, I believe you heard Valbona's name here and there, when you were told that the number of tourists in Albania and one of the most visited sites was Valbona. <

Do you remember him or not?

But...

Sir! Something happened yesterday that wasn't supposed to happen, or maybe it was conditioned that it would happen so I could write you.

They made a decision yesterday, sir, did you hear that? I wish I hadn't heard it.

Yesterday they decided to completely shut down Valbonne and her river. I don't want to say it permanently, so I'm putting it on my fingernails, because I don't want to, and I won't believe I won't listen to that river song anymore.

Yesterday, the long-standing undaunted war costing all the Trojans, all Albanians, all those who love Albania, we all lost, even you, sir! And you're one of the losers in this battle, because the only winner in this middle is the name HEC! And do you agree to leave the victory to someone else?

You, you got the wheel, right? So do something about the wheel leaving you!

Do something, please don't you or us losers!

I beg you, I beg you, as I have not begged anyone before!

Please put your hand to your heart, please, with tears in your eyes!

I'm begging you because only you can do something!

Please, sir! Don't let them destroy Valbonne!

Don't let them touch Valbonne! Please!

I'll be waiting for an answer from you, an answer I wish to come before it's too late.