Time and the Order of Death — Summary

Ndrek GjiniAnxieux

Mountain, Wolf, Oak, Bird, Dream, and I are here together today. All waiting the decision that time will announce about which or who will flee first from this siege.

We talk, kiss, sing and help each other, while not forgetting even for a moment, the deception. Although the world has more than enough space for all of us, we still feel cramped and stealthily we pray for each other’s death.

Then time starts reading its verdict. The first to go is Dream. After that, it’s Bird’s turn. Then Wolf and I start staring eye-to-eye, awaiting Time’s next judgment. Time announces Wolf's name to go before me.

Afterwards Oak and I start to hear the steps of death approaching us, and jealously we gape at Mountain’s head which is wrapped in a white scarf of snow.

It’s our turn. Oak and I have to go, before Mountain anyway. At least Oak promised me that if I am to go first Oak will come and be my coffin.

Afficher tout le poèmeReplier le poème

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.

Download on the App StoreGet it on Google Play
More about the app

or

Continue on the website

In Ndrek Gjini’s “Time and the Order of Death,” the speaker stands with Mountain, Wolf, Oak, Bird, and Dream as they wait for Time to decide who will die first. They comfort one another, yet each secretly wishes the others to go before them. Even though the world has room for everyone, death makes them feel cramped and suspicious. Time then reads the verdicts: Dream dies first, then Bird, then Wolf. The speaker and Oak remain, jealous of Mountain’s snowy calm, until they learn they must die before Mountain. Oak’s final promise—to become the speaker’s coffin—adds a strange tenderness.

The mood is eerie, resigned, and intimate. Death becomes less a distant force than a judge calmly reading names, and survival feels like only a delay.

À lire aussi

Poem analysisUne lecture de ses images et de sa forme

Plus de Ndrek Gjini

Tous les poèmes
ContemplatifNdrek Gjini

Walking the Streets

This evening I walk the streets hand in hand with my grief. I have left, locked in my house, my disabled memories
ContemplatifNdrek Gjini

Sunday Morning

Women, one after another appear on the balconies of apartments or back gardens of the houses and hang in wires
TristeNdrek Gjini

I’m Not the Black Cat

I am not the black cat. There were four of us; my grandmother, a black cat,

Atmosphère proche

Thème proche