Balkans: “We Sell War...”
The imagination of a French painter. The secret file is opened (by making punishment for çeking), is this it? Some goods and other contraband that probably extend through all Albanian movements. Plus the giant-killers returned with the small ones called people. Plus the giant-killers returned with others. They have come back only in
BY FERROK ÇUPI
Balkans: “We Sell War...”
The imagination of a French painter. The secret file is opened (by making punishment for çeking), is this it? Some goods and other contraband that probably extend through all Albanian movements. Plus the giant-killers returned with the small ones called people.
(Continues on page 4)
Kosovo dims clan[?]deshimet
BY DILVER FEJZIU
Milqo has descended twice on Wednesday in Tirana. It seems that he is there[?] in business with sweetness. Fuel trade has covered them with a little punishment throughout all the schemes. Some of the new wonders come from the war business. Some goods come by bus and with people; some go down to the market by weight. Some have been turned into cash. This is the market where Albanians learn the names of noise. They think this market is big, but the people are small. Some learn that the big fish has been drawn down from the mountains and has brought weapons. Others call this trade. Others call it war.
Further on, if a person is caught with weapons, then he is a collaborator of the national movement. If he is caught with fuel, he is a trader. If he is caught with money, he is a businessman. If he is caught with a dead person, then he is a patriot. Thus the new figures of profit have entered the courtyards of the Balkans. In their desolate courtyards, Albanians have also begun to trade fear. They sell it in boxes, in sacks, in suitcases, and in words.
This undeclared war smells of small winners. In every neighborhood there is one person who sells the news, another who sells the bullet, another who sells the road. War, like any commodity, needs a market. And the easiest market is the one found between poverty and hope. In this market nothing remains pure.
Those who begin with slogans end with money. Those who begin with tears end with fuel. Those who begin with an oath end with deals. And the deals of war are worse than war itself, because they leave only the traders alive.
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