“Above the wide Buna and the city of Shkodra, proudly rises the ancient castle of Rozafa.
When was the first stone set at the bedrock of this castle? Unknown.
Its history dissolves in the fog of Illyrian antiquity, from the ancient inhabitants of this disease. However, one thing is well known: it was once owned by the Labate’s and then the Ardians, who were strong Illyrian tribes.
At that time, the onwards shore of the Adriatic, up to the famous Tergesta, formed the Illyrian coast. Later on, the Romans, the Slavs, the Normans, the Venetians, the Turks, and many other foreign peoples fled there. Over the centuries, those dry crepes beneath the walls of Rozafat, as well as the castle walls themselves, have been dampened with the blood of those who they attacked as well of those who defended.
The foreigners came and went, and our people remained entrenched in this Illyrian land. The building of the castle of Rozafat has a beautiful, as well as sorrowful legend, which derives from ancient times.
“The fog fell on Buna and covered it all… for three days, and three nights this mist remained there. After three days and three nights, a gentle breeze blew the fog. The breeze lifted the mist. There, at the top of the hill of Valdanuz, three brothers worked very hard, day and night, to build a castle to protect their town, but every time they finished the work, the castle’s walls would fall.
One day a good older man passes by.
– Good job, you three brothers
– Thank you, older man, but what’s the good thing you see here? We work for the whole day, and at night the walls tumble down! Can you help us? What is the thing we should do to keep the walls on their feet?
– I’ve got the answer – said the older adult – but I’m afraid to say it.
– Go on the older man, said the brothers.
The good older man thinks for a moment and asks:
-Are you married, valiant? Do you have wives?
-We do- they said. – So, tell us. What should we do to build this castle?
– If you want it built, give the word of honor “jepni besën[1]” to each-other to not reveal to your wives what I am going to tell you to do.
The older man gave the solution:
The first wife to bring lunch to her husband tomorrow should be buried in the walls of the castle.
The castle will be strong and will never tumble down again…he said so and disappeared.
What a pity! Two of the brothers revealed the plan to their wives, and they found excuses for tomorrow. Only the youngest one didn’t tell his wife about the plan.
The next day, the three brothers get up quickly and go to work. Hammers slam, stones shatter, hearts beat quickly.
At home, the mother of the sons doesn’t know anything about her sons’ idea.
She says to the wife of the eldest son:
– my dear, the masters want bread and water; they want the pumpkin and the wine.
She replies:
– Dear mother, I can’t go today because I am sick.
Then she asks the wife of her middle son, but she replies in a clear-cut way:
-I can’t because I have to go and see my parents.
The mother of the sons then asks the wife of her younger son; she was named Rozafa; this is the reason why it is Legend of Rozafa.
-Dear little bride
-Yes, mother!
-The masters want bread and water; they want the pumpkin and the wine.
-Dear mother, I can go, but I am afraid I have to breastfeed my little son, and he may cry.
-No worries, go; we take care of him, say the sisters-in-law.
The youngest bride gets the box full of delicacies (bread, water, pumpkin, and wine), kisses the baby, and goes to Kazene; there she goes up the hill of Valdanuz and gets closer to the workplace of her husband and her brothers-in-law.
-‘Puna mbarë o mjeshtër’![2] What’s wrong?
The hammers stop, but the hearts beat hard and hard. The faces fade. When the little brother sees his wife, he throws up the hammer, curses the stone as well as the wall. Then Rozafa’s husband explained to her that she had to be sacrificed and buried in the walls of the castle for the castle to be finished.
She accepted her fate, but under one condition:
the brothers should leave a hole for her right breast so her newborn son could feed;
another hole for her right hand to caress him,
and the third hole for her right foot to move his cradle.
The castle never collapsed, and this is how the legend of Rozafa has come in these days.
————————————————————–
[1] Jap besën means to say the word of honor, to promise sth; for Albanians it is sacred
[2] This is a way of wishing somebody well; may you have a light work
