Dilaveri says: “Because my father was killed by the communists, I spent 17 years in prison. For 20 years the long calvary of internment took from me my family: sisters, brothers, nephews.

“For us, the politically persecuted, the rules of the dictatorship were severe. If a close relative died, nobody was allowed to visit that family. These unlucky and lonely people sometimes were forced to take their dead to the grave in a strange manner, tired to a horse or mule. Dino was one of the few who welcomed me into his home, though at that time it was a very dangerous thing to do.”

Of Dino he says, “He was my friend. He was an intellectual. He went to prison twice. Above all, he was a man with a formidable character; all his life he refused to submit to communist torture. He went from being an ardent anti-fascist and anti-nazist to being decidedly anti-communist. I was with him at his first prison, where he was distinguished for his fellowship and his association with other men of strong character, such as Teli Jonomi, Izet Kallarati, Andrea Jako, and the physician Jani Melo.

Je suis seul Wild horses, Vlora

Wild horses, Vlora

“In prison we had only 600 grams of bread a day. We drank water from an infected well. During one year 300 inmates died at the prison of Burreli.” One of the worst prisons, Burreli was notorious for the severity of the regimen inflicted on its inmates. Located in the northern central region, the temperatures were frequently below freezing and the prisoners were allowed use of their blankets only at night.

Today Dilaveri is a refugee living in Bordeaux, France. In sorrowful French he says, “Je suis seul (I am alone).”