The old people of Labuništa, besides being known as good craftsmen, were also famous for their trades. The craft workshops were not only places where work and earnings took place. They were often meeting places for conversation and socializing.

From time to time, the villagers gathered there, would sit, chat, and open a conversation about some interesting or current topic. Among them were many talented people who knew how to tie the conversation well. It was interesting to listen to them, and often something could be learned from their talks.

One such well-known craftsman was Ađho Ljatifi. In the center of the village, he had a blacksmith’s workshop where the villagers brought their horses and donkeys for shoeing.

Especially on Fridays, when Labuništa had market day, his workshop was full of people. Some came to have their livestock shod, others just to listen or share pleasant conversation.

Among those who knew how to speak wisely and instructively, there was always someone eager to show off by appearing smart and talkative but simply had no gift for it.

Ađho Ljatifi, as the host of all these conversations, had a special gift to judge people and their eloquence.

When after a long and convoluted speech someone asked him:

— Ađho Ljatifi, how did you find so-and-so's conversation?

He would answer briefly:

— Nothing. "Kodër në kodër."

That is:

"From hill to hill."

With that, he meant the person spoke a lot but without order or connection – starting one topic, jumping to another, then another, without you knowing where they started or where they intended to go.

And so, among the old Labuništa villagers, this short and witty assessment by Ađho Ljatifi remained remembered – an assessment I personally have had the chance to hear from his mouth many times.

When someone spoke long, disjointed, mixing everything, there was no need for lengthy analysis.

It was enough to say:

"Kodër në kodër."

And everyone knew what it meant.

This short quip by Ađho Ljatifi was not just a joke at the expense of someone who could not tie their conversation neatly. It contained a simple old rule: it is not important how much you speak, but what you say and whether your words have meaning, order, and purpose.

If once “Kodër në kodër” referred to a person jumping from topic to topic in a conversation, today this wisdom might be even more relevant. We live in a time when much is spoken and even more is written, yet the essence is often lost among the words. Especially in the public sphere, on social networks, and in politics, we often hear long speeches after which one again wonders: What, actually, did they want to say?

The old Labuništa villagers did not make long analyses of such speech. Ađho Ljatifi had just two words:

"Kodër në kodër."

From hill to hill — many words, but no clear path.

Perhaps that is why this old Labuništa saying still reminds us today that wisdom is not measured by the length of speech nor by the need to speak at every occasion, but by the weight and clarity of what is said — and by the skill to speak moderately, only when it is truly necessary.

✍️ Jakub Kazimoski

From the series “Wisdom of the Old Labuništa People”