The watchful eye;-)

Šta to radiš, sine?
Sanjam, majko.
Sanjam, majko, kako pjevam,
a ti me pitaš, u mome snu:
šta to ciniš, sinko?
O cemu, u snu, pjevaš, sine?
Pjevam, majko,
kako sam imao kucu.
A sad nemam kuce.
O tome pjevam, majko.
Kako sam, majko, imao glas,
i jezik svoj imao.
A sad ni glasa,
ni jezika nemam.
Glasom, koga nemam,
u jeziku, koga nemam,
o kuci koju nemam,
ja pjevam pjesmu, majko.

Abdulah Sidran - Savrseni Krug.

______________________________


C'est l'histoire d'un homme
qui tombe d'un immeuble de 50 étages.
Au fur et à mesure de sa chute,
pour se rassurer, il se répète:

"Jusqu'ici, tout va bien."
"Jusqu'ici, tout va bien."
"Jusqu'ici, tout va bien."

Mais l'important, c'est pas la chute.
C'est l'atterrissage...

_______________________________


BILA JEDNOM JEDNA ZEMLJA...

_______________________________


Kad ti zivot donese limune...
zatrazi tequilu i sol...i nazovi me!!!!!

_______________________________

MAN LEBT,
WOFUR MAN STERBEN WURDE!!!!!!

_______________________________

"One tells that the Turkish Czar one day issued an order to Husrev-Bey: 'Husrev-Bey, build two mosques in Sarajevo, one for me and one for you.' Since the younger do not argue, Husrev-Bey began building the mosques. Upon their completion he informed the Czar in Istanbul. Since the Czar already heard that one mosque was bigger and more beautiful, he wrote an order to Sarajevo; 'Husrev-Bey, the mosque you built for me-let that one be yours, and the one you built for yourself-let that one be mine.' The Czar was afraid for deception, but he decieved himself, as he did not know that for him, Husrev-Bey built the bigger and more beautiful one.
Thus, the bigger and prettier mosque was named after Husrev-Bey and the smaller and more modest one was named after the Czar's."

_______________________________

"Dragan doesn't want to go to Italy. He misses his wife and son, but he isn't Italian and he will never be. There's no country he can go to where he won't be from Sarajevo. This is his home, and this is the city he wants to be in. He doesn't want to live under siege for the rest of his life, but to abandon the city to the men on the hills would mean that he would be forever homeless. As long as he's here, and as long as he can keep his fear of death from blinding him to what's left of the world he once loved and could love again, there's still hope that one day he will be able to walk openly down the streets of his city with his wife and son, sit in a restaurant and eat a meal, browse the windows of shops, free from the men with guns..."

Fragment out of the Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway

_______________________________

"I don't drink coffee", Luka answered and Krsto turned around and shook his head while he said "Listen, my boy, let me give you my recipe for a long and healthy life. The first thing I do in the morning, is to eat a sugar-cube, to attract all the bacteria in my stomach, then, I quickly take a big sip of coffee to let it darken in there, and finally I kill them all with a big sip of Rakija. That's the only true medicine, not what those doctors all tell me."

fragment out of Esmarch by Vladimir Jokanovic

_______________________________

Bosnia:
One of those places where you
come as a guest,
leave as an aquaintance,
and return as a friend!!

Nenad Velickovic

_______________________________


'Is it true what they say, that you killed my father?'
And that cetnik says: 'Yes, I killed your father.'
'Why?' asks our guy.
'Because you're an Ustasi.'
'But in the past times, when we were friends, was I an Ustasi then?' he asks.
'No,' answers the cetnik, 'but you joined them.'
The guys went crazy that moment and threw themselves at him. They beat him towards the HQ, it was indescribable. They beat him up and cried at the same time for he used to be their friend.

Fragment out of Balkan Express by Slavenka Drakulic

______________________________


Maybe I could accept dying as a victim of the hate, but I can't live in hate nor can I life with hate...I cannot participate in it. And in a country like the Bosnia of today, someone who's unable to hate or worse, unwilling to hate, is always a stranger or a bastard, and often a martyr.

Ivo Andric, Letter from 1920.

less