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1. ♥ Defiant Poem ♥
   I,
   divine daughter
   Serbia,
   with lowered head,
   hereby freely state,
   with shackles and through the wire,
   before my witnesses
   Force, Suffering and Injustice,
   that I am guilty and that I confess the guilt.

   I am guilty of existing
   instead of being unreal.
   I have a long standing guilt
   of standing upright
   and looking up to the sky
   instead of down at the grass
   I am guilty of daring
   and challenging injustice
   I am guilty of celebrating again
   my family patron saint!
   I am to blame for reading and writing
   in Cyrillic.
   I am guilty of singing,
   laughing and cursing
   (and sometimes barking).
   I am guilty and to name
   my greatest guilt
   (before I die laughing),
   I`m guilty, stubborn as I am,
   of being Orthodox
   devoted to St. Sava
   and of not believing in
   the holy crime and the absolution!

   My sin and my guilt is, therefore, that I exist
   and with all that I stand spitefully
   refusing to confess I am not real!

   Should I confess
   to save my life
   I will loose the sacred cross
   and the patron saint.
   Should I refuse
   dire future awaits
   the entire world will raid my land.

   Swarms

   of former men.
   Thieves and paupers.
   Packs of robots and other monsters yet
   will swoop on my orchards and fields
   and my little white houses along the roads
   adorned by green goddesses
   cherry, apple and plum trees.

   I confess, for the sake of salvation of my kin,
   I do not exist thus cross me off your list
   From now on I am only light, air and water.
   The three elements you can exploit.
   What you see speaking and walking before you
   is what you’ve turned me into.
   My ugly image
   with monstrous features
   that you multiply morning and evening.
   It`s the image
   of your conscience and subconsciousness
   That`s not me, on the outside!
   That`s you – on the inside.

   My foe.

   My foe,
   with thousand hands,
   with thousand servants of fabrication,
   you plucked my sun like an apple
   and my pure joy
   like a red poppy from a rye field.

   My descendants will be rage and sorrow
   but yours already are drinking the bitter mead
   for the bloody money
   from selling off the land of my forefathers.

   Destiny will pull a straitjacket over you
   so that the daybreak could start,
   for the planet will split from shame
   and bury all of us in the same abyss.

   We are very important, my dear beloved land,
   we and our sisters
   Truth and Justice
   for such mighty forces have rallied against us
   and Wrong and Injustice are sneering at us.

   Swarms

   of former men
   Thieves and paupers
   packs of robots and other monsters
   are flicking their tongues at my orchards and fields
   and my little white houses along the roads
   adorned by green goddesses
   cherry, apple and plum trees.

   I suppose that foreign hordes have heard
   that we have hearts of gold
   and they are ripping them out
   to replace their own
   hoping to become human.
   But, in vain,
   in vain
   you will lynch the most hospitable people on this planet,
   for which you will burn in hell,
   for human heart, that wonder of wonders,
   will not be accepted by your chest.

   Gentlemen,
   prosecutors, judges and executioners,
   you`ve banned all in my own home,
   but no one can stop me
   from singing and laughing as I am dying!
   For you no longer laugh or sing
   neither on weddings
   nor when a child is born!

   Spare me the rope and the spear
   and crucify me on a mountain top
   as your forefathers did my forefather
   Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

   I will look on
   and you close your eyes
   for they might shatter
   in the brightness of my face,
   but hurry,
   the sooner you crucify me
   the sooner I will,
   the sooner I will,
   resurrect!
   ………….
   author: Dobrica Eric narrator: Ivana Žigon

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