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So a lovely and dear friend of mine sent me this.  And I’m ever so grateful she did.  Moving, beautiful, and bone chilling. Have to share.  It is so fitting to how I see things also.  Below is  a video added with a reading of the poem with a wonderful slide show of photos to compliment such beautiful poetry.  I’m in total awe over this.

The Defiant Poem

by: Dobrica Eric

divine daughter
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.


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.


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.

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,