Oh hills of Sarajevo
if only you could speak
What grimness you have witnessed
from your highest peak
Oh bridge over Mostar
they drowned you in the river
of Neretva where you witnessed
crimes that sent cold shivers
Oh Pyramids of Visoko
tell us of the things you saw
Opression spread across your land
four years in the enemies claw.
Oh people of Prijedor
no one knows how many of you fell
But if you would have made it
what horrible tales you'd live to tell?
Oh woman from Trebinje
refugee in your own land
Expelled from home by a foreign people
with weapons in their hand.
Oh green, lush fields of Hadjic
still covered in mines
How many lives were you forced to take?
And how many times.
I am returning from Bosnia tomorrow God willing, and leave you with this poem dedicated to the suffering people, animals, trees, rivers, hills, mountains, mosques, churches, graveyards, homes, hospitals, schools, roads, electrical power plants, telephone lines, water, food of Bosnia, that were all bombed ruthlessly in the war and longest siege in european history of a country.
if only you could speak
What grimness you have witnessed
from your highest peak
Oh bridge over Mostar
they drowned you in the river
of Neretva where you witnessed
crimes that sent cold shivers
Oh Pyramids of Visoko
tell us of the things you saw
Opression spread across your land
four years in the enemies claw.
Oh people of Prijedor
no one knows how many of you fell
But if you would have made it
what horrible tales you'd live to tell?
Oh woman from Trebinje
refugee in your own land
Expelled from home by a foreign people
with weapons in their hand.
Oh green, lush fields of Hadjic
still covered in mines
How many lives were you forced to take?
And how many times.
I am returning from Bosnia tomorrow God willing, and leave you with this poem dedicated to the suffering people, animals, trees, rivers, hills, mountains, mosques, churches, graveyards, homes, hospitals, schools, roads, electrical power plants, telephone lines, water, food of Bosnia, that were all bombed ruthlessly in the war and longest siege in european history of a country.
9 comments:
Hey Shaira another heartfelt piece of poetry. It is so sad to see lands that have become barren and taken their toll due to the ravages of war. The trip must have been enlightning. hope you have a safe journey back.
very very beautiful poetry.
as usual always special and from the heart.
we live in sad times.
SS...
This is a beautifully written tribute.
May the rest of your trip leave you with something equally beautiful and preferably positive to share.
I'd hate to forget, or see you (or Buj) forget how much beauty there really is out there.
You're a shining example of that beauty with all that you do.
Thank you everyone. It has been an overwhelming trip emtionally in many ways. I hope I did justice to it in this short poem.
There is much good in the world tainted, thank you for reminding us. I try to find it wherever I go, and I found much good in Bosnia alhamdolillah.
A very profound poem.
You're a very special person.
You help people see, through your eyes, your poems, your music and your pictures.
Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it.
Exseno, thank you for wanting to be part of it :)
coming from Bosnia i truely and deeply feel you have captured not only the hardships we have gone through but our lands history from the past years. As Bosnia becomes a better place to live in, i take pride in knowing that Bosnia will remain OUR land. yes the serbs tried to take it, they thought they could overpower us but we proved them wrong. They destroyed homes, killed innocent people and yet have the nerve to say that the war was our fault. All that we wanted was freedom. During the 5 Korpus many died, but that was also the time that the Muslim people got back at those serbs. A part of my heart rests truely and surely on the fact that Bosnia will always be my one and only home. Bosnia will always open for me and accept me. No matter where i go, no matter which country i travel to Bosnia will always be in my thoughts. And maybe when Bosnia one day perishes, all of its people will look back and say "yea thats my home, it may not be our Bosnia but we can see it. We can see our homes where we once had joyous times, we can see other places where i once had my whole family together. I can see it. You may not. But in my eyes that land will always remain my one and only home....my Bosnia.
Fala ti, bosnian :)
Reading your feedback makes me really happy. Do drop by.
Wonderful and informative web site. I used information from that site its great. » »
Post a Comment