some were leftists, other rightists, and I fell in love to the bone.
about the powers that move the world, about the power of people’s spirit which is floating above the abysses, about the things that are relevant to everybody and which can’t be bounded – some of them were talking about. About primordial, about the home warmth, about the legions of dead ones who were dying unduly, fooled and righteous, with a grace and a song on their lips – other were talking about. And I was dreaming about how his arms were caressing me and how the flock of words I wanted to say to him, were chocking my throat before the power of flood of some strange feelings, to tell him all in one instant. I was thinking about that, how in front of steadily tenderness of his smile I remain powerless and mute.
I knew that there were not only just one Croat and one Serb kissing.
in the 9th Circle of Hell that exhausted Little God cries over the destiny of the Earth where the life and the lie, the love and the blood are pouring from the same cup for the centuries.
the most beautiful of anything were his eyes.
Vinko Kalinić
(Translated by
Darko Kotevski)
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