Here is the translation. Sorry I had a friend come over. Thanks to my proof reader for fixing my mistakes. It was a long time ago; I would not mention names, who sold us out and what the price of our lives were, which God took or did he give us 3 months of hell and then Vukovar fell, we fell together with him but we surrender bravely. A month after Blago Zadro was killed. (*Brave general who defended the city, his son was killed there as well). In my throat lingers a bitter thirst, for all our calls of help (to the European Union), when all we got in return were turned backs. Whoever lived through Ovčara dare not ask what he went through (*Ovcara was where 1000+ wounded from the hospital were taken out to a field and gun down then buried in a mass grave) Neither into Stajicevu, nor into Mitrovica did I go, 4 months in a concentration camp, where every second became a scar, so goes the prisoners exchange when it was March, What does it mean to have luck? That I remained alive, that I had more bad luck, what I saw and heard? No, this is not to be forgotten, there is no doctor which can heal these wounds nor my beloved wife which sickness took from me last year. My daughter Sarah who is three years old, she is my reason for living, all that is left is my daughter and memories of my boys from Trpinjske street (*big battle where few croatian soldiers killed hundreds aggressor tanks) The memories of those days pain me, of the glorious days of the proud, but I fight on and don’t give up until the Danube river flows low and the painful truth that there is no one whom I love not covered by the flag let them dream in the shadow of the great oak… My little Sarah knows nothing of what happened, she sleeps with a smile and dreams of playing fields, eating cookies and candy, not of bombs and grenades, she did not see the damned demons like her father. Does not see the bloody trenches and burned down roofs of his native town, she does not know anything of this and better that she doesn’t know, let her be a happy child. She only knows that her father swallows some pink pills when his head hurts, Prozac or Xanax doesn’t exist for these nightmares which are seared into the brain that would help remove these barricades. I bury the dead in the past, but they disturb them, what are you doing people why you disturb them and take they out? I shake and shiver, like Im not all myself, till I feel a cold sweat, something inside burns like Hell. The butstock of life strikes hard, painfully hurts like hell, I passed through, I cried, I no longer know how, to fight against this, not even a bit is easy like I have nothing else other than this grenade. But this will be enough, if they decide to return… The memories of those days pain me of the glorious days of the proud, but I fight on and don’t give up until the Danube river flows low and the painful truth that there is no one whom I love not covered by the flag let them dream in the shadow of the great oak… O Dear God, as if in a dream with blood seeping from my feet, and I am standing on our soil, around me the butchered, others shot, beaten, disfigured, innocent (Nevin) and tortured to death all at once I also fall into the blood mud. But my Sarah grabs my hand and yells” I won’t give my father” Then it all disappears as an angel appears in front of us, he sends us a cloud which carries Sarah’s mother, my dear wife shining like the sun, smiling and laughing, greater than 1 million cannon she hugs me happily, we all weep happily, all three of us, suddenly all my dead comrades appear around us… All still handsome, all still young just like if in a photograph, they say in a singular voice that the war has come to an end, to live, with the living, but don’t forget the dead. I kiss them all and to this I promise They wish me goodbye and that all is as it was before. The powerful Danube river flows and the powerful winds move our flags I awake because Sarah is smiling, and she hugs me with her two little hands around my neck showing her heart to me… The Danube river flows low and the painful truth that there is no one whom I love not covered by the flag let them dream in the shadow of the great oak
Posted on: Tue, 19 Nov 2013 01:17:01 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015