I divine daughter
Serbia
hereby freely state with shackles and through the wire before my witnesses Force, Suffering and Injustice that I am guilty and that I confess!I am guilty of being someone instead of no one or niemand I am guilty of going to the Orthodox church in times of general Serb-hunt and guilty of crossing myself not too often though thus, with three fingers!
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 I confess that I do not know why I do, and that I know why I don`t know I am guilty and to name
my greatest guilt (before I die laughing) I`m guilty - pig-headed 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 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 pounce on my orchards and fields and my little white houses along the roads adorned by green goddesses
cherry, apple and plum trees (...)
My ugly image With monstrous features That you multiply morning and evening it`s the image of your conscience and subconscience That`s not me on the outside.That`s you - on the inside!
We are very important, I and my sisters Truth and Justice for such mighty forces have rallied against us and Wrong and Injustice are sneering at us.
Why are Jihad warriors Crusaders or Yanks to quarter my sons and daughters.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. (...)
I fear not death - the black conclusion but slavery and endless sickness Death is a common thing among us Serbs Just like Spring Summer Fall Winter and it is not so fearsome especially in daylight no more than the drought earthquake frost if one meets with it on his farm his soul cleansed with incense his honor untarnished.
Fiends well-fed and deranged, 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 hurry now, crucify me this day and I shall be resurreccted sooner!
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