Bukovica, No Man’s Land
► █░▓ THE EXPULSION of a complete native ethnic group by belligerent nationalists in 1995 has canceled all the creative essence of a considerable stretch of this new EU land. It has stripped it from its potentials in a rather suicidal fashion. The baren region between the Adriatic coast and Bosnia has a mythical air but has now become void of people and life. These super solid railroad tracks serve nothing. There are no trains that use them, no passengers traveling and no goods being transported. The act of hate backfires now already: there are no human resources here to take and support any economical growth. The epic nature is ever awe-inspiring but the lack of inhabitants renders it useless.
—FORTUNATELY, I had the privilege to be hosted by some of the few remaining people here, predominantly elderly, who carry in their wounded souls a burden and a spirit: the great past, the youthful joy and freedom intertwined with the abashment and distress of the present helplessness. In a weird quirk of destiny, they who hosted the Italian movie crew and provided set for Winnetou saga in the early 1960’s, have themselves become the “Last Mohicans” of the XX century.
Having taken part in the largest ethnic cleansing on the European soil after the WW2, the EU has also initiated its own demise and has downgraded itself to a non-credible political entity.
ꒌ ТУ НЕГДЈЕ, на крају видљивих трачница, а у сријед невидљивог свијета, чудне ониске "шуме духова", in the bush of goasts, у сурово-питомој крашкој самоћи Буковице станује мој пријатељ пјесник Борис Ћакић, који је на ову слику као лијек својој болести и споменик прохујалом добу, душе лака корака и пера брза покрета, у трену испјевао ову пјесму:
Ovom prugom više vozovi ne prolaze,
a umorni putnici na stanicu ne dolaze.
Nekada je bilo, sve prepuno svijeta.
Gužva bješe zimi,
a i preko ljeta.
I svi moji vozovi sa tom prugom prođoše,
a i snovi najljepši
u nepovrat odoše.
Nestade baš sve
u jedan tren,
a ja samo ostah začuđen
i na svaku bol
nepripremljen,
ali ne od Boga
ostavljen.
_____________________________
The cameraphone capture edited in Snapseed app.
~SHORTCUTS~ ...→Press [F11] and [L] key to engage Full Screen (Light box) mode with black background ↔ Press the same key or [Esc] to return... →Press [F] to "Like" (Fave)... →Press [C] to comment.
Bukovica, No Man’s Land
► █░▓ THE EXPULSION of a complete native ethnic group by belligerent nationalists in 1995 has canceled all the creative essence of a considerable stretch of this new EU land. It has stripped it from its potentials in a rather suicidal fashion. The baren region between the Adriatic coast and Bosnia has a mythical air but has now become void of people and life. These super solid railroad tracks serve nothing. There are no trains that use them, no passengers traveling and no goods being transported. The act of hate backfires now already: there are no human resources here to take and support any economical growth. The epic nature is ever awe-inspiring but the lack of inhabitants renders it useless.
—FORTUNATELY, I had the privilege to be hosted by some of the few remaining people here, predominantly elderly, who carry in their wounded souls a burden and a spirit: the great past, the youthful joy and freedom intertwined with the abashment and distress of the present helplessness. In a weird quirk of destiny, they who hosted the Italian movie crew and provided set for Winnetou saga in the early 1960’s, have themselves become the “Last Mohicans” of the XX century.
Having taken part in the largest ethnic cleansing on the European soil after the WW2, the EU has also initiated its own demise and has downgraded itself to a non-credible political entity.
ꒌ ТУ НЕГДЈЕ, на крају видљивих трачница, а у сријед невидљивог свијета, чудне ониске "шуме духова", in the bush of goasts, у сурово-питомој крашкој самоћи Буковице станује мој пријатељ пјесник Борис Ћакић, који је на ову слику као лијек својој болести и споменик прохујалом добу, душе лака корака и пера брза покрета, у трену испјевао ову пјесму:
Ovom prugom više vozovi ne prolaze,
a umorni putnici na stanicu ne dolaze.
Nekada je bilo, sve prepuno svijeta.
Gužva bješe zimi,
a i preko ljeta.
I svi moji vozovi sa tom prugom prođoše,
a i snovi najljepši
u nepovrat odoše.
Nestade baš sve
u jedan tren,
a ja samo ostah začuđen
i na svaku bol
nepripremljen,
ali ne od Boga
ostavljen.
_____________________________
The cameraphone capture edited in Snapseed app.
~SHORTCUTS~ ...→Press [F11] and [L] key to engage Full Screen (Light box) mode with black background ↔ Press the same key or [Esc] to return... →Press [F] to "Like" (Fave)... →Press [C] to comment.