andjeo1008's video: Prkosna pesma The Defiant Poem

"Defiant Poem I, divine daughter Serbia, with lowered head, hereby freely state, with shackles and through the wire, before my witnesses Force, Suffering and Injustice, that I am guilty and that I confess the guilt. 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 to name my greatest guilt (before I die laughing), I`m guilty, stubborn 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, therefore, 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 swoop on my orchards and fields and my little white houses along the roads adorned by green goddesses cherry, apple and plum trees. I confess, for the sake of salvation of my kin, I do not exist thus cross me off your list From now on I am only light, air and water. The three elements you can exploit. What you see speaking and walking before you is what you've turned me into. My ugly image with monstrous features that you multiply morning and evening. It`s the image of your conscience and subconsciousness That`s not me, on the outside! That`s you - on the inside. My foe. My foe, with thousand hands, with thousand servants of fabrication, you plucked my sun like an apple and my pure joy like a red poppy from a rye field. My descendants will be rage and sorrow but yours already are drinking the bitter mead for the bloody money from selling off the land of my forefathers. Destiny will pull a straitjacket over you so that the daybreak could start, for the planet will split from shame and bury all of us in the same abyss. We are very important, my dear beloved land, we and our sisters Truth and Justice for such mighty forces have rallied against us and Wrong and Injustice are sneering at us. Swarms of former men Thieves and paupers packs of robots and other monsters are flicking their tongues at my orchards and fields and my little white houses along the roads adorned by green goddesses cherry, apple and plum trees. 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. But, in vain, in vain you will lynch the most hospitable people on this planet, for which you will burn in hell, for human heart, that wonder of wonders, will not be accepted by your chest. Gentlemen, prosecutors, judges and executioners, 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, but hurry, the sooner you crucify me the sooner I will, the sooner I will, resurrect!" Dobrica Eric