SLAVA BOŽIČEVIĆ - Vremenu u prkos - ORIGINAL ZA ŠTAMPU PDF (1)

["YOU You are my turmoil, sleepless nights, furious dawns, afternoon dreaming. Your strong arms are swaying me, breaking me, cuddling me. Your heart-shaped lips, beautiful and soft, passionate, are taking me to my peace. 51","TOUTTIU\u0106TUI\u0106B*MBWMW20200202 IIITTTssshhhtttoaeeee \u010dmnssseaaaai\u017emmmssnlneeeijaegsltbolhrkanuooyvgjuaneiisgmannhatgaaktbssmrtosiurvvtustieanrrncujoeatsuh,.,rrohuegahrtosu. r heads, psAstAovkrnTeiegdpusebpktTtliiaiu\u0107cn\u017e\u010dtlge2oei\u01070stigh0e2brre20lai0anb\u017eg2neiorcaduikesbn,cmihdldoiuraes\u017e\u017errnedariireyev. sriten,oe,cgcmoeouesvn.teetrr,itehse, roads, PptFfhieiuevevtretgeudndyckaaoaoansyuumasdnw,,arttw\u017eirjzteaiehaedvegsaamkrdnsldyiiatiIvjianeic.rdalemien,m\u2019sut.os,gu 5522","They ask me why I don\u2019t laugh, the mirror gives a dead look back to me, anxiety presses my shoulders. And Tuti\u0107 2002 is flying to me over the countries five it\u2019s getting closer and closer to me. With a smile, you\u2019re telling me, Do my days or nights mean anything without you? I\u2019m here, with you, I\u2019m there where you are. Tuti\u0107 has already learnt its road. It\u2019s flown to you and it loves you. Love doesn\u2019t admit limits or distances. * TUTI\u0106 meaning \u201cthat dear cute lovely car\u201d (translator\u2019s note) 53","DO YOU HEAR ME? My heart is like the sea tide, immersed in love; my soul is drunken with happiness and joy for having you. My life would be a desert without you. Do you hear me? You are my breath, my life. Do you hear our souls singing, our hearts beating, dancing? Living with you is the gift from heaven. 54","LOVE POEM You\u2019re hugging me as if you want to melt my heart and soul into you. Your lips are at one moment a breeze, and at the other a biting flame. The scream of happiness has yelled. A tremble and spasm stopped, And you\u2019re crying silently on my chest and whispering the oath of love, My happiness, you mean the world to me, you are my life. Powerless, dazed, besotted, breathless, I don\u2019t want to open my eyes, I don\u2019t want to move. My body, my mind, the whole of me are absorbing the moment. I feel the bliss of love. 55","A BLISSFUL MOMENT You\u2019ve wrapped me with tenderness, You\u2019re keeping me warm with fervent love, You\u2019re swaying me in the happiness arms. You\u2019ve built the nest for me, You live for me. I gave you my heart; and all of me. I love to lose myself In your arms And forget about time. 56","I DON\u2019T WANT TO WAKE UP You\u2019ve ignited the sun in my soul and moved the ocean waves in my heart. I live only when you are next to me like right now. Leant on you, I feel the exuberance of spring, I\u2019m absorbing the smell of your body, of your tobacco, and of this magical sea. You\u2019re combing my hair and whispering something tender. That\u2019s the echo of my soul and heart. We are one soul. I\u2019m listening to your heart beating strongly and quickly. Mine is replying the same. I want to melt into you, I\u2019m losing myself in your arms and I don\u2019t want to wake up. 57","TO MURAT Forgive me for sometimes being distant, lonely, gloomy; mean; For not believing you, for scolding you, turning you down. That\u2019s because I\u2019m searching in you The you that even you don\u2019t know. That\u2019s why I torture you, lie to you, challenge you. I want to take the best, I want everything; Even more than you know you have and are giving to me. Don\u2019t fight me, give me the whole of you. I\u2019m going to surrender myself to you, I\u2019ll dwell in you, and we\u2019ll be burning with the flame of love and happiness. 58","LOVE STORY I\u2019m dreaming of you...I\u2019m waiting for you...Come... All doors of my body and all windows of my soul are open to you. Hands are raising on their own into an embrace. Wireless link of love connects us. I\u2019m afraid my heart will jump out of my body to meet you. Come! Put out my fire! You must come! You came...with the embrace full of love. I got immersed in your embrace. The thunder of craving calmed down. We enjoy the silent embrace with our tired bodies. Our souls have merged into each other; as the deepest river\u2019s currents merge or when the morning\u2019s blue dives into day\u2019s birth. I wished for the time that Space around us has got; the time of ETERNITY. Summers and winters have passed... You\u2019re kissing me gently, My soul gets warm by your kisses. You\u2019re my day\u2019s light, you\u2019re telling me; And you are my sun, I\u2019m replying. I love this silent love that gives rest, feels warm, offers reliance and safety. It resembles the river that flows calmly, slowly in a wide, green valley. 59","We love each other, sacred words are they...Our eyes are beaming with love. We caught the Rainbow, the saint thread that connects heavens and earth. And today, when we\u2019re decorated with grays, when we wake up wrapped in love And smile at each other as friends, we know that we are happy people. We were born on the same day, same month, we\u2019ve got the same blood type, the same soul have we got. We don\u2019t live in vain, we still enjoy the nectar of fairy- tale-like flower of love. 60","DEATH IS KNOCKING ON THE DOOR Once again, there was my meeting with death... Human beings are the only beings on this planet who are aware that they must die. The understanding of life defines the attitude to death, and the attitude to death impacts the attitude to life. Death, being inevitable for all of us and as such the guarantee of equality among people, warns us that we must be prepared for it. It is a severe, decisive moment in life in which the state of mind is exceptionally important. Antun Gustav Mato\u0161 wrote something very lucidly, We are getting out of death and we are going into death, like a bridge out of darkness into darkness, from the secrets of life to sacramental mysteries. Then, Mephisto in Faust is saying to Faust, Death isnever really dear to anyone. Yes, we are afraid of the mystery of death. There is the eternal question of whether the soul as a person\u2019s vital principle dies together with the body or it moves to a new life in this endless Universe. As a being of time, a human knows that the flow of time gives and takes everything, that transience is the law, and that\u2019s why one, a human, organizes funeral rites and ceremonies in all cultures of the world since one is going into a mystery. In the contemporary busy world, with callousness as a consequence, the social attitude towards someone else\u2019s death has changed significantly. In the previous century, the family of the dying or deceased was by his 61","side \u2013 the social community reacted to the loss of its member. Today, most people die in hospital, alone. This new wave of dying is the picture of our alienated society because someone else\u2019s death mustn\u2019t bother anyone. Life and death are a permanent unity; therefore, we must respect death, too, and show our respect to it. There\u2019s nothing new in dying, since someone\u2019s life is nothing else but a journey to death, Seneca said. 62","BCRLANCI KOBCLOAKUD WAIHHAIBPYTBYTBLDKTPZTNOIZBO\u2019noomaelaghhaarnnjioouoo\u0161loeeeceauueltorddineedxllism\u0107klusninekzossaifpiamatiakgvdamvrlesultu\u0161limernoy.ijuarhcletoo\u010ctsoatetedt.arieiiaakbytarjtei!bivencvW\u010ds.asenhch.nd.llgtiakgiaeBtgte.veNlvojuem\u2013iearhji.laesc!oetuv.otrogibiiNinNurmto.igrsltim.\u0107!gmieninHjuno\u2013hsoanceiyobaitgon\u0107dtorooc.\u2013opgi\u017ettrmnsrtge\u017emamsem.du\u017eehejeerp.araeaera!ei.farm\u2013ighmranantonedperacasgIidatolvishhptli.jid..terimanjpasjouoeure.uttot.tg\u0161mitwhnhgcuuhsoeteeeo..aei.rd.nSn.,yigohneauimeatbtr\u017ehbyisri.yvsdooot.fhtulaielf!.eth! under. 6633","HAPPINESS IS LEAKING OUT OF MY HANDS The harmony of our souls and pure love Begot happiness which Was spreading pearls all over us. Twenty-six years ago We caught the rainbow, That sacred thread, Linking heaven and earth. WE are beaming with happiness, That\u2019s what people are saying to us. We are aware of that And also humble about that. And now, that happiness is leaking out of my hands, Through my fingers. Unstoppably. Death is taking him away from me, my happiness, My love, my life. Never to come back. I\u2019m losing him forever. Happiness is leaking out of my hands...through my fingers... 64","OUR WATCH Our watch has started ticking by Only for us. Our watch. \u2013 Two years, said the doctor. Time is what we need. How can I stop it? Damned transience. Invisible force Is wresting My dearest from me. Chaos in my head. My body paralysed. My heart captured by a spasm, Like a stone. Panic in my soul. Our watch has started ticking by. 65","66","Fight for life\u2026 in defiance of time! 67","68","FORGET ABOUT OUR WATCH Each one of the two of us fought in one\u2019s own way to feel good. We travelled during the breaks between chemothera- pies and pain-suffering. I felt that he was saying goodbye to some dear places, where we were particularly hap- py. He wanted to experience them once again together with me. He loved to see me beautifully dressed and was happy to buy me special items of clothing, and he knew how to choose the most suitable ones for me. He gener- ally loved beautiful things around him. We behaved as if carefree; we spent time together with our friends and celebrated every moment given to us as a gift. Festivities and celebration are at the same time a kind of gratitude. Sometimes, we would also start dancing. It was neither euphoria nor resistance \u2013 defiance against death. At the time when he was without pain, everything was as it used to be before. We talked openly about everything. I was delighted by his wisdom acquired through life. He had a benevolent sense of humour and was entertaining. Peo- ple loved him and remembered him. One day we were having our lunch in a beautiful, rustic restaurant nearby our town. We often came there with friends to have dinner. Fine music was being played silently, the atmosphere was comfortable. A waiter was serving us some food, and then came the other who hand- ed out a bottle of wine to me, adorned with a silk ribbon, \u2013 This is the gift for the lady from the restaurant. We were reading a beautiful article about you in the newspa- per yesterday. It is our honour. 69","It was an interview with me about my exhibition of Christmas customs all over the world published on two pages of a newspaper. I thanked them, feeling surprised since it was not usu- al in Sweden. Feeling amazed, I asked my love, \u2013 Did you take any part in this? \u2013 No, I didn\u2019t. I took you to lunch here as some kind of award to you and brought Champagne to celebrate the in- terview together with you. The article is excellent. But, now we are going to drink this wine, and leave the Champagne for dinner. We were chatting all the time through lunch. We felt happy. When we were getting back to the car, some anxiety overwhelmed me; something in me was telling me that everything was an illusion. He felt what I was feeling, he recognised my worry. He swerved off the road and stopped the car. He embraced me only to tell me, \u2013 Forget about our watch. Let\u2019s enjoy life while we can. You are brave. I\u2019m making an effort, too. I don\u2019t want this illness of mine to make a wrinkle on your beautiful face. I\u2019m still in love with you, except for loving you. I\u2019m happy for having you by my side. We\u2019re hugging and kissing each other. I accepted the delusion of life. 70","SFVESET\u010cIAVNITOYST PONLSIISSPIKSWWMtIWOBWSWssnshriolrurreuduetttaneeeeeereooeuduiist\u0107rveac\u2019\u2019\u2019s\u0107dhdd\u0161owdrrvlsmaoieenpohkleeoenmometmoeoetmorostjtykednckesegvhreokoamfmsetreas\u2019oideodnueoittoaseldlemn\u0107erietjuuersbrpmbn\u0111udcetaasoitseb\u0161earoiyejnnbgo,n\u0161hJjeeevairdrheanramcigehnarmcegnrmounnatiohtaotiomosovrppiujioio\u0111opp\u0111a.ednnorenoruaan,epmd\u2019Nueigneettsrdpnninhihandts.anoemvlOaehdnu,ieya\u0161ueesauJeba,rdasdasrspnr.nrlmeasdesnorrdb,a.W.dtuiiuooic\u017djmf.grada.autiHtot,vretlhteylmceyjdld.ho\u2019ejps.aaa.fejy.ysof.,,rt\u0161iilelnadlisv.e, 71 71","IN THE EARLY EVENING Dusk on the lake UIs sPcRatEtDerVinEg\u010clEaRvJisEhly Its vivid red colors. TRSPSSTWAWWWjuvoihaneeee\u0161rotsseddaiotjkleanpeiosonwxromaipvje\u017eil\u0161ineseseeomanstaanddreo.intoktcjoakbtae.eronciayzankhw\u2019nceztghlrrabuootavuohatpvopehniceidnnpeunztekirljhanj.ewebgoeeprofisbtlosjOhjeee.tun.enbrciei.hWad,uiaevttmylcjehban.nrjadacaeddm. iration. Volimo se. Sre\u0107om umotani. I ne mislimo na Na\u0161 sat. 72","OUR DAY Cheers! Cheers! Our friends are cheering. Our home is full of people. Journalists are also there, a TV team. Again, we\u2019re celebrating our birthdays; His 75th, the jubilee, and my 74th. We\u2019re hugging each other, feeling happy. I\u2019m whispering into his ear, We\u2019ve won! Death have we beaten, For the sixth year already. We\u2019re fighting together for each hour, for every second of our lives\u2026For us; So that we are together, for a little, little longer. 73","DELUSION I\u2019m accepting the DELUSION. We\u2019ve still alive in the spring of 2010. We are looking forward to it. The trees of lilac in the garden only started to bud in that northern country. Forest flowers bud only on the 1st of May. This spring is warm. We\u2019re enjoying the garden or the balcony bordered with tulips and daffodils. He loved flowers and often brought them to me. I gave him a comfortable armchair. We are playing cards while drinking the afternoon coffee. We\u2019re joking\u2026.retelling events and adventures. We\u2019re having wonderful conversations. We\u2019re breathing the spring in. We don\u2019t walk any more. The disease is devouring him. He is too weak. Oxygen probes are racking his nerves. I\u2019m aware that this is Our last spring. And I am so happy that he is still here next to me, smiling at me. 74","FAREWELL Dedicated to Murat We don\u2019t speak. We know everything. Our hearts are bleeding. Our souls are embracing. Your sunken, tired eyes are speaking of how difficult is this last fight for you. I\u2019m holding your arm where the medicine\u2019s flowing and I\u2019m praying to the heavens not to take you yet. Perhaps another better medicine is invented tomorrow. I\u2019m whispering to you, Here we are again with several days of life more so we can be together a little longer. Fight. I\u2019m begging you. I need you. You\u2019re smiling mildly, I feel a light hold of your hand, you\u2019re holding the thumb of your other hand up. What a fighter. How brave is he! We don\u2019t speak. We know everything. Our hearts are bleeding. Our souls are embracing. 75","When life storms and quakes were beating me, your embrace softened the blows. My headlong falls from the clouds would land on your strong, safe hands, always. You knew how to heal my wounds Like you would comb Gently my hair. I don\u2019t know, my dear, if I gave you back All the good you gave me on our long road of happiness. Let this song be a small THANKS for growing old together and loving each other madly. We don\u2019t cry. We don\u2019t speak. We know everything. Our hearts are bleeding. Our souls are embracing. 76","IN THE GRAVEYARD It is the beginning of May, a sunny afternoon. We\u2019re walking through the park. He feels better today and he doesn\u2019t need supplemental oxygen. He is turning his way to the graveyard. I\u2019m following him. I keep silent. Recent- ly, I\u2019ve been more and more silent. I feel like I don\u2019t know what I\u2019ve known and learnt so far any more. I live only through the current day and now. I am waiting. \u2013 We\u2019ll sit on this bench, under these beautiful birches, he said. I\u2019m following. I keep silent. I\u2019m afraid, I don\u2019t know what of. I\u2019ve never been here. Everything is quiet. We are quiet, too. I\u2019m looking around. Peace rests solemnly somehow in this small valley. On a gentle rise stands a small, white, simple chapel with a tower. Underneath it is a stone wall; on it is built in a brass plate with an opening for water, which flows into a small lake under that wall. It is the work of a local sculptor. An elegant, black marble statue of a young woman in a long dress stands on a spacious, neatly mowed green meadow. Her arms are crossed and someone has put a bouquet of red roses there. Tall hanging birches keep her company, looking like long-haired girls. In the tree-crowns dwells a dense peace. There is no breath of wind. Black wrought-iron candelabra stand next to the water fountain, to the side of it. Little candles are burning in them. Two low white stone tables with built- in vases are filled with bouquets of fresh flowers. All this is encircled by bushes with white-and-pink flowers and 77","only a few leaf buds. Wooden benches with backs are made beautifully. MINNESLUND is the name of this nice place (translator\u2019s note \u2013 Minnesbund is the Swedish word, meaning something like Remembrance Grove). Cremated people are buried there without names or monuments. \u2013 It is nice here, he says, almost cheerfully. \u2013 Bury me here. I arranged and wrote everything at the funeral home. You have no worries. They will call you by themselves when it\u2019s time. That\u2019s how it works here \u2013 he says in a firm voice. I cringed. My heart stopped and my chest hurts. What is he saying! When was he in the funeral home on his own, when I was with him all the time? I agree that everyone\u2019s got the right to determine their own funeral. I don\u2019t agree that he goes to the common grave. Now, there\u2019s no discussion...too late. I\u2019m looking at him. His face is beautiful, calm, serene and gentle as if he were talking about a film. I admire his strength, determination, reason and courage. He became grand to me. Elusive. Like a saint. \u2013 I\u2019ll be there; do everything as you wish. It\u2019s agreed, I hear myself replying mechanically. I\u2019m appalled at my voice, it sounds as if I were making arrangements to go to the cinema. He took my hand and rested his head on my shoul- der. I remain silent and wait for him to make himself comfortable. The silence around us was even quieter. Even the birds didn\u2019t sing. Or I didn\u2019t hear them. I take his hands with my other hand. I feel numb... He\u2019s telling me in a sweet voice: 78","79 80","\u2013 All I lived, that was the life with you... He pauses a bit and then continues again. I am happy and fulfilled. Don\u2019t be sad when I\u2019m gone. Enjoy with your children, don\u2019t work as much as you do now. Take care. He pauses and continues in a slightly louder voice. \u2013 Time passes for you, too. I\u2019ve felt calm since you told me you were going to Rovigno. Everyone loves you there. You deserve to have a good life. I have never loved anyone like you. You are still beautiful... don\u2019t let anyone hurt you. He stopped talking...as if he fell asleep...I can\u2019t see his face, because his head is bent. I hug him quietly. I am si- lent. I\u2019m frozen. My stiff neck and my heart that doesn\u2019t seem to be beating hurt. My mouth is frozen shut; I can\u2019t open it to tell him I love him... I don\u2019t know whether I\u2019m breathing or not. HE IS SAYING GOODBYE TO ME! I\u2019m dying with him, too. I don\u2019t know anything any more. I\u2019m losing him. We\u2019ve lost the battle. He is slipping out of my hands \u2013 out of life. Forever. That\u2019s the end. Death won as always. \u2013 I\u2019ll be by your side till the end...I\u2019ll hold your hand till the last breath. Don\u2019t be afraid! \u2013 I can hear myself almost whispering; but I\u2019d rather trumpet as loud as an elephant to kick all that awful pain out of my chest and throat. \u2013 I\u2019m not afraid of death. What I\u2019m afraid of is me be- coming that weak so you are forced to struggle with me. I\u2019m still speechless; I can\u2019t open my mouth. We were sitting embraced I don\u2019t know how long. We were silent. \u2013 Let\u2019s go home slowly, it\u2019s late \u2013 I whispered. \u2013 Let\u2019s go \u2013 he muttered. Hugging each other, we headed towards the exit of the graveyard. 80","ABSENT-MINDEDNESS One day I found out that he was somehow different, beatific, slightly smiling, and somehow solemn in his face. His look was a little strange as if he was looking above me. There was no more that childlike, honest look at the pupil of the eye. The posture of the body has also changed. It was as if he straightened up. He\u2019s different. It\u2019s as if he switched to another track or channel. I can\u2019t reach him any more. He talks to me and cooper- ates, but he is distant. Terrified, I saw \u2013 death is here, nearby, he feels it. It is here among us. Death is holding his hand. Now, it is really over. He is slipping out of my hands. Absent-mindedness of a dying person \u2013 there are no words that can describe that condition, regardless of how much talented writers, philosophers or sages we may be. The moment of self-knowledge of death has come. That is the absent-mindedness of a dying person \u2013 the contact with oneself. I haven\u2019t got access to his elemen- tal solitude any longer. His soul is being divided from mine. I must reconcile myself to that and show respect be- cause this is his real true fight - here in this world...And I\u2019m dying, too. \u201cAbsent-mindedness \u2013 the moment of dying is the last chance for us, based on all resources of life serenity, to make real contact with ourselves. 81","That\u2019s why that moment isn\u2019t necessarily a tragic bat- tle with the inevitable, but only a small phase of the pro- cess of life and death, in which we participate as creators. That is the internal, lonesome journey through an amorphous silence, which provides us with a haven in our own primordial nature and wisdom. The obsession with external objects isn\u2019t the means of getting to self-reflection or to spreading freedom, serenity or creativity. They are brought to us by focused attention that in touch with the last revive the most of our strength and happiness. Worldly fame and prosperity can even represent great obstacles on the spiritual path. In order to achieve true satisfaction and the light of inner peace, the ego must be cleansed of everything worldly.\u201d (The quote from the book by Maja Mil\u010dinski, Philoso- phy and Death, p. 159) He noticed that I was pensive, maybe I looked ap- palled. I don\u2019t know. I didn\u2019t cry; I run out of tears while I was crying quietly during my solitary moments. The heart was bleeding. \u2013 Come over here, let\u2019s sit, I\u2019m a little tired. I\u2019m fixing his oxygen tubes. We\u2019re sitting hugged and silent. 82","We are dying 83","PARTING OF THE SOULS Hot July. Tuesday, the 20th of 2010. Hospital...He\u2019s lying exhausted, feeble, as small as a child in a white bed. Oxygen, catheter, morphine. I threw the big hospital clock out of the room. Our watch is also not important any more. I don\u2019t need time any more. I need words, and I\u2019m speechless. Petrified. I\u2019m dying with him. They brought one more bed in his room for me. I\u2019m holding his warm feeble hand. I ask whether he feels the pain. \u2013 No, nothing hurts me. Sit here next to me. You\u2019re wearing a beautiful skirt today, he says in a weak voice. I burst into quiet laughter. How comes the strength in him to tell me that when he\u2019s dying? \u2013 You\u2019ve always been a bit crazy and that\u2019s why I love you, I\u2019m saying in a sweet voice. \u2013 I love you, too. I\u2019m sorry I have to leave you alone. I\u2019m done for, Slavica \u2013 he says and looks into my eyes knowingly and consciously. His eyes were getting blurry. I took his hand and kissed it. I couldn\u2019t think of any words. I have no mind. I\u2019m not crying. I\u2019m paralysed. I\u2019m horrified by seeing him facing death eye-to-eye and ig- noring it. All my love and affection for him turned into admiration \u2013 how strong, self-conscious, and brave he is. The doctor and nurse are entering the room. They are doing their regular check. \u2013 Call when you need anything. 84","He took a little nap. I\u2019m holding his hands and I feel a bit stiff. I feel nothing. I was overwhelmed by dullness. The beats of this agony are dripping. The drama is walking to its end. My friend Gospa enters the room. She\u2019s whispering: \u2013 I brought you some pancakes and juice. You must eat or you won\u2019t bear it. She looked at Murat in bed, put her finger on her mouth and headed to the door. At that moment, he opened his eyes and smiled slightly at Gospa. \u2013 I\u2019m sorry, I\u2019ve woken you up. I\u2019ve brought some pan- cakes and juice for you and I came to say hello to you. I\u2019m also going for a medical examination. \u2013 Thanks, he said so weakly that we could hardly hear him. Gospa waved her hand and went out of the room. I\u2019m still holding his hands and don\u2019t move. He falls asleep again. He doesn\u2019t cough. When he opened his already blurred eyes, I asked him whether he would like some water. The infusions didn\u2019t help any more. He gave the sign by his eyes and head that he would. I lifted his head with the help of the pillow and gave him two teaspoons of water. I adjusted his pillow a little and put him back to lie. He gave me the sign by his hand that I get closer to him. \u2013 Don\u2019t be sad and unhappy. You\u2019re beautiful and live on, he whispered. I embraced both him and the pillow. A spasm tight- ened my throat; a pain in my chest; darkness in my brain. He takes care of and worries about me even during these 85","last seconds of his life. I can\u2019t tell him a word because my mouth and speech power are paralysed. That he was ev- erything in my life and that he made the sense of my life come true have I already told him before. Those years were testing years when it came to our maturity, love, honesty, altruism, and spirituality. And now, I\u2019m the one who\u2019s not alive. I can\u2019t either think or speak. One tiny piece of my consciousness is functioning because I\u2019m me- chanically doing the tasks set for me. He was sleeping for a long time. He was lying still, breathing lightly through the oxygen tubes. I\u2019m activating the apparatus for morphine \u2013 only that nothing can hurt him again. He woke up after some time. He was looking for me with his eyes. I get closer to the mouth and ask whether anything hurts him. He shakes his head slightly as a sign of no. I\u2019m watching him. He didn\u2019t seem to have a spasm caused by pain. The expression on his face was calm and serene; even beautiful \u2013 like a saint, somehow; or I got crazy. I wetted his mouth with a piece of gauze. I\u2019m afraid of giving him some water because I\u2019m not sure whether he can swallow it. He looks at me. His mouth opens a bit. I got my head and ear closer to his mouth. He wants to say something. \u2013 SLAVICA \u2013 he whispered so weakly that I could hard- ly hear him. He closes his eyes. He couldn\u2019t look any more. He knew I was there, by his side, that he was not alone. What he wanted to say will remain a secret forever. I called for the nurse who came immediately. \u2013 Give him Stesolid as well. He mustn\u2019t feel the pain. We don\u2019t have anything to lose. 86","\u2013 Would you like to give him the injection? \u2013 she\u2019s asking. \u2013 No \u2013 I shook my head. I didn\u2019t want to cause him any, not even the slightest pain. I know that after Stesolid he will never regain con- sciousness. The doctor and I talked about it. Everything was ready for this. I\u2019m lying on the other bed next to his and holding his hand as I promised him \u201cuntil the last breath\u201d. I am waiting. It\u2019s over. I\u2019m losing him. The sun of my life am I losing. I don\u2019t feel anything. I just know that I should have died then, too. His pulse can be barely felt. Now the organism starts to fight and Cheyne-Stokes Respirations begin, which are horrible to listen to and less unpleasant for the patient because he is no longer conscious. I know everything and I knew the entire course of the disease at the very beginning when the diagnosis was made. I forgot one thing, which is that the heart does not listen to the brain. Murat was at an advantage because he had never seen such a patient. He obeyed us, the doctors and me, and believed us. When the doctor told him during one of the check-ups that he could thank me for his extended life because he got it with great care and concern, he said, \u2013 I know that, doctor. She is my good fairy and the sun in my life. That\u2019s why I chased her for thousands and thou- sands of kilometres for years. Now I\u2019m sorry for her wor- rying so much about me. In the ward, we had a lot of privileges and the medi- cal protocol was not so strict for us as it usually is. Murat delighted the staff with his positivity and humour. They loved us. 87","In the evening, my friend Eldiana came to help, so that I could rest a little. We stayed up all night. She moistened his mouth with wet gauze, and I held his hand. A dying person los- es one\u2019s sight first, then one\u2019s sense of touch, and final- ly one\u2019s sense of hearing. The nurse peeked only a few times through the door left ajar. Only the fan and his la- boured breathing could be heard. His heart is strong. The time has come. He exhaled his last breath at six o\u2019clock in the morning, on Wednesday; long, sonorous, the last. I put his hand back on his chest gently. I called for the nurse. I opened the window so that the soul could fly away into unknown secret distances \u2013 to the sky, among the stars. That last breath, that energy doesn\u2019t disappear. It has to have a meaning and find its place somewhere. When I opened the window to let his soul go out, a big white butterfly appeared on the window immediately, at the same moment. It was very unusual for a butterfly to fly onto the third floor so early in the morning. It\u2019s not a phantasm. Eldiana saw it, too. We looked at each other. Once in the hospital, she witnessed a conversation between Murat and me, in which we made jokes about death. In the conversation, he promised to turn into a butterfly or a bird so he could still be by my side. It\u2019s over. Death has won. It\u2019s torn apart our souls... forever. The fortress of happiness has crumbled\u2026.There is no WE any more. He is now at an unknown address. May the angels play heavenly symphonies in his honour. There\u2019s only me left, alone and wounded. The wound is bleeding; my soul lost. 88","I WAS YOUR PRINCESS You gave me wings to fly into spaces, strewing my way with golden flowers. You gave me happiness in life, Gave me love as deep as the ocean. You didn\u2019t buy me expensive jewels. You loved me loyally, purely, deeply, With your every breath. You wrapped me in a web of tenderness. Your heart was beating for me. \u201cYou\u2019re my princess. You\u2019re beautiful to me,\u201d You\u2019d often say to me. Also, people surrounding us told us, \u201cHere is your princess coming,\u201d Or, \u201cWhere\u2019s your princess?\u201d when I wasn\u2019t with him. They rarely called me by my name, He would answer then, \u201cYes, that\u2019s just my princess. I love her being a princess.\u201d I was a princess in a castle of happiness, once in a lifetime only to my Murat. I was your princess... 89","CARRY IT, WIND Dedicated to Murat Carry this verse, wind; it\u2019s the cry of my soul and the greeting of my heart. Carry it, wind, somewhere far away, beyond the web-like clouds. Carry it to him, to the playful dancing stars. Summers and winters are passing since you dwell there. My soul is a desert without you. My heart is still screaming for you. Every evening I watch the stars. I\u2019m looking for you. I\u2019m greeting you. I\u2019m waking up in the blue of the dawn when I\u2019m flooded with the tender memories of our happy mornings. I need you because I love you, You were my Guardian Angel. Go on being that to me. Summers and winters are passing, and I\u2019m fading without you. I was my real self with you, Nobody has loved me as you did, That\u2019s why I\u2019m celebrating you. 90","Carry this verse, wind; it\u2019s the cry of my soul and the greeting of my heart. Carry it, wind, somewhere far away... 91","MY ANGEL North wind has brought YOU to my heart and soul, to my mind and all my body\u2019s pores. I found home and peace in Your heart... You were my everything and all around me is a part of You; it still is; the country you loved and birds you fed and flowers you planted for me, the clothes you put on me and the sea and wind you loved, just like me. Your body doesn\u2019t exist any more. But, you are there, everywhere around me. Breeze touches my face, I know it\u2019s you, the sea wave is cuddling my legs, I know \u2013 that\u2019s you. A butterfly is fluttering around me, yes, that\u2019s You dancing... You\u2019re my Guardian Angel. 92","NIGHT VISITOR The night is putting down its black crinoline, the goddess of darkness is opening her windows and letting out her spells. You are not there on the pillow by my side. I\u2019ve been healing my broken heart since the day when you walked out to the eternity path. My tears dried up, loneliness replaced sadness, solitude became my friend. Wrapped in sorrow, I\u2019m sinking into a dream. Night has its magic. I\u2019m afraid of a demon invisible, intangible, importunate who\u2019s ordering me to call Your name out loud and to wake up old memories of happiness. Night visitor is unfolding in front of my eyes Our long walk through Paradise... ........................................................................................................... I wrote hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of paper sheets with poems, little notes of content like this and the similar, thinking that I\u2019m going to throw my pain out of my bosom onto the paper. Perhaps, so that I feel less pain. Otherwise, I performed my everyday tasks normally, I dived into a lot of work, organised several exhibitions on various contents and topics \u2013 all that so I could make my brain busy, I acted a role in a TV series. I published my work in common collections 93","of poetry. I travelled, I changed my town of residence, was surrounded by a lot of people who didn\u2019t notice the root of my problem or I hid it skilfully. After some time, I realized I needed professional help to solve this obsession problem, which was more and more and more difficult for me to tackle. I contacted the Institute for such cases in Stockholm and started attending a course. I am grateful to the team of that institution, who helped me understand the background of my desperation after losing the loved one. Those were the accumulated unrelieved deaths of my mother, without whom I\u2019ve been growing and living since I was seven years old, I was brought up by her parents; then the death of my loved older brother, who shot himself at the age of twenty-three after he\u2019d got to know that he\u2019d had a fatal type of cancer. At that time I was in love and the tragedy didn\u2019t touch me as hard as it would otherwise, but it left scars on my soul. My brother and I were close, although he dwelled at our father\u2019s place after our mother\u2019s death, and me at our grandparents\u2019. The death of my first husband, who was stricken by a brain infarction at the Olympics in Sarajevo in 1984, brought a complete 360-degree change in my life. All that strengthened the shock after this most recent loss of the loved one and erupted into an unbearable psychological condition. My innate love for life, stamina and persistence of the Capricorn sign of the Zodiac, and then professional help by people from the Institute, helped me comprehend the whole circle of traumas, which I didn\u2019t have enough time to grieve for various reasons, because life play always made me move on to other tasks. The people from the Institute suggested that I should continue attending the course and become a professional teacher of the SORG-Sorrowing courses. I accepted it and today I have got the American diploma in \u201cHow to overcome sorrow\u201d. I lectured in several towns in Sweden and here in Croatia in the Palliative Care group. Help is needed since we know very little about grieving and we are usually unprepared. 94","SORROWING, GRIEVING Sorrowing and grieving are a process that results in a deeper awareness of the preciousness of life. It enables us to accept fear, horror, and worry in a new way, but it also enables us to experience joy and peace more inten- sively. As opposed to death, grieving has never been either senseless or in vain. By grieving for the loved ones, we are continuing their lives in a way. Through our grieving, we dedicate a part of our lives to accomplishing their life goals. At the same time, we are completing the part of life that they shared with us. From a new point of view, we perceive more clearly the part of us that was under the strongest influ- ence of their life. At some moments, we can\u2019t overcome sorrow while we are grieving. If we know what is happening to us, we\u2019ll manage events more easily. I\u2019ve learnt that within the grieving study. Covert feelings in a permanently changed relation- ship after the death of a loved one can make the accept- ance of the loss more difficult; namely, in the name of love and great affection for me, my beloved husband made me dependent on him \u2013 he tended to make situations easier for me everywhere: \u2013 I\u2019ll make that, and you do what you need to do, or \u2013 You don\u2019t have to drive the car, I\u2019ll take you and I\u2019ll pick you up; \u2013 Don\u2019t worry; I\u2019ll do that, etc. 95","I enjoyed the attention as a sign of love. The harmony of life together consists of a thousand tiny touches which connect what happens in the two souls living together. I didn\u2019t notice that I was becoming an addict. Such inter- twining of power and love usually means that partners became very dependent on each other because they in- vested much energy in their relationship. I\u2019ve been in- dependent, defined, and determined before. Addiction is one of the biggest problems that are a part of every grieving. That\u2019s why it was so difficult for me to get close to the fact that I have to move on alone when everything around me is hopeless, empty and senseless. THERE IS NO WE ANY MORE. Many a thing changes when a loved one dies because a person who\u2019s not there doesn\u2019t build the common story any more. That\u2019s why the bereaved often resort to solitude. One must work on oneself; to resist mental and social solitude. We need people to make a conversation. Those who succumb to solitude miss the chance of getting back to life, and death wins another victory. Life returns everything. There\u2019s no resistance with- out a fight. Success can\u2019t be made if you\u2019re not ready to oppose the established rules and prejudices of oth- er people. There\u2019s an established proverb \u2013 Time heals everything! What nonsense! Imagine that you drive a car, alone, and the front tyre gets flat. You are going out of the car, you confirm the fact and there\u2019s the question of how to react; to replace it with a spare tyre if you know how to do it, call for S.O.S, stop a passing-by car for help, or sit next to the car and cry. TIME FLOWS. You have to do something while it\u2019s 96","flowing. TIME DOESN\u2019T HEAL ANYTHING. Time is an ab- stract category. Nothing will be as it was before. We must accept that. We must get closer to that awareness gradually. At the beginning, one shouldn\u2019t feel embarrassed or afraid of the need to speak with the deceased as a kind of relief; although we know that the person is not there any more. It happens that we want to say something and turn to the armchair where the deceased usually sat. Those reactions are normal because we were doing that for years. Repeat that as rarely as you can. In that way, you\u2019ll slowly get used to the fact that the deceased really isn\u2019t there any more and you\u2019ll adapt your thoughts to reality gradually. The therapeutic meaning of time in the process of grieving is accomplished if we try to understand. The longer you grieve, the more relieved. We must be sincere with ourselves. We\u2019ll always carry the grief in ourselves, but let\u2019s try to think about good and beauti- ful memories that can be carried more easily by the grief. One should respect one\u2019s own life that is given to us and move forward bravely. In defiance of time! Don\u2019t walk in darkness, switch on the light! 97","A SPARK OF LIGHT Surrounded by hundreds of people, I communicate, I work on various projects and my work is recognised. I still don\u2019t smile or know of the joy. Emotions petrified. I do everything mechanically. Three years have passed since my loved one died. I\u2019ve made a lot of changes in my life. I went back from Sweden; I moved to and settled in Rovigno (Rovinj). I am satisfied there. My best friend lives there. I spend more time with my daughter who lives in Zagreb. I live between Rovigno (Rovinj), Zagreb and Sweden. I travel often. One moment...on one day I was invited to the promotion of the common anthology of poems at a poetic meeting. I couldn\u2019t recite my poem because I started crying. It was clear to me that I\u2019m still in the active process of grieving. A colleague did that on my behalf. I listened to the recitations of other poets absent-mindedly. A pleasant voice and an impressive interpretation of an interesting poem woke me up from my lethargy. I took a look at the man, but he didn\u2019t leave any impression on me except that I noticed he had put his long hair into a little pigtail on the back of his head and tightened it with a rubber band. I thought, \u2013 Dear God, what did he need that little pigtail for, he didn\u2019t have to act a poet, he was a poet. I closed my eyes and I just listened to him; as if something moved in me. Then the other poets took their 98","turns, then the supper, and then sleeping. The next day we all greeted each other and parted till the next year. Out of the blue, there appeared the poet with the little pigtail and was giving me his hand as a sign of greeting. \u2013 Who are you? \u2013 I asked. At the same time, a friend of his who is at the door is calling him to hurry up. My interlocutor opened a big bag in a hurry and handed out a book to me. \u2013 I\u2019m the one. Goodbye! \u2013 he said and went away in a hurry. At home, I was reading and reading and reading his poetry once and once again from the beginning. He ex- perienced his poems; they are sincere, impressive, some of them a little rough, meaning without literary adorn- ments. He seduced me with his poems. I found out his phone number and thanked him for the book. He called me one day to tell me that he was work- ing on a common anthology of poems and asked me to send my five poems as soon as possible to contribute to the anthology. I told him that my poems were not like his and that I didn\u2019t know how to send them or copy them by means of the computer. He was listening to my babbling, and said, \u2013 You\u2019re still walking in darkness, switch on the light. Consider my offfer; I\u2019m waiting for your answer till tomor- row. I couldn\u2019t decide on any poem. He called me tomor- row and told me to send him my book of poetry by post so that he could choose the poems. Feeling grateful, I 99","just did that. For the first time after so long I felt inner strength and exhilaration. I felt... something. I was alive. That was something new for me. I was awakened. At the promotion of the book, I was beside myself with joy. My daughter noticed that excitement and said, \u2013 Mum, I\u2019m so happy you are smiling. \u2013 Oh, really \u2013 I\u2019m smiling. Our cooperation continued. He included me in his poetic family, and set responsible tasks for me, which I was trying to do as well as I can. And there I am, with a lot of trust, this book with the title In Defiance of Time am I entrusting to this gifted edi- tor and a man of deep soul. I am grateful from the bottom of my heart for this friendly hand lent out to me and for the given spark of life that is taking me further... In defiance of time! Over time, I started writing different poetry, I noticed the surroundings, and my imagination returned. 100"]