Green City Life

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Kakanj, 49km north of Sarajevo

 

‘Big city life,
Me try forget by,
Pressure nah ease up no matter how hard me try.
Big city life,
Here my heart have no base,
And right now Babylon deep on me case.

People in a show,
All lined in a row.
We just push on by,
Its funny,
How hard we try.

Take a moment to relax.
Before you do anything rash.

Don’t you wanna know me?
Be a friend of mine.
I’ll share some wisdom with you.
Don’t you ever get lonely,
From time to time
Don’t let the system get you down”

 

(Mattafix, Big City Life)

 

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Ancient Mother of Hoax

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Visoko, 33km north of Sarajevo, view at so called Pyramid of The Sun, Visocica hill. It’s actually a Hogback – an isolated part of anticline wing.

”I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree. ”

(William Blake, A Poison Tree)
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Box of Matches

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Ilijas, 18km north of Sarajevo

 

”The harsh exigency of survival
Deprives them of subtle felicities of childhood
In dim-lit, lime washed rooms
Lo! The hopeless little souls…
The dream of education has long been erased
In their shades of mind
They are offered match-sticks instead of pencils
To pen their history of child labor
The teeth of poverty devour them slowly.
There is no will to change their ways
Their unwritten stories are ignored and forgotten
When leaders are busy in owing promises
And Gods are engaged in processions,
Their tiny soot-stained fingers are occupied
in Stacking matches.
To lit the dark unkind world.”

 

(Natana Vasuki)

 

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City Beneath the hay

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Breza, 35km north of Sarajevo

 

''He had driven half the night
From far down San Joaquin
Through Mariposa, up the
Dangerous Mountain roads,
And pulled in at eight a.m.
With his big truckload of hay
        behind the barn.
With winch and ropes and hooks
We stacked the bales up clean
To splintery redwood rafters
High in the dark, flecks of alfalfa
Whirling through shingle-cracks of light,
Itch of haydust in the 
        sweaty shirt and shoes.
At lunchtime under Black oak
Out in the hot corral,
---The old mare nosing lunchpails,
Grasshoppers crackling in the weeds---
“I’m sixty-eight” he said,
“I first bucked hay when I was seventeen.
I thought, that day I started,
I sure would hate to do this all my life.
And dammit, that’s just what
I’ve gone and done.”


(Gary Snyder, 1930, Hay for the Horses)

 

 

NOTE: If you want your name, love message or something else written on the tree in Central Bosnia for only $5 click HERE

 

United Colors of Central Bosnia

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Olovo, 58km northeast of Sarajevo

 

”Like the stamen inside a flower
The steeple stands in lovely blue
And the day unfolds around its needle;

The flock of swallows that circles the steeple
Flies there each day through the same blue air
That carries their cries from me to you;

We know how high the sun is now
As long as the roof of the steeple glows,
The roof that’s covered with sheets of tin;

Up there in the wind, where the wind is not
Turning the vane of the weathercock,
The weathercock silently crows in the wind. ”

 

(Friedrich Hölderlin)

 

 

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Natural Gem

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Vares, 65km north of Sarajevo

 

”What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?”
(William Blake, The Tyger)

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