Right now i am staying in the the house of Rasa Livada (1948-2007), Serbian poet from Zemun, Belgrade on Danube who wrote a book of poems “Karantin” in 1977
He used to prophesize, A Livada kaze…and Livada says…
Everyone keeps on asking that question. You’d be surprised:
For such a long time the most beautiful and biggest building
In town has been the Quarantine Office.
If you scratched its mortar you’d be able—
even at this very moment—to dig out a rib
or the shin-bone of a construction worker.
You can tell there was a dungeon
stretched between the earth and the underworld,
between the earth and sky.
And there were those
who travelled along Rodopi’s cable
to find their fathers who’d escaped the region
and gone to Hellada
as well as those who had come from Jerusalem and Smyrna
only to migrate then to Poland and Germany
View original post 144 more words