about existence, as if having lived
my life in a hothouse of flowers -
very well, I change my view and see
continuous bombardment, Serbs and Bosnians,
and under that constant barrage, eat,
socialize and stroll the streets,
a citizen of his town who falls,
silently hit, while others behind
or in front continue on their stroll,
chatter among themselves and carry
an umbrella under the sun.