Sixth letter – Birds with broken wings are travelling trough the world of their imagination, little Kosovo peonies
Monday, 5 May 2008
It is nice to bee free as a bird and to travel wherever you want. On Kosovo this is not possible, because the life is like living in cage. I’m a bird in a cage which dreams every day about the free life and the free flying. But my wings are broken; enemies have ripped them off from my shoulders. This is why I sit so lonely in my cage (concentration camp) and I’m writing all this stuff. This way is somehow easier, when I complain and for a moment everything is fine …
This is the way that every child lives and feels in Kosovo. Every child is fantasizing about the freedom and believe me that every child is thinking like I am. We have same wishes, same dreams, same sorrow, same pain, everything is the same… We all want just one thing – FREEDOM. We want to be able to move freely and to travel without the worries from Albanian attacks. WE WANT TO BREATHE FREELY!!!!
We’re traveling in convoy, in UN bus with a double glass on windows. They say it’s safer this way. We’re traveling trough the whole Metohija, where there is not a single Serbian enclave left, everything is devastated, the whole Metohija. Our first enclave is Kosovska Mitrovica which is two hours away from Orahovac. We don’t have any escort, neither KFOR nor the police are escorting us, but there is something much more than escort, much stronger from all this, and this is the ALLMIGHTY LORD. He protects us during the travel. We’re often target of attacks, they’re throwing stones at the convoy, they threaten with a finger and they’re showing things with their hand, how they will chop our head off… When other children outside of Kosovo are traveling, they can see trough the window nice scenes, meadows and clearings, they meet monasteries along the way, and us… we meet Albanian tabernacles, their flags and the sculptures from the UCK killers!!!
We see burnt Serbian houses, destroyed churches, graveyards grown in weed and different Albanian acts. We often speak with our friends about the nice and happy childhood where everybody says what he or she would like the most, where to go, what to see, and this way we go down the road of imagination… And then in one moment we stop and there is a moment of silence. In this silence only a sigh from our chests can be heard… whishes…at that moment we realize where are we and who are we…
Many greetings from Jovana Radovanovic from Orahovac, and from all of my friends, who will also write to you soon
Превод: Хришћанска Заједница Св. Ђакон Авакум - Видиковац, Београд