Croatian Viewpoint
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'A Vision of Freedom' and Other Poems

A Vision of Freedom, 1983
The Undefeated Croatian Spirit, 1985
Prayer for a Just Peace, 1986
A Land Where People Talk in Whispers, 1987
Unite All Croatians, 1987

A Vision of Freedom

There died a young man so brave
That Croatia need not be a slave
And from his place in heaven
In company with Tomislav and Stjepan
Told of his vision where time is still
And asks how much blood must spill
As Alexander in his days was great
And Napoleon met with his fate
And the Tzars from revolution flee
So as surely Croatia will be free
Because Yugoslavia will lose its hold
As horrific tales of Bleiburg unfold.
Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1983

The Undefeated Croatian Spirit

I am the Croatian spirit
I have arrived with my power
From across many foreign lands
To be with you
To be present in your lives
I will live through you
When you sing together
And as you listen
My melody must resound in you
And in harmony with others
I will live through you
When you read
My ancient prose
To feel the presence of its author
The room is filled with emotion
When you hear my words aloud
I will live through you
From generation to generation
When you dance to my music
When you know my culture
And how it feels to make it your own
You capture my strength
I am the Croatian spirit
I am with you
When you hold my flag high
In every city far and wide
It’s not enough to 'have' my flag
But not walk behind it proudly
For I am not just any spirit
I am the Croatian spirit
Born over 4000 years ago
And although my homeland
Has been plundered and occupied
And my people
Have been slaughtered and enslaved
I have survived
Through my Croatian language and song
I am alive in you now
And in your children
If you open your hearts to me
You will achieve great heights
For when you join together I am with you
And I will not be broken!
Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1985

Prayer for a Just Peace

Recited at "48 Hours Peace Vigil - - Festival for Peace
at St. Paul's Cathedral, Melbourne December 1986
Dear World, International Year of Peace,
I offer you a forgotten people, the Croats.
They committed a sin,
By defending their nation,
By defending their history,
By defending their brothers,
They fought, alone.
Alone, they died. They lost the war,
And in hope, they surrendered.
But they were betrayed. Betrayed,
By the allies, by the axis,
By their own people,
By the whole world.
They were murdered, and they fell,
One by one, half a million times,
Never buried.
The world turned its back.
A new generation grew up, after the war.
They wept,
Until no more tears would come.
They spoke out,
But no one listened.
They were murdered, alone.
No one talks about those skeletons,
Who haunt the cupboards of the world today.
No one talks about those skeletons
Except for a few,
A few, who are stalked, by secret police,
A few, who suffer, alone.
International Year of Peace,
Yes, for the 'free' world.
Yes, for other oppressed peoples.
Yes, they have 'all' been remembered,
In their power, or,
In their oppressed state.
In their hunger, and in their dreams.
And all the while, Croats – ignored,
Are extradited, lured, exiled,
Murdered, tortured, slandered,
Sold into slavery, stripped of their pride.
Alone, they look to each other.
And alone, they do not forget.
They alone suffer, they hurt,
While the whole world watches,
And laughs, and condemns her.
For Croatia lost her innocence,
She is human, her soil breathes,
Her people weep, their open wounds bleed,
The salt stings them.
Yet, somehow they survive, bread, grass,
Potatoes, on cornmeal, they live.
In darkness, they die, buried,
Without their loved ones.
Yet they survive, their faith is undaunted.
They know, one day
One day – God will remember.
One day, God will cast out
Those who have tortured her soul
Those who have sold her people
To the highest bidder, forgotten,
With no name.
White dove, fly, do not forget,
Croats leave this Year of Peace
With a prayer, with their souls exposed.
Not pitied, but 'persecuted'.
Persecuted for the crimes of others,
Persecuted for living on their Croatian soil.
Such a beautiful place,
So beautiful for tourists who eat their food
And leave, they leave Croats hungry,
And pay their oppressors.
So beautiful, they bare their bodies
To her sun, and to Croatian children.
And her children hold their heads up
And with innocent hope
Ask the International Year of Peace
To remember them,
To remember their nation.
They ask the world
Which rejoices in its righteousness
To consider how the poor
Sacrificial Lamb felt, to remember how
The living earth and small insects
And plants felt
With the onslaught of progress
And world peace.
Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1986

A Land Where People Talk in Whispers

A country of constant changes yet it always looks the same
A place of rugged ranges and of abounding game
A land with sunken lakes joined by a chain of waterfalls
A nation of heartaches from where Mother Mary calls
Her people's eyes always squinting against the icy wind
So cruel and unrelenting as it blows undisciplined
Her villages of stone unchanged for centuries gone
With Zagreb as her throne where history greets the dawn
Her many wide walled towns where summer brings a crowd
With winter cities of no sounds but children's voices aloud
A nation washed by raging rivers and the Adriatic's tide
Whose people talk in whispers unheard by the world outside
Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1987

Unite All Croatians

I dreamed one day Croatia was free
Folk came for all the world to see
They said, "Oh God it was meant to be"
And thus t’was written in history
That fateful day my dreams came true
Enslaved shores once again Adriatic blue
And that’s how Croatia’s population grew
Saying "Kako ste", not "How are you"
Family and friends said what they wished
Of how much love and life they missed
Who didn’t leave home due to lost interest
But because they lost their will to resist
But when I awoke I knew my dream was not real
So I screamed, "Unite Croatians—say how you feel!"
Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1982
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