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 |
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| I will live through you |
| When you sing together |
| And as you listen |
| My melody must resound in you |
| And in harmony with others |
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| 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 |
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| 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 |
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| 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 |
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| 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 |
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| 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! |
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| Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1985 |
| << BACK |
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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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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, |
| Slaughtered, |
| Sold into slavery, stripped of their pride. |
| Alone, they look to each other. |
| And alone, they do not forget. |
| They alone suffer, they hurt, |
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| 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. |
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| 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. |
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| Jean Lunt Marinovic, 1986 |
| << BACK |
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