Without a Country
One thought awakes us early in the morning,
One thought follows us the whole day long,
One thought stabs at night our breast:
Is my father suffering?
One sorrow awakes us at dawn like an executioner,
One sorrow is persecuting us ceaselessly,
One sorrow is swelling our breast the whole night long:
Is my mother alive?
A longing awakes us at daybreak,
A longing is continually hidden in our heart,
A longing is burning at night in our breast;
What of my wife?
A fear awakes us early like a funeral mass,
A fear persecutes us and darkens our eyes,
A fear fills at night our breast with hatred:
Our sisters are threatened with shame.
A pain awakens us in the morning like a trumpet,
With pain is filled every glass we drink
With pain is secretly weeping our breast:
Where are our children?
…Only one way will give an answer:
Through a river of blood and over a bridge of dead!
Woe! you will reach your home where the mother, who died of sorrow,
Does not wait for her son any more.
M. Boich
Note: M. Boich is a young Serbian poet, now about twenty-six years old, who already has a recognized place in modern Serbian Literature. The poem “Without a Country” was written after the well-known Serbian tragedy of 1915, and was published last year (March 28) in the official Serbian journal “Srpske Novine,” which now appears at Corfu.