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While The Sky Above Novi Sad Burns
by Djordje Balasevic

Let's not lie, it was not a great bridge
Not one built to be admired
No... Instead one built so that we could watch from it
Or kiss beneath its curve
But... sometimes she walked across it
And caught the moonlight in the net of her hair
I'll remember it by that.

War crossed the fields like a drunkard that had been stumbling out all night
And Vented its rage on the early wheat
Why? don't ask this... because it's better that way
Wars pass, and people, somehow, remain

So, cast off your slippers
And slap your hip with a tambourine... Sprinkle your shoulders with April
And shame this darkness with your lucid shine
Dance... Barefoot...
Underneath the burning sky

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