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Jovan Dučić (Serbian Cyrillic: Јован Дучић) (1871-1943)
was a famous Bosnian Serb poet, writer and diplomat. The exact date of Dučić's date of birth is still undetermined; it is variously said to have been on February 17 (or February 5 according to the Julian calendar) of 1871, 1872, or 1874, with the latter date most often given. He died on April 7, 1943.
He was born in Trebinje in Bosnia-Herzegovina, where he attended primary school. He moved on to a high school in Mostar and trained to become a teacher in Sombor. He worked as a teacher in several towns before returning to Mostar, where he founded (with Aleksa Šantić) a literary magazine Zora ("Dawn").
Dučić's openly expressed Serbian patriotism caused difficulties with the authorities - at that time Bosnia-Herzegovina was de facto incorporated into the Austro-Hungarian Empire - and he moved abroad to pursue higher studies, mostly in Geneva and Paris. He was awarded a law degree by the University of Geneva and, following his return from abroad, entered the Serbian diplomatic service in 1907. Although he had previously expressed opposition to the idea of creating Yugoslavia, he became the new country's first ambassador to Romania (in 1937). He had a distinguished diplomatic career in this capacity, serving in Istanbul, Sofia, Rome, Athens, Cairo, Madrid and Lisbon. Dučić spoke several foreign languages and he is remembered as a distinguished diplomat. His Acta Diplomatica (Diplomatic Letters) was published posthumously in the United States (in 1952) and in former Yugoslavia (in 1991).
It was, however, as a poet that Dučić gained his greatest distinctions. He published his first book of poetry in Mostar in 1901 and his second in Belgrade, 1912. He wrote prose as well: several essays and studies about writers, Blago cara Radovana (Tsar Radovan's treasure) and poetry letters from Switzerland, Greece, Spain and other countries.
Like Šantić, Dučić's work was initially heavily influenced by that of Vojislav Ilić, the leading Serbian poet of the late 19th century. His travels abroad helped him to develop his own individual style, in which the Symbolist movement was perhaps the greatest single influence. In his poetry he explored quite new territory that was previously unknown in Serbian poetry. He restricted himself to only two verse styles, the symmetrical dodecasyllable (the Alexandrine) and hendecasyllable - both French in origin - in order to focus on the symbolic meaning of his work. He expressed a double fear, of vulgarity of thought, and vulgarity of expression. He saw the poet as an "office worker and educated craftsman in the hard work of rhyme and rhythm".
Dučić went into exile in the United States in 1941 following the German invasion and occupation of Yugoslavia, where he joined his relative Mihajlo (Michael) in Gary, Indiana. From then until his death two years later, he led the Serbian National Defense Council of America, an Illinois-based organization (founded by Mihailo Pupin in 1914) which represented the Serbian diaspora in the US. During these two years, he wrote many poems, historical books and newspaper articles espousing Serbian nationalist causes and protesting the mass murder of Serbs by the pro-Nazi Ustaše regime of Croatia. During this time he attracted some criticism from other Yugoslav exiles for his espousal of Greater Serbian ideas, a position which also attracted the attention of the US Government's Office of Strategic Services (the forerunner of the CIA).
He died on April 7, 1943 and was buried in the Serbian Orthodox monastery of Saint Sava in Libertyville, Illinois. He expressed a wish in his will to be buried in his home town of Trebinje, a goal which was finally realized when he was reburied there on October 22, 2000 in the newly built Gračanica church.Oči
Beskonačne tvoje oči, mlada ženo,
Dve duge večeri u pustinji mora;
Dve sumorne bajke što uznemireno
Imaju šum slutnje u granama bora,
Dve mirne galije s crnim zastavama;
Dve žene u crnom, na molitvi neme;
Dve ponoćne reke kroz kraje od kama;
Dva glasnika bola koji kroz noć streme.
Oči moje žene, mračni triumf ploti,
Koje večnom tugom opijene behu,
Svoj su prostor našle u njenoj čistoti,
A svoj car nebeski u njenom grehu.
Od suza prosutih u velika bdenja,
Te beskrajne oči sijaju se s toga,
Dalekim i čudnim sjajem ushićenja,
Kao neke oči što videše Boga.
Čuvaju na svojoj beskonačnoj mreži
Sve tamne ekstaze snova koje sanja,
Oči nepregledne, na čijem dnu leži
Velika i mračna slabost očajanja.
Eyes
Your eternal eyes,young woman,
two long nights in the desert of sea;
two dark scared fairy tales that have
a hint of doubt in the branches of pines.
Two silent ships with black flags
two women in black,quiet on their prayers.
two midnight rivers through sharp landscape
two messengers of pain that hunt by night.
Eyes of my woman,dark triumph of body
that were drunk with eternal sadness
found their space in her purity
and their heavenly kingdom in her sin.
From tears shed in huge vigil
those endless eyes shine just for that
with distant and strange shine of anxiety
like some eyes that have seen God himself.
On their endless net,they keep
all dark ectasies of dreams they have,
Unclearly seen eyes,on wich bottom lies
dark and big weakness of despair.Pesma ženi
Ti si moj trenutak i moj sen
i sjajna moja reč u šumu
moj korak i bludnja
i samo si lepota koliko si tajna
i samo istina koliko si žudnja.
Ostaj nedostižna, nema i daleka
jer je san o sreći više nego sreća.
Budi bespovratna, kao mladost.
Neka tvoja sen i eho budu sve što seća.
Srce ima povest u suzi što leva,
u velikom bolu ljubav svoju metu.
Istina je samo što duša prosneva.
Poljubac je susret najlepši na svetu.
Od mog priviđenja ti si cela tkana,
tvoj plašt sunčani od mog sna ispreden.
Ti beše misao moja očarana,
simbol svih taština, porazan i leden.
A ti ne postojiš, nit' si postojala.
Rođena u mojoj tišini i čami,
na Suncu mog srca ti si samo sjala
jer sve što ljubimo - stvorili smo sami.
A SONG TO A WOMAN
You are my moment and my shadow
and my glorious word in a silent sound.
my step and my wantonness
you are beautiful just as much as you are a secret
and truth as much as you are lust.
Stay unreachable,silent and distant
because the dream of happiness is more than happiness.
The history of heart is in the tear that falls
and soaks its love in vicious pain.
The only truth is in the dreams of your soul.
A kiss is the most wonderful encounter.
You are made of my visions
and your sunny gown of my dreams embroidered.
You were my enchanted thought,
a symbol of all vanities,prone to defeat and cold.
But you do not exist,and you never did.
Born in my silence and loneliness,
you shone on the sun of my heart,
because everything we kiss-we made it ourselves.Najtužnija pesma
Znam za neizmerne i bolne samoće,
Kad sat mre nečujno, kao cvet što vene,
I kad srce prazno prestaje da hoće
Ni vence pobede ni ljubavi žene.
Znam za neprohodne samoće bez daha,
Kad konci sa svačim padnu pokidani,
I u kojim srce zastane od straha;
Kad svemu oko nas izgledamo strani.
Kad nas oči stvari ravnodušno motre,
I duša pred sobom prestravljena stane;
I sopstvena povest kad se cela potre;
I kad je od leda suza koja kane.
Ni seme u brazdi, ni stopa na putu,
I kako je teška sena koju vučem!
Kanda tuđe srce bije u mom kutu?
Sve svetle palate života pod ključem!...
Vaj, koliko puta umiremo? Ko bi
Znao za sve tmine pod suncem! I zna li
Iko sva bespuća u sutonu dobi?...
I kako smo često oči zatvarali...
the saddest song
I've known countless and painful solitudes
when the clock dies without a sound like a flower does
and when the heart stops to desire
crowns of victories and women love.
I've known breathless and unpermeable solitudes
where strings of life are torn apart
and where heart stops in fear.
When everything we know doesn't know us.
When eyes of the things look at us carelessly
and the soul stops in front of itself in fear
and the whole our history wanishes in seconds
and the tear is cold as ice.
Not a crop in the field nor a foot on the road
and the shadow i carry is much too heavy.
Is it my heart that beats in my corner?
all the locked bright palaces of life.
Alas,how many times we die?Who would know all the
shadows under the Sun.Does anyone knows all the dead ends in the night.
and how often we closed our eyes..."
Ljubavna pesma
Ti si moj trenutak i moj san
i sjajna moja rec u sumu
i samo si lepota koliko si tajna
i samo istina koliko si zudnja.
Ostaj nedostizna, nema i daleka
jer je san o sreci vise nego sreca.
Budi bespovratna, kao mladost.
Neka tvoja sen i eho budu sve sto seca.
Srce ima povest u suzi sto leva,
u velikom bolu ljubav svoju metu.
Istina je samo sto dusa prosneva.
Poljubac je susret najlepsi na svetu.
Od mog prividjenja ti si cela tkana,
tvoj plast suncani od mog sna ispreden.
Ti bese misao moja ocarana,
simbol svih tastina, porazan i leden.
A ti ne postojis, nit' si postojala.
Rodjena u mojoj tisini i cami,
na Suncu mog srca ti si samo sjala
jer sve sto ljubimo - stvorili smo sami.
Love poem
You are my moment and my dream,
My glorious word within the sounds,
You are as beautiful as you are the secret,
You are the truth as much as the lust.
Stay unreachable, silent and far,
As for dream of happiness is more than happiness itself.
Be one time flame, as youth.
Let your shadow and echo be all to be remembered by.
Heart is writing its history on a falling tear,
On an immense pain that love marks its target.
The truth is only dreaming of the soul.
Kiss is the most beautiful meeting in the world.
You are the image of my apparition,
Your sunny décor knitted through my dream.
You were the fascination of my thought,
Symbol of all conceits, defeated and icy-cold.
But you don’t exist, neither you ever did.
Born within my silence and despair,
From the Sun of my heart you were shining
Because everything we worship – we have created ourselves."
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