Vojislav Ilić

“ His eyes with the hollow sockets stare round with an empty chillness.
He bears a scythe in his hands. It is Death with his icy message.
Clutching the bulky book, the host is in peaceful slumber,
When Death draws near to him softly, and peacefully near him lingers. ”

“ O waves, O Serbian river! So centuries forfeit their traces,
Even as billows are plunged far down in eternity's channels.
Yet do thy pearly droplets caress the rock-ridden places
Where are upreared the remains of thy nation's glorious annals.
Yet, as the heavenly Phoenix, shall gladsome liberty glimmer;
Blithely shall I abide where mournful is now my abiding.
Yea, and upon the girth of ifs wings, our eagle, a-shimmer,
Over thy boulders be gliding.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”