nedjelja, 15. svibnja 2011.
petak, 22. travnja 2011.
petak, 15. travnja 2011.
petak, 8. travnja 2011.
Gypsy ( 8 april - Gypsy day)
- Gypsy. I was born in dilapidated hut of planks in a cold night.Nobody not born.For forward to my parents have been mouth be eat.Mother of birth pain is not felt the icy wind that blew through the cracks clogged white paper. They say I cried, only looked startled this dark, cold world where Found.mother wrapped in a cloth while my brothers and sisters calmly stared the bundle. The father shook his head and took them in order t collect something for dinner. Grew up playing in garbage broken dishes, stoves parts, car .... I was barefoot and almost always hangry.All around was dirty.I'm dirty walked through the endless hills trashes.Than'd saw the sky, lay down and watched it. What was I clean.Seen toys promote, the house with bright windows behind which they play screens, clean and happy children.Seen shops with windows full of all kinds cookie,. smiling good people rejoice that I'd meet.Floats ships around silence and I would steeling leaving behind poor Gypsy colony.Stand and stand. Was geet and I shot the gun the other boats which I have met ... ... .. dusk, make me aware, shouting inmates and at what bubotku would work in our booth, roughly sober. I had five year.Mother has managed preserve me from the street and keep the house. No enimore.In morning father shook and told me to stand up and go the brothers and sisters. - Time-said-. Other children earning considerably. Sent for his family in cold, foggy morning. I quickly learned how beg, from whom I can get money from anyone ne.I give is an insult and stone.Remember is an old lady who give me a warm sandwich and stroked his hands trembling elderly ,.member the eyes of its good , warm, and wet.Hold sandwich, while my tears slivale series face.Don!t know why I cry. After than anything not felt the desire toobtain for much money my father satisfise. Were lined days.Go morning and returned late night. In the mrning .standing the street watching the children go school: passed next to me, pure, clean, cheerful talking, not noticing .Want see how it looks go to scool.. Look around-my brothers and sisters not here..When front the large white building , looked through window.Alli sat in the benches and nice tall women something they explain.Sometime children lifts his hands and something. Say.. Know that I wanted to be with them.Ringing... all ran out and began play.Watch fascinated by their gaim..Strongly I wanted play.Come closer .They so.Run .My heart jumping. I think want play with me.But no! Rocks!!!.Someting throw ugly, horrible ugly seying.Run.U ears we sum embarrassment, humiliation and the heart pounding to the rhythm of racing steps.For me, rocks and shouting: ¨ Dirty Gypsy. "I ran... Noise faded. I have escaped im.Set on panting at the adjacent wal.Strangers are we throwing money..It is me! Here is my place! I raised my head saw clear skies with white clouds, which are slightly steeling.Look! Someone smiles! Look: a man walks up supporting staff, raising the hat when he saw me and welcomes me.Tamo still flies buildings full of children: all of us and smiling to me.Call me!! See that their faces not be feared. Enabled hand catch me.Stand up.Try to catch them in the hands but I always gain up.Just one more step and I'll fetch them! Her's another one! The boy walked edge high wall without seeing the danger which he comminate.Bedroth his hands to reach children who wanted to play with him.Each moment it seemed that they would fetch, and every moment of his move back ... .... In the morning they found dead near the wall is a little small boy.He diad.Decease is to not even lived.
petak, 11. ožujka 2011.
srijeda, 9. ožujka 2011.
ROM
Otac je odmahnuo glavom i poveo ih da prose ne bi li skupili nesto za veceru.
Rastao sam na smecu igrajuci se polupanim serpama,dijelovima sporeta,auta….Bio sam bos i skoro uvijek gladan.Sve oko mene bilo je prljavo.I sam prljav koracao sam preko nepreglednih brda smeca.Onda bih ugledao nebo,legao i posmatrao ga.ono je bilo cisto.Vidio sam igracke kako promicu,kuce sa bljestavim prozorima iza kojih su se igrala sita,cista i zadovoljna djeca.Vidio sam prodavnice sa izlozima punim svakojakih slatkisa.Na mene su se smijesili neki dobri ljudi radosno me pozdravljajuci.Zaplovio bih ladjama , oko mene bi zavladala tisina a ja bih kormilario ostavljajuci iza sebe siromasno romsko naselje.Plovio bih i plovio.Pozdravljao sam pucnjem iz topa druge ladje koje sam sretao……..
U sumrak bi me osvijestila vika ukucana i uz koju bubotku posao bih u nasu kolibu grubo otreznjen.
Imao sam pet godina.Majka je uspjela da me sacuva od ulice i zadrzi kod kuce.Vise ne.Jednoga jutra otac me prodrmao i rekao da ustanem i krenem za bracom i sestrama. – Vrijeme je- rekao je.-Ostala djeca uveliko zaradjuju.
Uputio sam se za porodicom u hladno,maglovito jutro.
Brzo sam naucio kako prositi,od koga mogu dobiti novac od koga ne.Bilo je uvreda i kamenja.Bilo je i lijepih rijeci.Sjecam se jedne starice koja mi je dala topli sendvic i pomilovala drhtavim starackim rukama po glavi.Sjecam se njenih ociju dobrih,toplih i vlaznih.Drzao sam sendvic dok su mi se suze slivale niz lice.Nisam znao zasto placem.
Poslije vise nista nisam osjecao osim zelje da isprosim sto vise novaca kako bi moj otac bio zadovoljan.Tako su se redali dani.Odlazio bih ujutro a vracao se kasno nocu.Cesto bih,jutrom.stojeci na ulici posmatrao djecu koja idu u skolu:prolazili bi pored mene cisti,umiveni,veselo razgovarajuci,ne primjecujuci me.Zelio
Sam da vidim kako to izgleda ici u skolu.Malo sam razmislio.Pogledao sam okolo-mojih brace i sestara nije bilo.Krenuo sam za djacima.Dosavsi pred veliku bijelu zgradu zavirio sam kroz prozor.Svi su sjedili u klupama a neka lijepa visoka zena nesto im je objasnjavala.Ponekad su djeca dizala ruke i nesto govorila.Sve mi je bilo nejasno.jedino znam da sam zelio da budem s njima.Odjednom su svi istrcali napolje i poceli se igrati.Posmatrao sam ih ocaran njihovom igrom.Jako,jako sam zelio i ja da se igram.Priblizio sam im se.primjetili su me.Trce prema meni.Srce mi je poskocilo.Sigurno hoce da se igraju sa mnom.Ali ne! Bacaju kamenje.Nesto ruzno,strasno ruzno mi govore.Bjezim.U usima mi sumi stid, ponizenje a srce lupa u ritmu koraka.Za mnom trka,kamenje i vika: ¨“Cigos“.Trcao sam i trcao.Uskoro je buka zamrla.Umakao sam im.Sjeo sam zadihan na obliznji zid.Prolaznici su mi bacali novac.Znaci to sam ja!Ovdje je moje mjesto!
Podigao sam glavu vidio vedro nebo sa bijelim oblacima koji su lagano plovili.Vidi!Neko mi se osmjehuje!Eno: neki covjek koraca podupiruci se stapom,ugledavsi me podize sesir i pozdravlja me.Tamo dalje plovi zgrada puna djece : svi mi domahuju i smijese se na mene.Zovu me da se igramo.Po njihovim licima vidim da se ne trebam plasiti .Pruzaju mi ruke da me dohvate.Ustajem.Trudim se da ih uhvatim za ruke ali stalno mi izmicu.Samo jos jedan korak pa cu ih dohvatiti!Evo jos jedan!
Djecak je koracao ivicom visokog zida ne videci opasnost koja mu prijeti.Pruzao je ruke da dohvati djecu koja su htjela da se igraju s njim.Svaki cas mu se cinilo da ce ih dohvatiti i svaki cas su mu uzmicala…….
Ujutro su pronasli pored zida mrtvog malog djecaka.Umro je mali Rom.Umro je a da nije ni zivio.
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