 Sarajevo |
| © 1993 Linda Allen Written Aug. 6, Hiroshima Day, at Holden Village, Sarajevo Sarajevo It was only for bread that I died Not as a soldier defending our land Not as a doctor with blood on my hands But just as a woman whose children were hungry at home It was only for bread that I died It was only for god that I died Not for the god of the Croats or Serbs Not Christian - not Moslem - not Life's sacred word But the god of destruction and chaos and vengeance and greed It was only for god that I died It was only for love that I died Love for my children whose eyes are too old Love for my husband whose supper grows cold Whose rough hands must now tend these children and soon hold a gun It was only for love that I died It is only through music I live A gentle adagio floats in the wind The cellists hands tremble as mortars begin And the music holds memories of lovers and friends I have known oh, my home! It is only through music I live It was only for bread that I died Excerpt from a sermon given by Scott Haasarud at Holden Village: This last year I read the story of Vedran Smailovic who is a cellist in the Sarajevo Symphony. One day a year ago last May at about 4 0'clock in the afternoon, 22 people were killed by Serbian mortar fire while standing in line outside a bakery. For the next 22 days Smailovic brought his chair and cello to that deserted street at 4PM and with Serbian shells crashing around him, played Albinoni's "Adagio" to honor each person who had died. |