To my father

We have already come a long way By different paths. You already in the final homeland. Me, wandering hesitantly By these rough roads. And I still look for you In a forgotten corner, Behind a half-open door, To ask you that advice You never denied me. But is not there where I find you. There, only memories live Treasured with care unchangeable. Life dwells in other places. You come to me suddenly. When I least expect you Knocking...

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How I learned about lies

When I was little I thought that everybody was sincere, above all the adults. I couldn’t imagine one of them telling me a lie. But very soon I learned the sad truth about lies. Because I had a malformation in my right  foot, I fell  very often while playing. Once, after hurting myself playing,  I  asked to my teacher crying: why the grown ups never fall? and she told me : because if they fall they die. I of course believed...

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Nostalgia
Oct04

Nostalgia

I’m working lately in a blog in memory of my father , a Croatian Journalist, writer, poet and University teacher. These days I’m reading his diaries, looking for his manuscripts and when I see his characteristic handwriting, my mind and my soul get full of remembrances of him. I can see him writing at his desk with his pen, or typing in his Olivetti . He always had the door of his little working room open for us, little...

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The way you wear your hat
Sep30

The way you wear your hat

The way he wore his hat, the way he spoke with a gentle irony when someone challenged him, the way he gazed with his blue eyes that had seen so much suffering in his young years, the way he moved, calmly, the way he smiled, made him one of the most elegant men I met in my life. And he was mine. My dad. I would like to say like the old song: The memory of all that No, no they can’t take that away from me No, they can’t take that away...

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The last song
Sep29

The last song

He had had a nice tenor voice and he was still madly in love. He had learned many love songs for his wife. Also when a cruel war forcibly separated them for a long time. And of course, when they managed to cross the borders and got together again. He had wandered thru Europe and learned many languages to sing his love. I was with him in the hospital one sunny morning. He knew he was dying. His blue eyes were closed most of the time....

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