Balkans, oh Balkans … at night it’s in Warsaw, even darker in Germany.
And I hear the call of Balkan …, despite the rhythms of the day. Nothing in the world pulsates like this region. When I think of Bulgaria at night, I am … not deprived of sleep … no, I am alive.
As I am only in Serbia, when heart meets memory, and gratitude for hundreds of years of sacrifice against the Turks.
Ovoje Balkan.
Im Mahlstrom 