Behind a few dark naughty streaks,
                                a sparkle shines from her black eye.
                                She looks at me and her smile leaks—
                                in just a second she comes by.

                                She wants hugs, kisses, wants to dance,
                                and she wants everything “her way”.
                                Then she discovers something else…
                                One moment here, next—she’s away!

                                All of a sudden, clouds of war
                                covered her with a mighty blur…
                                Each day I’m scared, terrified more:
                                God, what might have happened to her?

                                The long, exhausting time’s gone by,
                                only a few black clouds still thrive…
                                Her voice becomes tense, like a cry
                                as she speaks: “Yes, we are alive…”

                                I listen but all I can see
                                is an image of her I knew.
                                Rudely, it is taken from me—
                                what appears now is something new…

                                Where’s that little kitten of mine?
                                Where’s now that sparkle in her eye?
                                Her childhood has been killed… A line
                                that makes me only cry and cry…

                                Now, I want to ask what I must
                                all people there and worldwide:
                                What will ever become of us
                                as we didn’t let her be a child…

                                Dragana Konstantinovic
                                Translated by the author
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