Black, my soul
is the color of mourning
on this clear spring day
where the sky is dropping
bombs
with exotic names on a land
troubled and tortured by hatreds,
planted generations
ago.
And as always happens in spring,
the blackbirds who claim
Kosovo,
from time immemorial,
are bravely singing their
mating songs
competing with the sirens
and explosions that
blossom
out of the deadly air.
Blackbirds may be the
only winners
in this senseless game.
b the root of the word Kosovo comes from the greek word
Kossyphopedio: field of blackbirds.