Volume 20 No. 1 (2025): January

- I am Beauty’s Faithful Slave

  I am beauty’s faithful slave. When my mother gave me life From the clouds the fairy of song flew down to my cradle  And with a kiss that burned hot like a tropical sun Touched my lips and little child’s forehead.  My forehead burns forever with thoughts of eternal love And lips speak them in a song.   I  []

- Stalactite

  To attain that beauty – you must be patient, like a stalactite. To drip and wait. And fulfill no one’s expectations. Sparingly drip to completion the words that have poured over from a world that no longer exists into a body that is no longer the one consigned to you once. If they discover you, or if you open  []

- Musa Ćazim Ćatić

This year marks the 110th anniversary of the death of Musa Ćazim Ćatić, one of the founders of modern Bosnian-Hercegovinian poetry. He was born on 12 March 1878 in Odžak, five months before the Ottoman Empire’s occupation yielded to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and his short life ended in 1915, three years before the fall of the latter monarchy. Ćatić spent  []

- Here in this City

for Ida Here in this city where I was born thousands of kilometers away from Teheran just as much from Paris too I’ll always be able to have night in the daytime I’ll always be able to have December after January I’ll always have to think about the Papal heresy sleuth Casamaris and about Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror I will  []

- Our Warrior Returned from the War in Greece

  Our warrior returned from the war in Greece bringing back a Greek baking pan and wounds on his body.   The women told him the pan from Greece was no good because it was too shallow.   We told him his wounds from Greece were no good either because they were too shallow.   We said to him: We  []

- We have Fierce Girls in Šipovice.

  They reap barley, and sing, sing.  Their vests burst at the chest. Their shirts tear open. Buttons snap. They don’t care about the vests. They don’t care about the shirts. They sing, sing, our girls from Šipovice. Reaping barley. So it is by day… But at night, they step into the moonlight, fall onto the green, dewy grass, clawing  []

- That Man

  That man with the badge on his cap – so all would know who he is, sat calmly on a chair. And just as calmly,  he stabbed a knife into the table – so all would know who he is. And for now, nothing: his knife stays there, he sits calmly there – and for now, nothing: except that  []

- Ćamil Sijarić

Ćamil Sijarić (1913–1989), a Montenegrin-born writer who spent most of his life in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, is best known for his novels and short stories. Sijarić’s poetry, however, remains an overlooked gem of his literary legacy. Although his poetic output is modest (Lirika, 1988, and the posthumously published Koliba na nebu, 1990), his poems resonate with remarkable depth and  []

- Bills’s Travel Blog

Spirit of Bosnia would like to recommend to its readers the following travel blog where in a lively and engaging way John W. Bills records and recommends his visits to sixteen municipalities throughout the whole of Bosnia-Herzegovina.