Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

The Eyes of Keyholes

ISMET MUJEZINOVIĆ

The deeper our country sank, the faster your pictures about us faded away. In vain were your purest ideals and indisputable craftsmanship: the red color of human blood and the white color of the foam on overloaded horses’ mouths, so real that they never quite dried up. As if something had been missing in all those convulsions, all that history. Since we buried you and started with the destruction, your house in every city sank even faster, and your compositions became mere oil on canvas. Some of them were slaughtered with kitchen knives. Thus your pictures about us have been completed.

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