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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426674" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bosnia Tune</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As you pour yourself a scotch<br>Crush a roach or check your watch<br>As your hands adjust your tie people die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the towns with funny names<br>Hit by bullets, caught in flames<br>By and large not knowing why people die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in small places you don't know of<br>Yet big for having no chance to scream<br>Or say good-bye people die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Chorus: La, la... Let me know</div><div style="margin:10px 0">People die as you elect<br>New apostles of neglect, self restraint<br>Whereby people die Too far off to practice love<br>For thy neighbour, brother Slav<br>Where your cherubs dread to fly people die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Chorus...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While the statues disagree<br>Cain's version, history for its fuel tends to buy<br>Those who die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As you watch the athletes score <br>Or check your latest statement<br>Or sing your child a lullaby people die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time, whose sharp, bloodthirsty quill<br>Parts the killed from those who kill<br>Will pronounce the latter tribe<br>As your type.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2nd Version:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As you pour yourself a scotch,<br>crush a roach, or scratch your crotch,<br>as your hand adjusts your tie,<br>people die.<br>In the towns with funny names,<br>hit by bullets, caught in flames,<br>by and large not knowing why,<br>people die.<br>In small places you don't know<br>of, yet big for having no<br>chance to scream or say good-bye,<br>people die.<br>People die as you elect<br>brand-new dudes who preach neglect,<br>self-restraint, etc. –whereby<br>people die.<br>Too far off to practice love<br>for thy neighbor/brother Slav,<br>where your cherubs dread to fly,<br>people die.<br>While the statues disagree,<br>Cain's version, history<br>for its fuel tends to buy<br>those who die.<br>As you watch the athletes score,<br>check your latest statement, or<br>sing your child a lullaby,<br>people die.<br>Time, whose sharp bloodthirsty quill<br>parts the killed from those who kill,<br>will pronounce the latter band<br>as your brand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Brodsky">Joseph Brodsky</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426674" data-title="Bosnia Tune de Joseph Brodsky" data-description="As you pour yourself a scotch
Crush a roach or check your watch
As your hands adjust your tie people die

In the towns with funny names
Hit by bullets, caught in flames
By and large not knowing why people die

And in small places you don't know of..."></div>
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