Oh Sweet Maiden Please Don’t Leave!
selves. be our hel lp our p as y he a m oved her, our girl, our in the l e e l ad w sw y, o past so eep a . p ur el as d ko h e r n so v eo
ow the true m may kn ean i y us n go def r forsake and may w fp re e neve n e da ver ain. we ay ho be lo w v ,m e s ou se ord om l h
we came. be our help a s hich i n the m w ful maiden who helped us pa fro er o n ots ond tha st so ro is w t t d he th ay ho t t get . o or
in the past so that we lp as e h ma ur e s d a o e l n o p ’ yn t , l n e e a d v i be e ev .w ma t er e e wi we ll n for s ev ge oh er .. . f o
Oh Sweet Maiden Please Don’t Leave! nathaniel grann
The roots of our identity run deep through its soil. The soil will tell all and all that is needed. Albanian, Serbian, Roma, Turkish, it doesn’t matter what truth they speak, the soil knows and tells. We will see that soil soon and then the truth will be known but I only hope that our hearts are strong enough, for the soil knows all. The soil knows all… UÇK Solider - 1999
index
Night In Gale Forgot May Your Plums Rot You Fucking Bastard Have You Seen The Boxes?
Night In Gale Forgot
People know this country! They know us here and that’s crazy. Why do they know us? Was the war that big of a deal? I had no idea.
We have taken her beauty and made it our own. We will hide it from the world as we have hide ourselves. She has lived on within all of us, yet we never knew that until we lost her. Our Lord, my maiden, my soul and, my country.
When you look at the walls, someone has written “Night In Gale Forgot.� It struck me because only we would call it the field of Nightingale, we forgot, not the Nightingale.
May Your Plums Rot You Fucking Bastard
This Kosovo reality is real, the Serbs need to get that in their head. It’s not going anywhere, even us Albanians need to get that in our head. This is a reality; maybe not a good one but it’s something.
They say NATO troops would yell, “May your plums rot you fucking bastards,” while dropping the bombs on their villages. That’s crazy though, only an Albanian would think to say that and I know that too. I fucking said it all the time.
Have You Seen The Boxes?
The dates are all that matter. You can see when it started and when it ended. This was planned and calculated terror. They came and spilt her blood; they came from the sky and ruined her. They ruined our maiden.
Our Lord, our savior, the one true voice came and told us, “Rise up and see. Rise up and live. Rise up.” The mountains parted through the destruction and as we ran back to our homes, the vengeance became clear…the vengeance came swiftly.
Have you seen the boxes? They lock us in them; I swear that they do that. Go and see, they’re putting Serbs in boxes and locking the door.
O h Sw eet Maid en Please Don’t Le a ve ! Nat han ie l G r a nn Gre ySalmon Press fir s t e d ition # 1 of 1 pa pe r ep son p remiu m p re s e nta tion nat haniel g r a nn. c om ast o l dby nat e@g ma il. c om emp t y stre tc h. c om Š Gre ySalmo n P ress , 2012
This book is not an historical document. It is a study of division between Albanians and Serbians, a collection and representation of opinions, accusations, conjectures and assumptions. The text is based from real conversations conducted with Albanians, Kosovars and Serbians that have been arranged in a way that highlights the subjectivity of memory and what is perceived as ‘history.’ A singular truth may be formed through these narratives but in reality there are many truths that have formed; it’s just dependent on what one means by truth.