1882 - 1928
STRIC
JOKO GIGOVICH
1882 - 1928
Gigovich, Joko
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A great man is one who collects knowledge the way a bee collects honey and uses it to help people overcome the difficulties they endure - hunger, ignorance and disease!
- Nikola Tesla
Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists.
- Franklin Roosevelt
While their territory has been devastated and their homes despoiled, the spirit of the Serbian people has not been broken.
- Woodrow Wilson
People Directory
Father Mateja Matejić
Mateja Matejić (born 1924) (Serbian Cyrillic: Матеја Матејић) - Priest of Serbian Orthodox Church, emigrant since 1945, and the Professor Emeritus of Slavic languages and Literatures at Ohio State University. Matejic graduated from the Slavic Department in the USA where he received his Ph.D.
Mateja Matejić is a founder of the Chilandar scientific project at the Ohio State University in Columbus, where he has been teaching Slavic languages since 1968. He is a founder and director of the publishing house Kosovo, as well as the editor of the Path of Orthodoxy magazine.
Publishing
Poemes de Jovan Dučić / Песме Јована Дучића
The first bilingual edition translations of poems in French of this prince of Serbian poetry. These translations of poems Dučić meet two objectives: to publicize the work of the poet to Francophone readers and pay tribute to both the Serbian language Dučić and French language to which the great poet and Petar Bubreško were passionately attached. This book is dedicated to Leposava Bubreško (1923-2013) professor Bubreško’s wife who wanted so much this work to be published.
Publishers: Sebastian Press, Vidoslov, and Metokhia
216 pages, soft bound, published in 2015, price $15
Песме Јована Дучића
На француски језик превео проф. др Петар Д. Бубрешко
Ова књига је посвећена Лепосави Бубрешко (1923-2013), супрузи професора Петра Д. Бубрешка, која је толико желела да ово дело изађе на светлост
Саиздавачи: Видослов, Требиње и Metokhia, Paris
ПОЕЗИЈА
Мирна као мрамор, хладна као сена,
Ти си бледо тихо девојче што снева.
Пусти песма других нека буде жена,
Што по нечистим улицама пева.
Ја не мећем на те ђинђуве са траком,
Него жуте руже у те косе дуге:
Буди одвећ лепа да се свиђаш сваком,
Одвећ горда да би живела за друге.
Буди одвећ тужна са сопствених јада,
Да би ишла икад да тешиш ко страда,
А чедна, да водиш гомиле што нагле.
И стој равнодушна, док око твог тела,
Место китњастог и раскошног одела,
Лебди само прамен тајанствене магле.