Our flags are splashed with blood.
Supported by standard bearers.
Never left.
Our flags are centuries of freedom.
The names of the heroes are carved in stone.
Our flags are riddled with bullets
Our flags are wide-spread wings of an eagle
Nested and learned to fly in our crags
Our flags are stuck in the karst
Nastasimir Franovic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem