You could  hear the centuries of turmoil

in the music

the centuries long identity crisis

(the Slavic occupation and

the Turkish infiltration)

and how we’ve tried to blend the two

and with music

it’s melodic

 

You could hear the people

to the right of history the ones

that never seem to ask for anything

only that they’re heard

and that’s where this all comes from

this music

these 4/4 counts

of turmoil

​

You could hear the pain it all comes with  

it translates in voices

 

Then you couldn’t hear anything.

 

And then you could hear again

       the dinners around the tables

       the laughs of grandmothers

       the remarks of her daughter

       the boiling of coffee

       the shuffling of cards

       the prayer song just past noon

       the chirping of pigeons

       the selling of bird seed

       the empty seats

 

There is just over 100,000 fewer voices

and four more years

of turmoil