On the occasion of the 50th anniversary of death…
WINTER WIND
Hooo! Open up!
I want to come in!
Is there anyone alive in the house?
Please, let me warm up by the stove,
At least for a while,
And have some bread
And drink
Some hot tea!
The winter outside is fierce, fierce,
We need shoes and coats…
So he knocks on the door,
Groans,
Peeks through the keyhole,
Climbs onto the roof,
And whistles, whistles, all covered in snow…
He buries the shrubs, the road with snow…
You can tell he is terribly angry.
In the morning, there are no traces of him –
Everywhere is silent, white snow.
There are poets who touch us with their songs full of joy and light, like children, and later, when we meet them, they somehow magically take us back to our childhood, to that experience of carefree and joyful moments when one day holds a wealth of adventures and seems infinite like eternity. One of them is Grigor Vitez, a writer, translator, most famous as a writer of poetry and prose for children.
With his poems and stories, he conveyed a playful image of childhood, simply, warmly… and humor, učio je djecu da cijene prirodu i ljepotu svijeta oko sebe, te ih poticao na istraživanje i otvorenost. Njegova maštovitost i svježina prenose se kroz njegove pjesme, osvajajući i odrasle svojom jednostavnošću i dubokim porukama. Njegovi likovi, poput Antun-tuna i krave koja čita novine, postali su simboli dječje književnosti i ostaju urezani u sjećanju generacija. Njegova ostavština je neprocjenjiva, a njegove riječi i dalje donose radost, čudesnu snagu mašte i optimizam u svijet. Love towards their calling and the youngest, as those who will one day grow up to continue to dream and further expand the boundaries of their heart.
WHAT COLOR IS THE STREAM
A deer cautiously approaches the stream that flows through the forest
And after drinking water, it says:
— The stream is like the green forest.
The stream continues to flow further past the rocks
Breaking against the stones,
A hopping rabbit says:
— This stream is all made of silver.
The stream continues to flow through the field
Coming out under the clear sky,
A swallow from above says:
— The stream is like the blue sky.
And the stream continues to flow, flow
White clouds hanging over it,
A floating white butterfly says:
— This stream is of a white color.
With a multitude of stars, the evening comes,
Extinguishing the colors of the day,
A timid deer whispers:
— Look, the whole stream is starry.