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

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Svetozar Steve Pejovich

While many Americans don’t give their freedom of choice a second thought, Svetozar “Steve” Pejovich has constructed an entire economic philosophy around the concept.

Born in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, during the reign of the Nazis and raised under the oppression of the post-war Socialist regime, he knew first-hand the privations of not being able to exercise the rights many U.S. citizens take for granted.

Publishing

Poemes de Jovan Dučić / Песме Јована Дучића

Translated into French by Petar Bubresko. Bilingual edition (French and Serbian)

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.

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