Una Franović, Miljana Živković, Vasilisa Kadrić, Milica Bulatović, Maša Šofranac and Đorđije Radulović best understood and experienced the work of Petar II Petrović Njegoš among primary and secondary school students and won awards at the literary contest of the "Radosav Ljumović" National Library, on the occasion of the celebration of his day of birth.
Read their works:
Una Franović: Generations of acts of judgment
Njegoš's thought "Generations of acts of judgment" hurts, warns, reminds. She, as a conscientious teacher, watches over her people and does not let them make mistakes.
Such was Njegoš. I imagine that virtuous mountain ruler spending his steps on Dvorski trg, while his thoughts fly to Jezerski vrh. The time of courage, heroism and given words have the same force today, a century later. Njegoš was not only a poet and a philosopher, but someone who lived his word. The Montenegrin karst, from bright Boka to mountainous Lovcen, whispers stories that judge Njegoš's thoughts and deeds. Words are fleeting, they can fly away with the wind like leaves, but if they are followed by actions, they remain forever written in stone.
With those same stones, soaked in blood, future generations will walk and judge our trail. If we create justice, morality and truth, we will leave generations a foundation on which they can build a better society. Otherwise, the foundations will be weak, because wrongdoing, shame, lies and inhumanity lead to destruction.
Njegoš, as a symbol of Montenegrin culture and identity, became synonymous with the work. But not just any, but a masterpiece! He made us proud, and presented his small but strong country to the whole world.
Our present will echo through time. The burden of responsibility is huge, heavy and challenging. I hope that a moral guide is woven into our genetic record, and that we will not fail those for whom we are building a better tomorrow.
And while Njegoš holds the light on top of the Montenegrin mountain, he reminds us that we must not forget that the right path is paved with honesty, courage, kindness, compassion, sincerity... He teaches us that words without action are worthless, and that every step we take is the mark we leave on this world for generations to come. Our bishop did not arrive from the road "with his chest exposed", but his chest carried strength, love and thought stronger than thunder and brighter than the sun.
Miljana Živković: Generations of acts of judgment
I'm sitting in the room. A book in my hand, a great work. Will I be able to understand? To begin with, I read "Dedication to the Dust of the Father of Serbia". The thought stands out in my mind: "Generations do judgment". Thoughts begin to wander. Am I the judge or the condemned?
Do we have the right to judge people we don't know? Even if we can judge them, even if we condemn them, we will not change anything. Each time carries its own burden, and we are left to live under that burden, be it smaller or larger. The opportunities in our country in the past were difficult, life was cruel, and the people of Montenegro were in constant struggle with enemies and for bare survival. Trying to understand their lives and circumstances is not the same as justifying their attitudes and actions. The best we can do is learn from their mistakes.
But it seems we haven't learned much. Observing the world and the events in it, I cannot remain indifferent to wars, suffering, destruction, suffering... Instead of developing tolerance, empathy and understanding, we allow feelings of hatred, envy, and vanity to prevail. Every man has the ability to empathize with others, it's just a question of whether he wants to encourage it or not, and what is preventing him from doing so. Bad things happen because people often find excuses for not being compassionate and not lending a helping hand. Is this what we want to leave as a legacy? When we fill our soul with understanding and love and share it with others, then we will begin to change the world for the better. Then we can be sure that in the future our effort, sacrifice and will to do good, to be humane and help others will resonate. Perhaps it is best to judge ourselves, that way we will be sure that future generations have the right role models in us.
Because "Generations do judgment" says the greatest of us. And they should judge. And whether we will rejoice or be ashamed before the judgment of our generation depends on us.
Vasilisa Kadrić: Generations of acts of judgment
A tree is like a man. Our actions are branches that grow in different directions, but the root holds them together and makes us as a person.
If you want a happy and virtuous life, anchor it with good deeds, never with bad deeds. The road to correct actions is always under construction. We build ourselves through what has been done so that the judgment about it is built from a beautiful and commendable verdict. Those deserts are made of grains of sand. Everything we do actually makes us. We may encounter many challenges, but we must not give up. Let's see the path to success! Well, success is stumbling from failure to failure, without losing will, faith and strength. That's why we don't lose sight of correctness, no matter how often we go astray.
Journeys of a thousand miles begin with just one step. Even the smallest good deed leads to a bigger one, maybe even better. Just as a torrent moves multitudes in its wake, let your small act of mercy set off a waterfall of nobility. Flood the world with charity, humanity and honesty.
We are human, we should be careful what we do. Hey man, what you're doing speaks so loud I can't even hear what you're saying. Actions speak, words are just dust, they arise and disappear. Let's enrich our actions with cordiality, selflessness and philanthropy. Even in the depths of winter, summer can live in you, deep in your bosom. Close the chests on your bosom with padlocks woven from humanity and benevolence, so that warmth never goes anywhere. If the world goes crazy, becomes rude and deaf, you remain human. Let your deeds be a guiding star in the dark night. Be and remain human, maybe you can change the world?! Just one drop of honey is enough to sweeten the water. It is enough to believe that you can and you are already halfway there.
Since the beginning of the world, people have done so many things. Man is still born pure and innocent, this proves that the heavens have not given up on us. The works of yesterday must not be allowed to occupy too much of today. You have to have strength! I often hear them say that strength doesn't last forever. Well, it doesn't even last long, that's why it's recommended daily. However, we must not be guided by force. If you want, let the power of love be the only power allowed. And let it be the strongest. The lens of violence to fade, turn off! After all, you can't shake hands with a clenched fist.
It is true that even the most distant moment in the future has its tomorrow, its future. May our legacy to that time deserve timelessness, eternity with good deeds.
Milica Bulatović: The task is a funny human fate
The writer of indispensable works of our tradition and culture - "Mountain Wreath" and "Harvest of Microcosm", the great Petar II Petrović Njagoš, responded to a general, complex and eternal topic - human existence.
The verse reveals Njagoš's idea of human destiny, which is both tragic and comic. Instead of an ordinary human life, man strives for a full life through his imagination and thought, overcoming himself and always hoping for a solution to the eternal questions about the meaning of existence, the challenges it brings with it, the "gall" and "honey" that make it up, resolving his inner ( and every external) conflict by saying that "mixed, they are the easiest to drink". And then new questions for the son: why is the path we are condemned to be strewn with thorns; by which we deserved obstacles and suffering; how to find "new forces" for "new needs", is the spirit/thought a blessing - a glimmer of pure light that we carry within us, or a curse - a punishment for all the vacillations we are prone to since we as a species are aware of ourselves, a terrible warning that every a hastily made choice a path to suffering?
We cannot control our destiny. It is not a task that we carry and perform every day, but a series of temptations that stand before us every day, and which, in fact, we are weak and small, and often too lazy and thoughtless, seduced by the material and short-lived, we cannot resist. Human life is a dream - it is fleeting and short, often filled with illusions, sometimes like a nightmare, unpredictable and changeable, and we are powerless. We are left with a daily search for meaning (the basis of human existence), always somewhere between the "heavenly tent" and the "small pattern" of light and darkness, a mosaic of all our weaknesses and flaws, but also humanity and virtues. We carry a light within us, that which illuminates and radiates, sublime and heavenly, but also an inexhaustible source of unanswered questions! And there - both cosmogony and theology. Here we are! Determined by the "light" that approaches, and at the same time moves away from, our circles - God, the world, man.
The eye of man - the cosmos. Big, unfathomable, unknown. Macro, about the microcosm. Around man and in him. The source and source of all complex questions, metaphysical and ethical aspects (spiritual and mental, physical and material). Njagoš asks for all of us, as a thinker, a philosopher, but above all as a poet. Offering us answers to our new questions. "The task is a ridiculous human fate" - is not only a hint of the basic allegorical idea, but also a note (admonition) that fate governs us, and not us, that, perhaps, we made a mistake just when we could have chosen, and therefore ours to bear both the curse and the blessing. Without the arc in man, life would perhaps be easier, brighter... And certainly more similar to the duration of the rest of the living world. Maybe sometimes we want that.
And when we rise above ourselves, we recognize the harbor within us. We must not make the wrong decision when/if we are given the chance to choose again!
Maša Šofranac: The task is a funny human fate
"God saw that the light was good, so he separated the light from the darkness". What is the sound of darkness? Is it quiet or screaming? Does it exist and where is it? Darkness prevents our eyes from seeing. Is its light so bright that it dazzles our eyes, or is the sound so terrifying that we stumble at every tone and stand up with deep wounds and scars? Is she black with blood or white with blindness?
How holy did we fall into darkness? Our first glory was love. If we were already created in the image of the Perfect, how did we not know about darkness? Or it was that where there is light, there is no darkness, so we didn't know about it. But the darkness moved into the snake and erased the light from us and revealed our nakedness to brag about it forever. How can I hide my shame when ignorance wanders through my mind? What can I enrich a poor soul with, what happiness can I adorn it with?
How can I break away from the chains and escape eternity? Where should I turn my eyes, where should I send my voice? Above me is the sky of a terrible color, the clouds of the devil's battle are counting. How can my voice be heard next to the scream of the darkness that makes me cry? Numerous feet remained carved on the ground for centuries. What kind of souls are in those footsteps, and are we damned walking with them. How can I know where my eternity is traveling when there is no way back from the earth?
Darkness gave me solitude, imprecise wounds from which I learned a lot. Darkness gives birth to wisdom, and laughter to a mocking tongue and a foolish head. What was Eden like when the earth's gorges are like this, when the sea is ruby blue, and the spotted fields are blown to the sides by the wind like loose blonde hair? What is the glory of the Lord when the human mind is omnipresent? He who separates light and darkness, and finds their names day and night, who separates himself from his children, did we not like him and gave us his secrets by revealing them with pain? If my soul were as pure as the springs of the earth and my mind as clear as the stars in the sky, I would believe in the name of the Almighty and I would offer Him my sacrifice with glory.
Instead, I wander thirsty in the dark, lulling myself to sleep with the songs of the invisible and dishonorable, which frightfully impose inconstancy on my sleep. He brings my desire down to earth and turns it into passion, and brings me lower than humanity and does not cheer me up with anything. I seek consolation and happiness, when I climb as much as possible, happiness itself is the greatest enemy. Camels will pass through the needle's eye to find their way to eternity, only my cold, dusty soul from untouchability will remain in eternal oblivion. By the inheritance of men, my temple is crumbling, while it threatens me with an invisible death. My teeth chatter with fear, while my eyes look to the sky. My eyes seek comfort, until he shows me the eternal book. My eyes get used to the darkness, while the embers of light burn their wounds alive. The burn wound healed over time, and the light would shine on my temple.
The immortal spark shines in me! A hymn of praise was heard from my throat. My heart despised the Hellenic mind, and burned in eternal fire. My heart shines through the Ascended Temple, because Jesus addressed the people: "I am the light of the world." Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life".
Đorđije Radulović: The task is a funny human destiny
The next task is to enroll in college. Am I ready? Do I want that? Should I choose this faculty, or the one five hundred kilometers away, but much better? And why am I doing this, that was?
It doesn't matter, I have a task, an algorithm I live by. Almost all of us have it, only some are better at lying. Who gave it to me? Maybe my parents, or the books I read? Maybe it's a mold that society has set a long time ago, a little cardboard box just strong enough that a person who is reluctant to break it won't break it? And without that little house we see emptiness!
Maybe our task is funny precisely because it doesn't exist - we invented it ourselves! And that's not necessarily bad. Perhaps the purpose of our existence is to find our own meaning. In a sense, we are all alchemists, trying to make something special out of the ordinary.
Maybe the point is in love, in being loved and loving? Maybe we should spend our lives trying to bring ourselves to imagined perfection? Or to be good people and show virtue? Or maybe in the fact that we constantly make plans that will never be fulfilled, because that's life? Ah, who knows, if only the cardboard box is comfortable enough?
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