Dire Straits

 

 

IN MEMORIAM

The Spider -  ©   photo by    Gordan Lederer   (1958 - 1991)

cameraman and reporter of the HTV, killed in Croatia during the Serbian aggression in 1991.

 

A LETTER FROM GORDAN LEDERER'S MOTHER

I hereby announce publicly
that my son

GORDAN LEDERER

was treacherrously murdered on 9th August 1991,
by a mercenary gang of Chetniks while holding a camera in his hand,
and that, thanks to the Chetnik collaborator, General Raseta,
he was denied any chance of survival.

Gordan Lederer's mother,

Vlasta Lederer, Ph.D.,
consultant, spec. anaesthesiology and reanimatology

Vjesnik, 14th August 1991.

 

 

Back       Next

PAGE 1 (Poezija - Poetry) | PAGE 2 (Poezija - Poetry) | PAGE 3 (Poezija - Poetry) | PAGE 3 (Poezija - Poetry) |

| Index: A - I (Poezija - Poetry) Index: J - Q (Poezija - Poetry) | Index: R - Z (Poezija - Poetry) |

 

| Index: A - I (Poezija - Poetry)Index: J - Q (Poezija - Poetry) | Index: R - Z (Poezija - Poetry) |

Poets & Poems  - pjesnici i pjesme   [ abecedni popis pjesnika (djelomican popis) ] |

zaustavite RAT - stop the WAR (poezija - poetry) |

 

Please Sign My GuestBookView My Old GuestBook | Hrvatska - CroatiaMIDI kutak - Carmen's MIDI corner | Sto je novo...? - What's New...?Logo | HomeExit |

 

 

 photo by Gordan Lederer (1958 - 1991): The Spider

                                     These mist-covered mountains
                               Are a home now for me
                             But my home is the lowlands
                             And always will be
                             Some day you'll return to
                           Your valleys and your farms
                           And you'll no longer burn
                           To be brothers in arms
 

                       Through these fields of destruction
                     Baptisms of fire
                 I've witnessed your suffering
               As the battles reged higher
             And though they did hurt me so bad
       In the fear and alarm
   You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different worlds
  So many different suns
   And we have just one world
     But we live in different ones

 

           Now the sun's gone to hell
             The moon's riding high
               Let me bid you farewell
                 Every man has to die
                   But it's written in the starlight
                     And every line on your palm
                       We're fools to make war
                         On our brothers in arms