#ogulin

Not unlike matcha tea, The green rolling hills, As if they were pulled By the strong tide of the moon, Peak into forests and alcoves And dip, submerged, So their trophs lay below The lake’s surface.

It’s not every year That among the tall grasses My knife is lost, Landing on the dirt, Missing the tree by inches, The unfortunate victim Of my devilish, Childish happiness.

It’s not every year That I’m disposed To my childish innocence, In which my grandmother, Not with a steady whip, Nor with a gentle whisper, Nor with a loving kiss Cracked a blistering fissure. That ever faithful wall, Now broken, Maybe, Only slightly.

Hrvatska: Zateturao izlazeći iz kafića, pao pod prikolicu kamiona i poginuo

Nakon što se u četvrtak u Ogulinu u Hrvatskoj zateturao izlazeći iz kafića, 47-godišnjak se spotaknuo te s uzdignutog trotoara pao pod zadnji dio prikolice kamiona i poginuo. Karlovačka Policijska uprava u petak je izvijestila da se nesreća dogodila oko 15 sati u Ulici Josipa Jurja Strossmayera kada je 47-godišnjak iz nepoznatih razloga zateturao i pao pod zadnji dio pridodanog vozila…