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”For the rest, perhaps this is not the city where I will die, but in any case, it did not deserve an incomparably brighter me, this city where I may not have been the happiest, but where everything is mine and where I can always find at least one of you whom I love and can say you that I am alone to the point of despair. Here, if I call poplars, my fellow citizens, they will even know what it is that hurts me. Although, this is a city in which I may not have been the happiest, but in which the rain when it falls is not just rain.”

Izet Kiko Sarajlić