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| BRANKO COPIC |
Branko Copic is our most famous writer. Although there are other writers, I chose this one because I think that he deserves to be on MY HERO.
Branko Copic was born in 1915 in Hasani, under Grmec. He loved writing. He was very smart. Because of his very big knowledge the teachers told him that he couldn’t go to school any more. (They couldn’t understand how a student could be smarter than a teacher.) He didn’t have wife, but he loved his parents, and especially his grandpa Rade. A friend of his grandpa, Petrak, was very kind to Branko, so Branko loved him, too.
Most of his life he spent in Belgrade, where he graduated from school in 1940. People loved him because he was interested in everything. He wrote articles for newspapers. He wrote a lot of books, such as “Adventures of Nikoletina Bursac”, “Hero on Donkey”, and so on. He was a great writer, because only great writer can write books with humour and books with sadness.
For unknown reasons, Branko Copic jumped off a bridge in 1984. Since people loved him very much, they named the bridge “Branko’s bridge”. I believe that our famous writer, Branko Copic, deserves respect and deserves to be on this MY HERO web page.
Page created on 7/22/2013 10:45:52 AM
Last edited 7/22/2013 10:45:52 AM
THE STAR BLACKSMITH
There's a hut beyond the village,
it looks like a wizard's pride:
All sooty, dark, with but one eye.
What's happening inside?!Rattle, clink and
roar can be heard,
even a mine might thunder!
Is there a sorcerer from stories
stopping a giant's blunder?Don't you worry,
just come close by,
come in, it's not a trick.
You'll see,
the blacksmith is inside,
my neighbor, dear old Nick.It's dark outside,
a storm is close,
clouds dream the lightning scars,
and the smith's
heavy hammer roars
while forging golden stars.Now I know the great star maker—
no more secrets for me:
Every night,
that dear old blacksmith
lets shiny sparks spill free.Sometimes the sky
is sad and black,
like desert's blankness—it sweeps.
I know why: It is just because
the tired blacksmith sleeps.And there are times
when the Moon glows
through clouds in sleep bethrotten.
That is the blacksmith Nick's fire
that smolders—forgotten.poem by
Branko Copic
Translation by
Dragana Konstantinovic
