Zovem se Ibar. Lepo ime. Za reku koja ima čast da teče dolinom kraljeva. Po narodnom verovanju, voda jednim delom odlazi u pakao. I tamo gasi silnu vatru. Ako ne bi tamo otišla, onda bi potopila svet. Velike vode sakupljaju se negde na kraju sveta, tamo gde se nebo naslanja na zemlju. Živa voda se nesmetano kreće u prirodi, izvire iz zemlje, a mrtva voda se ne kreće, ona nigde ne otiče. Ja sam eto živa voda…

Rodila su me šest izvora. Moj život počinje u severnoj Crnoj Gori, ispod planine Hajle. Preko šuma, livada, brežuljaka, moj put vodi prema kosmetskoj zemlji. U dnu svog korita krijem vekovne tajne.

Prolazeći kroz Brnjak zastanem da na dnu pomilujem kamen nekadašnjeg dvorca Jelene Anžujske gde je nekada bila prva ženska škola. Zastanem i na brani Gazivode gde su ljudi ukrotili moju snagu da bi im svetlost stigla u dom.

Čudesan je moj tok. Izlazeći iz cvetnih livada rastužim se što sam ponekad reka koja razdvaja. Zastanem ispod mitrovačkog mosta i osmotrim. Prvo levu pa desnu obalu. Radujem se kada osetim tišinu. A nije uvek tako. Hteo bih da budem reka radosti.

Ponekad bacim pogled put neba. Tada ugledam stari grad Zvečan i zapitam se da li je pogled Stefana Dečanskog bio uprt u moju vodu kada je izdahnuo na zvečanskoj tvrđavi.

A onda krećem put starog Galiča. Sočanica, Leposavić, Lešak, Jarinje…Zagledam se u obale i pitam se gde su nekadašnji kupači. Nema ih. Samo ribari. Zabacili svoje udice, mudro ćute i čekaju. Nema ni Benta, kamena sa koga su nekada skakali leštanski mladići. Zatrpala ga zemlja. Neki ljudi koji su brzom sečom šuma i trkom za brzom zaradom bacili zemlju na njega. Tužan kraj. Molim vas, ljubitelji Ibra, otrpajte ovo kultno mesto da sa njega ponovo delfinskim skokom, zaparaju moju vodu vešti dečaci golubijeg srca.

Čas sam spor, čas razdragan, čas nestrpljiv. Uvek se radujem susretu sa Raškom. Osetim dadž drevnih vremena. Oko mene zadužbine Nemanjića. Sa leve Gradac i Studenica, desno Stara i Nova Pavlica. Uživam u Dolini jorgovana i pitam se kolika je bila ljubav kralja Uroša koji je za svoju nevestu, Francusku princezu Jelenu Anžujsku čitavu dolinu zasadio jorgovanom. Sa desne strane nad mojom vodom velelepno se uzdiže stara Pavlica, zadužbina sestrića kneza Lazara, braće Musića koji su poginuli u Kosovskom boju. Na freskama su još uvek očuvane njihove tužne oči.

Moj put nastavlja kroz prelepi kanjon Ušća . Tu malo ubrzam, tek da bi narod u zemlji Srbiji barem jednom godišnje pokušao da savlada moju snagu. Juna meseca, svake godine, u Ušću počinje kajak. Velika ritualna gozba zaljubljenika u moju neukrotivu snagu. Tek da se ne zaborave rečne veštine. Bude smeha i radosti. Pobednika i pobeđenih. Odatle hrlim Magliču čije se zidine ogledaju u mojoj vodi. Tu se povremeno čuju krici sokola koji su u doba Nemanjića uzgajani u ovim selima i bili čuveni čak u Carigradu. Ispod zidina Magliča divim se snazi ljudi koji su gradili Jerinin grad.

Odatle žurim put Kraljeva. O meni je ispevana pesma:

Odvedi me Ibar vodo do Kraljeva grada. Peva o ljubavi. A o čemu bi pevali Srbi do o ljubavi, vinu i junaštvu. Uvek se radujem susretu sa Žičom, tu gde je bilo prvo sedište Srpske Arhijepiskopije, manastir posvećen Vaznesenju Gospodnjem. Nimalo slučajno. Nedaleko odatle i ja ću se vazneti. U zagrljaju Zapadne Morave počinje moj novi život.

Možda ću vam jednom ispričati o mom toku ka Dunavu i Crnom moru. Do tada uživajte. Čuvajte me. Očistite. Da budem čist i umiven. Podarili ste mi posebnu radost. Nisam više sam. Spust bez granica od Jarinja do Raške vratio mi je radost. Plovite, radujte se, plivajte, pevajte, ritualno se očistite. Spremite svoje čamce i osmeh. Tri, dva, jedan…nula će biti sutra u 9 i 45 minuta. Srećno, plivači, neplivači, kupači, narode radosni, samo nek je pesme i igara!

Poklonila tekst autor

Dr. Valentina Pitulić, Profesor.

Kontakt autora:

[email protected]

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The Life of a River – (Ibar)

My name is Ibar. A beautiful name. For a river that has the honor of flowing through the Valley of Kings. According to folklore, part of my waters flows into hell to extinguish the mighty fire. If it didn’t go there, it would flood the world. Great waters gather somewhere at the end of the world, where the sky meets the earth. Living water flows freely in nature, springing from the ground, while dead water doesn’t move, it goes nowhere. I am, indeed, living water…

I was born from six springs. My journey begins in northern Montenegro, beneath the mountain Hajla. Across forests, meadows, and hills, my path leads towards the land of Kosovo. In the depths of my bed, I hide age-old secrets.

Passing through Brnjak, I pause to caress the stone of the former Jelena Anžujska castle, where the first women’s school used to be. I also stop at the Gazivode dam, where people tamed my strength to bring light to their homes.

My course is wondrous. Emerging from flowery meadows, I am saddened by the fact that I sometimes become a river that divides. Under the bridge in Mitrovica, I pause and observe. First, the left bank, then the right. I rejoice when I feel silence. But it’s not always like that. I wish to be a river of joy.

Sometimes, I cast a glance towards the sky. Then I see the old city of Zvečan and wonder if Stefan Dečanski’s gaze was fixed upon my waters when he breathed his last breath on the Zvečan fortress.

And then, I set forth towards the old Galič. Sočanica, Leposavić, Lešak, Jarinje… I gaze at the banks and wonder where the former bathers are. They are gone. Only fishermen remain. Casting their lines, they silently wait. There is no more Bento, the stone from which the young men of Lešak used to dive. Buried by the earth. Some people, in their haste to cut down the forests and chase quick profits, covered it with soil. A sad end. I plead with you, lovers of Ibar, clear this sacred place so that once again, with dolphin-like leaps, skillful boys with hearts of doves can pierce my waters.

At times, I am slow, at times, exuberant, and at times, impatient. I always look forward to meeting Raška. I sense the spirit of ancient times. Around me, the legacies of the Nemanjić dynasty. On the left, Gradac and Studenica; on the right, Stara and Nova Pavlica. I revel in the Lilac Valley and wonder about the magnitude of the love of King Uroš, who planted the entire valley with lilacs for his bride, French Princess Jelena Anžujska. On the right, towering above my waters, stands the magnificent Pavlica, the endowment of Prince Lazar’s nephews, the Musić brothers who perished in the Battle of Kosovo. The sadness in their eyes is still preserved in frescoes.

My journey continues through the beautiful Ušće canyon. There, I pick up pace, just so that the people of Serbia can attempt to tame my strength at least once a year. In June, every year, the kayak race begins at Ušće. A grand ritual feast for the enthusiasts of my untamed power. Just so that the skills of river navigation won’t be forgotten. There is laughter and joy. Victors and vanquished. From there, I rush to Maglič, whose walls are reflected in my waters. Occasionally, the cries of falcons, which were bred in these villages during the Nemanjić era and were famous even in Constantinople, can be heard. Beneath Maglič’s walls, I admire the strength of the people who built Jerinin Grad.

From there, I hurry towards Kraljevo. A song has been sung about me:

“Take me, Ibar River, to the city of Kraljevo.” It sings of love. And what else would the Serbs sing about if not love, wine, and heroism. I always look forward to meeting Žiča, the place where the first seat of the Serbian Archbishopric was located, the monastery dedicated to the Ascension of the Lord. Not at all by chance. Not far from there, I will ascend. Embraced by the West Morava, my new life begins.

Perhaps one day, I will tell you about my journey towards the Danube and the Black Sea. Until then, enjoy. Take care of me. Cleanse me. So I can be pure and washed. You’ve given me special joy. I am no longer alone. The journey without borders from Jarinje to Raška has brought back my joy. Sail, rejoice, swim, sing, ritually cleanse yourselves. Prepare your boats and your smiles. Three, two, one… zero will be tomorrow at 9:45 AM. Good luck, swimmers, non-swimmers, bathers, joyful people. As long as there is song and games!

Text by Dr. Valentina Pitulić, Professor.

Author’s contact: [email protected]

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