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Message of Martyr
Diva Graboveva
(the Maiden of Grabovac)
This is your maiden speaking:
A long long time ago.
I was said to be the most beautiful girl in
Rama.
Today my beauty lives in you, my dear sisters
and my fair brothers.
Your eyes still mirror the waters and meadows
of my youth, with you I breathe in the scent of
Vran, I hear your song, at first spiteful, than
mournful
Thank you for coming to Mountain Vran and
visiting your Maiden. If my story could only help
lend wings of love to you, help you embrace life,
your brothers and sisters, your life, your children
and this country of yours.
Now, this is my story:
My parents Luka and Luca prayed to God to
bless them with the gift of a child. And I grew up
as a gift.
First time when I was able to comprehend
what our Friar had preached about love of Jesus
Christ, may he be praised, on the ruins of burnt
down Church of our Virgin Mary in Rama, something overwhelmed my soul, following me wher-

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ever I went: shepherding, taking rye

from Zahumlje to the mill in Rama,
chanting with friends at the well. That
something, deeper than a feeling,
more magical than a voice, more
beautiful than music was telling
me:
Maiden, you are loved!
Maiden, you are free!
Living with this voice within
me was a true delight. Sometimes I would reproach it.
I would say: How
come I am free, when
everything I belong
to is humiliated .
The voice would
overpower me.
And I grew stronger with the voice. I
grew more and more
beautiful.

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I grew stronger to live love

and freedom too, as Jesus
Christ teaches us, may he
be praised.

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My friends thought it a bit strange, this inner

conversation of mine, which I confided to them.
But everything came down suddenly.
I met the evil in the form of Tahir-bey.
He killed me for I was blooming into a flower
he couldnt stand to watch alive.
I shall tell you now how it all came about:
Even in times of my grandmothers youth
every girl in Rama dreamt about marrying into
the Kopi family. They were nobility, with coat

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of arms of red and white chess fields and the sparrow hawk over it.
Then suddenly everything changed. Their
grandfather was greedy and somewhere in a foreign land he helped the Turkish army defeat
Christians. In return the Sultan bestowed him
with a peculiar reward: everything that he traverses on horseback in one day shall be his. One
whole day he galloped throughout the Duvanjsko
Field but on his way back to Rama near Kopi
village both he and his horse collapsed dead.
All Christian souls grieved and wondered why
this noble family should have surrendered their
soul, estranged themselves from
Jesus Christ may he be praised, for
fortune and power.

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Their brother Matija who traded in Dubrovnik

on behalf of his family, died of grief when he
heard that his brothers had desecrated the name
of Jesus Christ, may he be praised. There it is still,
his grave in the cloister of Brothers Minor in
Dubrovnik.
Thus my murderer grew up close to the trampled beauty, fearing questions and abhorring
memories.
And he could have, like our godfather Arslagana from Varvara who took care and sheltered
me like his own child, read the message of Jesus
Christ, may he be praised, in a different manner,
saying that every soul is loved, that love is
stronger than any souls death, that everything delivered by love shall become a part of heaven.
Yet my murderer substituted shame for arrogance, repentance for new evils, and pleasure in
dominating dead things.
And I was lively and beautiful.
I filled Rama with joy.
And he wanted something I was not.
And when he murdered me, he didnt touch
anything of what I am.
For centuries I have been lying on Mountain
Vran free with untouchable freedom and loved
with redeeming love.
There you have my story, dear brothers and
sisters!
My story smells like the soul of my people and
Heaven knows it too.

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As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever

shall be:
Evil has eyes in darkness but becomes blind in
the light.
And when you leave my grave, turn on a few
lights of life to let love in.
Love from your Maiden.
I love you with the soul of all our martyrs.
I love you with beauty of all our attesters of
love and freedom.
May Lords love strengthen you forever.
Praise and worship be to Him, world without
end.
(Said for the first time on Divas Day,
September 1, 2001)

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