Derand

A wintry Evening many years back

I joyfully jumped on my father’s lap

Slowly he began to tell me a story

About what happened to a little boy

In an old town burned down twice

And a third time, to put right the price;

Derand was the old town’s name

Once prospers and free, today a legend.

…When night fall and fighter’s came by

Within the ruins they heard a child’s cry

A little baby boy within the rocks

Shelter had found under the mother’s corpse

Fighters pulled him out, he didn’t want let go

His mother’s face he looks, his mother’s hand he holds

They didn’t know his name, or his family crown

Derand they called the boy in memory of town

He had so many mothers, so many fathers there

To care for him while growing so he could learn to care

He didn’t know an orphan was made a blazing day

He didn’t know Deranda lay just south of Peje

Until his now-known father thought it as time

To tell this young-man-growing about that little child

How his loving mother bent her body over

So her son could live and rebuild Derand stronger…

His eyes in tears, this young man so brave

"Where" he asked his father, "is my mother’s grave"

They walked down the ruins and soon reached the gate

Under an old oak, Derand’s mother read

“It’s up to you” man said, “to restore the pride

And bring back the life once this town had”

Derand looked around holding earth in hand;

“Let from now” he said, “Call this place Decan.”

Then just days later a new home took shape

Just outside the ruins, just beside the gate

And a bride soon after found her home with him

“Let” they said together “Joy this town bring”

And with past more and more youth came

Three times burnt Derand yet Decan became

I so curious jumped off my father’s lap

And found Deranda in Kosovo’s map.