malo, ljupko selo smokvica - · pdf filebrdima kraške vrtače ispod prapovijesne utvrde...

Malo, ljupko selo Smokvica, u središtu otoka Korčule, ne možete pronaći na turističkim kartama spektakularnih turističkih destinacija o kojima sanjaju bogati turistički nomadzi. Baš zato je ono prava oaza mira za poklonike tišine i ljepote pitomog joj i raskošnog krajolika. Smokvica je ljepota zaklonjena od vjetrova. Ugnijezdila se vrhom sela u šumovitu obalu i opušteno silazi do Podvasja, širi svoje skute uokrug okićene plod-nim poljima, zelenim brežuljcima sve do obala mora na sjeveru i jugu otoka. Župna crkva Gospe Kandalore je duhovno središte mjesta. Arhitekt i konzervator za Kraljevinu Dalmaciju, Ćiril Iveković, potpisao je projekt za njezinu izgradnju 1902. Ovo impozantno zdanje jedno je od njego-vih najljepših trobrodnih sakralnih građevina. Neoromanika s naglaše-nim neorenesansnim obilježjima na pročelju i neogotičkim elementima u zidu broda, kontrafori i šiljasti vrhovi. Dostojanstvena vertikala zvonika, visokog 36 m, okosnica je i dominanta naselja u krajoliku. Uticao se naš narod Bogu molitvama i gradeći male crkvice svecima i sveticama, ne bi li zaštitio teškom mukom stečene plodine. Razasute su po poljima i vrhuncima, čuvaju i bdiju, svjedoče o čvrstoj vjeri težačkoj i duhovnom bogatstvu. Na istočnoj strani sela, u samom vrhu, mala crkvica čuva seoce raza-suto pred njim. To je sv. Mihovil, ratnik.Kultom pobjednika zla i skrbnika dobrih duša, štiti Smokvičane od 14. stoljeća. Smjestivši se na strateški izvanrednom položaju – vidikovcu, pogledom zahvaća selo, polja i da-leku pučinu. Kamene kuće poput ogrlice, grle dvorišta, nekad okupljališta, mjesta druženja nakon napornog dana. Bile su to ispovjedaonice, pregovaraoni-ce, predionice, tkaonice, pletionice. Prvi drhtavi korak djeteta, razigrani smijeh, zaljubljeni pogled … bujnina cvijeća. Tišinu danas ne bude re-vanje tovara, kukurijek kokota, ali za kolovoških žega čut ćete uspavlju-jući zbor žaba kreketuša iz Mrzeja i neumornu pjesmu cvrčaka – Orfeja žarkog ljeta. S Kampanela tuku ure, slavljenje crkvenih zvona omamljuje poput tran-sa. U očekivanju blagdana duša se uznese. Ovdje su proljeća ružičasta, mindelima okićena. Miris bora, kadulje, smilja zlatnog, vrijeska pozemjuha i ružmarina traži opojni dah mora u niski djevičanskih vala. Oko vas svježe uzorana zemlja diše. Vinogra-di, poput postrojenih vojnika pozdrav šalju a maslinici pjesmu težaku i težakinji pjevaju. Njihovo zlato je bijelo vino Pošip i nadaleko poznato po aromi maslinovo ulje. Nekada, kažu stari arhivski spisi, Smokvica je imala najukusnije smokve, koje su daleki putnici hvalili kao najbolje na Mediteranu. A kako ne požaliti za mindelima koji se krune imenom Smo-kviška princeza, koja je nažalost u izumiranju. Ljepotu ove arkadije, tamnim šumama zaštićene i plavim morem obrubljene, otkrili su naši davni, pradavni preci. Njihov stoljetni trud u oblikovanju i oplemenjivanju sebe i svog životnog prostora, danas s po-nosom uživamo. Dinko Radić, arheolog, kaže: „Postoje krjevi koji veliči-nom, značajem i ulogom u tijeku povijesnih zbivanja, daleko nadmašuju prostornu skučenost. Među takvima je i Smokvica!“ U Siknici u taložinama zemlje, pored lokava, pronađena je keramika 8000 godina stara, a mala sjekirica od glačanog kamena, nađena je u

brdima kraške vrtače ispod prapovijesne utvrde Kruglić. Potječe iz 4. milenija. Duh Helade dodiruje otok već u 6. st. pr. Krista i prihvaćanjem njihove civilizacije, Iliri se upisuju u jedinstvenu mediteransku zajednicu. Mala mirisnica, lekit, pronađen u Prapatni, svjedokom je, između ostalih pro-nalazaka, kulture Grka u našim krajevima. Rimsko carstvo unosi novi progres. Pismenost, moderne prometnice, trgovina viškom proizvodnje i stabilnost … do nove nestabilnosti propa-šću Carstva i novih osvajača. U 13. stoljeću naš otok ima čvrsto uređenu vlast po uzoru na dobro po-znate stare grčke polise. Korčulanski statut, STATUTA ET LEGES CIVI-TATIS ET INSULAE CURZULAE, najstariji je statut u Južnih Slavena. U njemu se, pored ostalog, spominje Smokvica 1329. godine u dokumen-tu kojim Milosta Belomšić određuje da se proda dio nekog vinograda i od toga nabavi jedan parament (crkveni ukras, misno odijelo i sl.) za crkvu sv. Ciprijana – ecclesia sancti Zubriani. U poglavlju o agrarnim reformama piše: „Radoš Bogdanić iz Smokvice dao je 31. prosinca 1395. Radaku Radoslaviću jednu zemlju da je iskrči i obradi u roku od šest godina. Ako kroz to vrijeme rodi vina, Radak treba Radošu davati svake godine četvrti dio, a ako rodi žito, ne treba mu davati ništa od toga. Poslije šest godina Radak će dobiti najprije za sebe polovicu gonjaja, a ostatak će se razdijeliti između njih na polovicu.“ Ovakvi ugovori su privatno-pravne naravi. Seljaci su slobodni ljudi i primali su zemlju na obrađivanje, kao i plemići i svećenici. Kako su plodna polja bila od vitalne važnosti za život otočana, najbo-lje govore drakonske kazne za namjerno učinjene štete. „Tko hotimično ubije vola, magarca, mazgu – siječe mu se ruka; za dva obe ruke a za tri krivca objesiti. Ukoliko se krivac ne nađe, cijelo selo je dužno oštećeno-me nadoknaditi štetu.“ Danas, sedam stoljeća poslije, Smokvica ima neslućene mogućnosti da postane jedan od sredozemnih perivoja, ekološki raj za posjetitelje koji tragaju za izgubljenim mirom u prenatrpanim urbanim konglomeratima. Poželjet ću Smokvici ono što je ostvario Grožnjan u Istri, da čežnja kuće kamene utjehu nađe u mladim likovnim umjetnicima i glazbenicima. Umjesto pustoši i propadanja – galerije i glazbene svečanosti. Umjetnost u arkadiji koju im daruje vrijedni težak. Poticajan je primjer na Paklinskim otocima, nadohvat Hvaru. Mala Palmižana, bez struje, vode, telefona i zvaničnih brodskih veza, ostvarila je svoju utopiju. Postala je, zahvaljujući moru i duhovnosti jedne obitelji, perivoj, hodočasnički mamac za ljude koji žude povratku ka prirodi, ka samima sebi. Ako posjedujete um vizionara, duhovnost i dušu pjesnika, doživjet ćete proljeće i ljeto u Smokvici u magičnim prolomima svjetla kroz guste krošnje masline i bora. Po modrini mora vodit će vas bijelo jedro i galeb, sunčev miljenik. Čut ćete molitvu suhozida za trudnog težaka. A uvečer, kad vas dotakne plaha mjesečina, poželjet ću vam pjesmu mladićku, kao nekada „Ispod murve“, nostalgičnu, lirsku, od čije ljepote i zrak zadrhti.

Mara Margaritoni

On maps of spectacular tourist destinations, which are a dream of rich wanderers, you shall not find a small, charming Smokvica village, which is in the middle of island of Korčula. But that exactly is why it is a true peaceful oasis for lovers of quietness and of gentle and magnifi-cent landscapes. Scenery of Smokvica is sheltered from the winds. Its peak nestles on the wooded coast, descends relaxedly towards Podvasje, extends into a wide circle, decorated by fertile fields and green hills, then reaches sea shores on the northern and southern sides of the island. Parish church of Our Lady Kandalora is a spiritual centre of the village. Ćiril Iveković, an architect and conservator, signed its building projects in 1902. This impressive building is among his the most beau-tiful sacral objects. There is neo-romanticism with accentuated elements of neo-renaissance on the front, and neo-gothic elements on the walls of three naves, there are pillars and pointed tops. The stately vertical of the bell-tower, 36 meters high, is the axis which dominates the village in the landscape. Trying to protec their hard-earned crops our people were resor-ting to God, saying the prayers and building small chapels dedicated to male and female saints. These small chapels, scattered about the fields and hills, are evidence of firm faith of field laborers and of of their spiri-tual riches. On eastern side of the village, on its very top, there is a small chapel which protects the village below. It is dedicated to St. Michael, the warrior. To worship the victor over evil and the guardian of good souls meant a shelter to the people of Smokvica since 14th century. Situated on an outstanding position – on the belvedere - the chapel provides enjoya-ble views over the village, the fields and far away open sea. Houses made of stone embrace like necklaces the farm-yards, which once were places of coming together, of associating after fatigu-ing days. They were the places for confidential talks, for negotiations, spinning, weaving, knitting, the places of the first trembling steps of a child, of vivacious laugh, of lovesick glances, of luxuriance of flowers. Today the silence is not disturbed by braying of donkeys, nor by crowing of cocks, but on the hot days of August you can still hear somnolent chant of tree-toads from Mrzej and tireless song of the crickets, those Orpheu-ses of hot summer. The church tower is striking the hours. The souls are elated looking forward free time. Here the springs are pink, adorned by almond trees. The scents of pine trees, sage, of golden immortelle, of heather and rosemary, go together with the intoxicating smell of the sea in row of small bays. The land recently ploughed up is breathing around you. Vineyards are set upright like saluting soldiers, the olive-groves sing to field laborers. For them the gold mines are white vine pošip and olive oil widely known for its arome. Once upon a time, as old archives say, Smokvica had the tasti-est figs, praised by widely traveled persons as the best in Mediterranean. Is it not deplorable that the almonds called „smokviška princeza“, the „Smokvica Princess“ are becoming extinct? The beauty of this Arcadia, sheltered by dark woods and edged by blue sea, was fully comprehended by our old and ancient ancestors. The centuries of their hard work in moulding and refining, themselves and their surroundings, we enjoy today proudly. Dinko Radić, the arche-ologist, says that certain localities by their importance and their role in history overcome largely their restricted space. Smokvica is among such localities! In layers of land in Siknica, by the puddles, the pottery was

found, 8000 years old. The little stone axe was found in limestone cavity, under ancient fortress Kruglić, it dates from the 4th millennium. The spirit of Hellas had touched this island as early as the 6th century B. C., through acceptance of its civilization, the Illyrians beca-me members of the unique Mediterranean community. The little oil jar, lekythos, found in Prapatna, with other discoveries bears witness to the Greek culture in our region. Roman Empire had brought new improvements, the literacy, modern roads, trade with oversupply, also a stability … which lasted until new unstabilities came with the fall of the Empire and new conquerors. In the 13th century our island had firmly organized authorities modeled after well known ancient Greek polis. The Statutes of Korčula, Statuta et leges civitatis et insulae Curzulae, is the oldest statute among all of Southern Slavs. One of the examples in which Smokvica is mentio-ned concerns year 1329: there is a document by which Milosta Belomšić decides to sell part of a vineyard and by the acquired sum to buy a para-ment, an ecclesiasical vestment for St. Cyprian’s Church – ecclesia sancti Zubriani. The chapter dealing with land reform says as follows:„Radoš Bogdanić from Smokvica, on 31st of December 1395, grants to Radak Radoslavić a piece of land in order to clear it and cultivate it du-ring the period of six years. If during that time the grapevine bears fruit, Radak is obliged to deliver to Radoš every year one fourth of it, if the wheat is fertile there is no obligation to deliver anything. After six years a half of land measure „gonjaj“ belongs to Radak, and the rest of the land is to be divided between the two, a half to each.“ The documents as such contract were matters of the private law, the farmers were free people and concluded the same contracts concerning the land, as the gentry and clergy, The vital importance of land and of cattle in life of the islanders is best ilustrated by Draconian penalties for damages intentionally cau-sed: „Who deliberytely kills an ox, a donkey or a mule, his one hand shall be cut off; who kills two of them both his hands shall be cut off, and who kills three of them is to be hanged. If the culprit is not found, the whole village is obliged to compensate the damage.“ Today, almost eight centuries later, Smokvica has unsurmised possibilities to become a pleasure ground of Mediterranean type, an eco-logical paradise for visitors who seek silence lost in overcrowded urban conglomerations. I wish to Smokvica what was achieved in Grožnjan in Istra, that yearning of stone houses is consoled by young visual artists and musicians. That instead of decaying and going to ruin they become art galleries and places of musical festivities. That the arts develop in Arcadia which is presented to them by diligent field laborers. A stimulating example is found on Paklinski otoci, group of islands within easy reach from Hvar. The small Palmižana has realized its Utopia without having electricity, water, telephones or regular ship lines. It has become, thanks to the sea and spiritual inclinations of one family, a genuine place of pilgrimage temptation for people who long to return to nature, to be own themselves. If you have a visionary mind, spirituality and poetical soul, you shall experience spring and summer in Smokvica in magical passing of light through dense tree tops of olives and pines. Over the deep blueness of the sea you will be guided by white sails and seagulls. You shall hear prayers of drystone walls for hardworking field laborers. And in the eve-ning, when you are touched by shy moonshine, it will wish for you the song of young people, from long ago, „Under the mullbery“, nostalgic and lyrical, the beauty of which makes the air to tremble.

translated by Marija Salečić

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEČežnja kuće kamene

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICE

Župna crkva Gospe Kandelore

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEProcesija na Blagdan Gospe Kandelore

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PKumpanjija, jedan od najstarijih živućih spomenika kulture Smokvice

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEVitezova ljubav jedna, ljepotom se okrunila, suncu zlatnom umilila

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEVinorodna Smokvica i čuveni Pošip

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEViteški Ples od Boja

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICETERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICE

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Priprema jela u težačkoj kući

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Težačka kuća, molitva pred večeru


Zdravica u kući bogatog trgovca vinom


TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEPleti mi, pleti sestrice, čedne pletenice...

TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICETERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEU sjenovitom Docu Istruge, skrivena Vilinska pećina

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TERRA CROATICA NA IZVORU SMOKVICEA kad su se umorile, plavom moru pohitile...


Eh, gdje su dani ti... tikvice drage prijateljice

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Crkveni zbor Don Jakov Salečić

Narodna glazba Smokvica

Dobrodošlica Smokvice

Miraz na uzdarje Uzimam pisaljku – možda nepropupani cvijet perunike, olovku iz pernice, neko starinsko naliv-pero ili pak vitki zvonik - i pišem.

Tisuće proljetnih cvjetova uz rub ceste, uz bedra oranica, po poprsjima mindela, bresaka i trešanja; tisuće mirisnih cvjetova na dijademi naranče i u zapučku svakog stabla limuna; tisuće sočnih grozdova; stotine i stotine zlatnih limuna i naranača prepunih sunca – darujem Vam. Mimoze u krinolinama nasred baršunastog saga zelene livade, bijele irise, kamene suhozide, čuvare - darujem Vam.Kukurijek prvih pijetlova što zove vas ujutro dok crveni kukurijeci po poljima miruju; bisere ljepote razbacane u latici cvijeta, u iglici žbunja, u bjelini kamena, u toč-kicama buba-mare, božje ovčice – darujem Vam.Bjelokosne crkvice i osamljene kamene križeve po poljima; rozetu – Danice poetsku ružu; bijeli zvonik-proštac neba; grbove i dvorove; parastat-bijeli karijatid, Smo-kvicu iz bajke - darujem Vam.I Vi mene darovaste! I neka bude tako – do navijek.Nadomirimo ljubav jedni drugima! Vitezovi svojim mačevima štite mene, štite Vas!Stoljetni glazbari slavuji s glazbalima su uz nas!Poj glasova dičnog zbora čujem! Ruke vaše trebam, djeve, divne moje, žene vrijedne!Čije li su bijele ruke plele, tkale, vezle, prele svu bjelinu skritu u škrinjama? Čija bijela njedra i bedra čija bijela su skrivali sotokotuli bijeli i bijele buštine?Čija nježnost prekonoć se omatala bijelim lancunima?Čije li se uspomene nježno vraćaju poput relikvija iz neke daljine?Čije kose su i lica čija su pričala na jastučnicama bijelim, snježnim? I čiji vrat bjelovrat se bez cjelova odmarao?Gledam sve istiha …gledam sve izbliza …pa bliže i bliže …da mi pod kožu ulazi sva ta bjelina sotokotula, spavaćica, košulja, jastučnica i posteljine čedne, i htjela-ne htjela i san mi postaje bijel, pa sve bjelji. Omamljena tonem u bjelilo sna.Sva ta nježnost grlice, sva ta mekoća, sva ta labuđa bjelina čipke mogla bi se razastrijeti po odajama bilo kojim… grofičinim, caričinim, po čijim god kneževinama, po dolovima bijelih vila… i nadaleko, i naširoko raspripovijedalo bi se… Bila bi to svečanost bjeline – zasvagda.Dvojim u sebi, ipak. Jesu li ovo radovi žena il’ anđela? I ruke vaše, muži moji, trebam!Gledam jednoga. I drugoga. I trećega gledam. Ponos - poput mošta – u meni vri.Iz prvog srca u drugo, iz drugoga u treće prelijeva se krv predaka.Istim su suputcima – tko prije, tko poslije – i preci i potomci hodili. Pod istim krovom o boljitku razmišljali. Za istim stolom i gladovali i blagovali.Pre(d)ci i potomci – ponos moj i Vaš! Naš!!!

Ti, koji sav ustrajan, zemlji, lozi i maslini-majci prilaziš - primi naklon moj i naklon neba za tvoje snažne ruke, za svaki žulj tvoj.U tvojim rukama utkane su ruke praotaca.U tvojim koracima odjekuju koraci predaka.U tvojim žilama teče krv pradjedova. Zemlja počiva u sebi. Počiva dok je ne razbudiš. Kad je zaoreš, zaori se pjev ptica i anđela – Božjih glasnika - nad širinom i mekoćom polja. Odjekne smijeh iz dubina. Pukne biblijski vidik na sva razastrta polja. Prizor titra i treperi pri podnevu. Polja raskriljuju svoja prsa umiješena od zemlje i znoja tvoga. Nezamisliva širina! Nedokučiva dubina tvoga truda! I čujem glas zemlje: ‘’Ja mogu čekati…!’’ A nikada ne čeka. Ti si s njom srastao poput trsa. Božansko korijenje zasvrdlalo je zemlju duboko, duboko. Kušnje poput. Kreposti poput. I stoga: Neka ti i nebo i zemlja podare sve što trebaš: kruha u obilju, zdravlja u izobilju, vina i svetog ulja – na pretek! --- S blagodati sve prigrlite – nama na dar! Tako ćete štovati me navijek.

Vaša Smokvica zavazda Duška Salečić


Dowry as a Reciprocated Gift

I take a pen - maybe an non-budded flower of iris, a pencil from a pencil box, some ancient fountain pen or an elegant bell-tower – and I write. A thousand of spring flowers along the edge of the road, along the hips of plough-fields, on the busts of the almond-trees, peaches and cherries, a thousand fragrant flowers on the diadem of an orange tree and in the button-hole of every lemon tree; a thousand succulent bunches; hundreds and hundreds of golden lemons and oran-ges full of sunshine – I give to You

Mimosas in crinolines amidst the velvet carpet of a green meadow, white irises, stone dry-walls – I give to You.The crowing of the first cocks inviting you to join the morning, whilst red hellebores in the fields stay calm; pearls of beauty scattered in the petal of a flower, in the tiny needle of a bush, in the whiteness of a stone, in the spots of a ladybird, God’s little sheep – I give to You. Ivory churches and isolated stone crosses in the fields; the rosette Morning star – the poetic rose; the white bell-tower the holy stick of the sky; coat-of-arms and co-urts; white caryatid, Smokvica from a fairy tale – I give to You. You too rewarded me! Let it thus be – for ever.Let’s reciprocate love to each other!Knights with their swords protect me, protect You!Centuries-old musicians, the nightingales, are with us with their instruments!I hear the song of the worthy choir! I need our hands, my girls, my wonderful and valuable women!Whose white hands knitted, wove and spun all this whiteness hidden in chests?Whose white bosoms and thighs hid white underskirts and white bodices?Whose tenderness was enwrapped during the night between white sheets?Whose memories come back gently like relics from some distance?Whose hairs and whose face were talking on the small pillows, white and snowy? And whose white neck rested without kisses? I watch everything silently …I look from near …and then nearer and nearer …how all this whiteness enters under my skin, this whiteness of underskirts, sleepers, shirts, pillow-cases and pure linen, and willy-nilly my dream becomes white and ever more whiter. Intoxicated I sing into the whiteness of a dream. All this tenderness of a dove, all this softness, all this swan-like whiteness of lace could be unfolded into any chamber …those of a countess, of an empress, in any princedom, into the valleys of white fairies …and they would talk about this all around the world. That would be a feast of whiteness – for ever.I have a dilemma. Are these the works of women or angels? I need your hands too, my men! I look at one of them. And then at another. I look at the third one. Pride – like must – boils within me.From the first heart into another, from the second into the third, flows the blood of ancestors.Both the ancestors and the descendants – some earlier some later – walked along the same paths.They were thinking about better times under the same roof. They both fasted and dined at the same table.Ancestors and descendants – Your pride and mine! Ours!!! You, who persistently approach the land, grape-vine and olive-mother – receive my bow and the bow of the sky for your strong hands, for every one of your calluses.The hands of forefathers have been woven in your hands.The steps of ancestors resound in your steps.The blood of great-grandfathers flows in your veins. The earth rests within itself.It rests until you awaken it. When you plough it, the song of birds and angels reverberates – those God’s messengers above the width and softness of the field. Laughing from depths echoes. The Biblical view extends to all these scattered fields.The scene vibrates and flickers at noon. Fields open their breasts kneaded of earth and your sweat.Unthinkable wideness!Unreachable depth of your effort!And I hear the voice of earth:’’I can wait…!’’But it never waits. You have fused with it like a grape-vine.Divine roots have bored the earth deeply, deeply.Like temptation, like virtue.And therefore: Let heaven and earth gift you with all you need: bread in abundance, health in abundance, wine and holy oil – in excess! - - -Embrace all blessings with gratitude – gifts for us! Thus you will honour me for ever. -- S blagodati sve prigrlite – nama na dar! Tako ćete štovati me navijek.

Your Smokvica for ever Translated by: Živan Filippi

malo, ljupko selo smokvica - · pdf filebrdima kraške vrtače ispod prapovijesne utvrde...

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