Pocitelj is a small, predominantly Muslim village in the Herzegovina region of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

It is one of many beautiful and diverse communities in the region - the most famous of which is Mostar, but the list also includes beauties like Livno, Trebinje, Buna, Blagaj, and others.

Pocitelj is more famous for its thriving art colony and it's beautiful central mosque.

This video is set to one of the most famous poems from the Herzegovina region of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

It was written by Mostar's Aleksa Santic and is performed by Ibrica Jusic.

It is in the sevdah style of music common to Bosnia and Herzegovina - mournful lyrics with strong instrumentals. It's similar to Portuguese fado in tone and style.

These are the lyrics of the poem:

"Sinoć, kad se vratih iz topla hamama,
Prođoh pokraj bašte staroga imama;
Kad tamo, u bašti, u hladu jasmina,
S ibrikom u ruci stajaše Emina.

Last night, returning from the warm hamam,
I passed by the garden of the old imam,
And lo, in the garden, in the shade of a jasmine,
There with a pitcher in her hand stood Emina.

Ja kakva je, pusta! Tako mi imana,
Stid je ne bi bilo da je kod sultana!
Pa još kad se šeće i plećima kreće...
- Ni hodžin mi zapis više pomoć neće!...

What beauty! By my Muslim faith I could swear,
She wouldn't be ashamed if she were at the sultan's!
And the way she walks and her shoulders move . . .
--Not even a hodja's amulet could help me!

Ja joj nazvah selam. Al' moga mi dina,
Ne šće ni da čuje lijepa Emina,
No u srebren ibrik zahitila vode
Pa po bašti đule zalivati ode;

I offered her salaam, but by my faith,
Beautiful Emina wouldn't even hear it.
Instead, scooping water in her silver pitcher,
Around the garden she went to water the roses.

S grana vjetar duhnu pa niz pleći puste
Rasplete joj one pletenice guste,
Zamirisa kosa ko zumbuli plavi,
A meni se krenu bururet u glavi

A wind blew from the branches down her lovely shoulders
Unraveling those thick braids of hers.
Her hair gave off a scent of blue hyacinths,
Making me giddy and confused

Malo ne posrnuh, mojega mi dina,
No meni ne dođe lijepa Emina.
Samo me je jednom pogledala mrko,
Niti haje, alčak, što za njome crko'...

I nearly stumbled, I swear by my faith,
But beautiful Emina didn't come to me.
She only gave me a frowning look,
Not caring, the naughty one, that I'm crazy for her"

GREETINGS FROM POCITELJ

WARNING:Will make you cry!

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