Tag: intergenerational memory

  • Their song, our song

    Their Song, our Song is a poem which reflects on the lived memories of women born into wartime and the lasting echoes carried across generations. Beginning with the story of a child left behind during the chaos of war, the poem traces a life shaped by hunger, labour, and the silencing of girls’ voices in a world where choice and agency were limited.

    Through reflection and witnessing, the work asks us to imagine those little girls who have now become old women, and to recognise the injustices they endured. It invites the present generation to carry their stories forward, transforming silence into song.

    This piece forms part of my ongoing creative research exploring voice, intergenerational memory, and the healing potential of artistic expression within the project I am Maria!


    Their Song, our song

    1943 my mother was born 

    In a country war torn

    bombs were going off.

    Mother of 5 picked up 4 and ran out the door leaving her behind not knowing what she’d come back to find. . .

    war baby grew 

    and what she knew.

    Hunger,

    child labour,

    education was a favour a luxury,

    girls were currency,

    with

    no agency,

    no choice,

    no voice.

    Imagine that can you somehow?

    The little girls old ladies now,

    recognise that it was wrong.

    It’s up to us to carry them,

    to a new day,

    to a new song!

    The following audio file is a sonic setting to this poem which reflects on war memory, women’s voices, and the intergenerational stories that continue to live within us. These themes are closely connected to my Croatian heritage, where song and language carry cultural memory across generations.

    👉 Discover more in the Croatian Voice and Song Collection

  • Smiljana

    About Smiljana


    This song grew from a poem I wrote with the help of my mother and my aunt, about a tragic event that has lived in my family for decades.

    Smiljana was my second cousin. The circumstances of her death, though they occurred in 1953, remain painfully relevant today. This is a story of femicide. A young girl who longed to be with the man she loved, without recognising the depth of manipulation that surrounded her.

    The intergenerational thread is strong here. This story was carried to me through the voices of my family. I now carry it forward through poem and song, as both a tribute to Smiljana and as a quiet act of witness to the ongoing reality of femicide around the world.

    In the poem and the song, a mother waits for her daughter to come home. She sings while watching the clock, suspended in hope and dread. Smiljana replies. Is it her voice? Is it her mother’s memory speaking? Are they hearing each other across worlds?

    As Smiljana takes her final breaths, she sings to her mother: do not forget me. I will be waiting for you in the other world with my unborn child.

    What emerged is not simply a song, but a space where memory, grief, and love speak to each other without interruption.

    This is Smiljana.

    Sama u mraku

    majka sebe pita:

    Mater: Di je moje sunce,

    Smiljana mala,

    di si mi nestala?

    Zašto nisi doma?

    Smiljana: Majka moja nisam došla

    zato ja u ljubavi išla sam na mora!

    Mater: Dite moje, mila moja?

    Tišina mi srce lomi,

    šta se s tobom dogodila?

    Smiljana: Majka nisam znala ruka sta sam volila bila je ona

    šta me je slomila.

    On me gurnija ravno u smrt.

    Mater: Cilu noć čekam tebe,

    vratit odma čuvaj sebe.

    Dođi doma Mila moja!

    Smiljana: Evo me, majka,

    na moru te čekam,

    u drugom svitu, sa mojim bebom.

    Majka, majka, neću doći,

    ja sam išla u drugi kraj.

    Ne zaboravi svoje sunce,

    Smiljanu koja je otišla u raj.

    Marina Poša, Grozdana Šulenta

    In memory of Smiljana 🤍 1933-1953

    19 December 2025

    Narrator: Alone in the dark a mother asks herself:

    Mother: Where is my sunshine,
    little Smiljana,
    where have you disappeared to?
    Why aren’t you home?

    Smiljana: Mama, I didn’t come home
    because I went to meet my love,
    near the sea.

    Mother: My child, where are you?
    Silence is breaking my heart,
    what has happened to you?

    Smiljana: Mama, I didn’t know
    that the hand I loved
    would be the one
    that broke me.
    Pushed me
    straight to death.

    Mother: I’ve been waiting for you all night

    Come back now and be careful,

    Come home my sweet child.

    Smiljana: Here I am mama,

    I’m waiting for you in the other world

    with my little baby boy.

    Mama mama I won’t come home

    I’m going to another place.

    Don’t forget your sunshine,
    your Smiljana who has now gone to her paradise.

    This is how Smiljana sounds.

    A warm invitation to hear more experimental sound work here