The poet

France Prešeren. Nation's beloved poet. Helluva guy, not one happy camper. Life wasn't nice to him. A romantic, cursed by big love, for a doris who didn't return it, silly cow. A bloke with a heart that size? What the hell do they want? Clearly more than the world's got. In the style of the national sense of irony, there's a relief of his never-love peeking out of the buildings nearby so even now, he can never quite get to her. Anyway, don't think he was missing much. If it's half accurate scupture, she had horrible tits ;o)


A shame they couldn't revere the poor sod when he was alive if you ask me.