- published: 04 May 2013
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Guča (Serbian Cyrillic: Гуча, pronounced [ɡûtʃa]) is a small town in Serbia. It is situated in the Lučani municipality, Moravica District. The population of the town is 2,022 people. Guča is a three-hour bus journey from Belgrade. It is famous for its yearly trumpet festival, attended by several hundred thousand visitors each year.
The Guča trumpet festival, also known as the Dragačevo Assembly is an annual trumpet festival held in Guča. 900,000 visitors (estimation by the promoter) make their way to the town of 2,000 people every year, both from Serbia and abroad. Elimination heats earlier in the year mean only a few dozen bands get to compete. Guča’s official festival is split into three parts. Friday’s opening concert, Saturday night celebrations and Sunday’s competition. Friday’s concerts are held at the entrance to the official Guča Festival building. This event features previous winners, each orkestar getting to play three tunes while folk dancers, all kitted out in bright knitting patterns, dance kolos and oros in front of a hyped-up audience.
I see a knight - a wandering fool
A man of few words
Doesn’t play by the rules of deceit
I see a knight - courageous and cool
A master of swords
One who never surrenders, and knows no defeat
Now their ship’s setting sail
To the Castle of Sadness
Will their quest for the Grail
Lead to glory or madness
Will their search ever end
Are they lost in this secret land
Where nothing is real
One is judged by his deeds
Based on moral perfection
One is found too discrete
For not asking the questions
So their search never ends
They are lost in these secret lands
Where nothing is real
They can see it, almost touch it
But their eyes will be blinded by the light
Lacking courage, lacking virtue, lacking wisdom
Just found in the purest of knights
I see a knight - his journey begins
He comes from afar
And where others have failed he’ll succeed
I see a knight - free of all sins
His goodness of heart will earn him his place on the
Perilous Seat
In his barren domain
Waits a king for the right one
Plagued by terrible pains
That won’t stop ’till the knight comes
Whose compassion is real
Then his wounds will be healed at last
All misery’s passed
He can see it, he can touch it
And his eyes won’t be blinded by the light
Only courage, only virtue, only wisdom
Combined in the purest of knights
I see a knight
I see a knight