How do a nation's last soldiers spend their final night? How do they face imminent death? How do the ancestral Slovenians disappear? What is the transition from pagan/primal to Christian/civilized? How do death and love face/confront each other?
Prešeren's epic poem is the score of a time that stopped in a single moment. Battle is a turning point. Under the microscope of emotions in the dormant eternity of expectations it happens suddenly - tumultuously, fast, and violently. Dreams crumble into dust.
The last meeting of Črtomir, as an earthly being from the past, and his beloved Bogomila, the personified light, is the swan song of paganism. The word becomes a prison, which forces the unchangeable written fate of separation. Beauty hides also in denouncement.