In The Poetic Art, Nicola Boalo writes that rhyme is a slave. And it is the duty of every true poet to subordinate her to her desires. If we ask ourselves who is the Bulgarian poet, to whom the rhyme is the most faithful slave - this is Hristo Smirnenski. For him, Svetoslav Minkov, an overly frugal artist, will share: “Smirnensky was born a poet and an unsurpassed improviser. She could write a poem on any subject at any moment. Creative grief was unknown to him. He was joking in rhymes, even angry in rhymes. "Here is a telling example:

Once at the station the young Hristo (and he as Botev and Geo Milev remained young forever) saw a wonderfully pretty blond girl. It soon turned out that she and her were living in the same neighborhood in Sofia. Smirnenski admitted to his sister that he fell in love at first sight, and the girl jokingly called her exotic name Lorelai. When it happened that the poet lay sick and his sister was in the room, Lorelai accidentally passed by. The nurse told him that, and Christo, angry, sent her to make him some tea and grabbed a pencil and a white sheet. When the nurse returned with tea, he handed her a letter containing a poem written in the meantime. His famous work that at one time the young fronts of Sofia proclaimed at the local and in front of their beloved ones.

"It's like thousands of fiery presses
they scorch me, they press me, they oppress me:
cold compresses on my forehead,
quinine ears scream.

And casual, moody, laughing,
Lorelai stopped under the window -
as a wise recipe desired,
gold rump cat drop tea.

And the fairy tale rose again
with the aroma of spring night,
the dream of a stranger unknown
beneath the wings of stellar splendor.

And through the thin white curtains
in a flash, a coral smile,
as if the sun's past stopped
and took away both oppression and sorrow.

It was a fleeting moment and a joke,
a seven-color sky arc,
but the cat died a dream irresponsible
in an unenlightened and quiet sadness.

And goodbye through thin curtains
my son whispered again,
"Cold heart compresses,
and a quinine tablet in your mouth! "(" Lorelai ")

In addition to being a talented poet, lord of rhymes, Smirnenski is endowed with an exceptional sense of humor. He is young, cheerful and cheerful. Anton Strashimirov calls it the "Sun child" of Bulgarian poetry. In his catchy, seemingly innocent poems, a powerful talent is evident.

Hristo Izmirliev (Smirnenski) was born in Kukush on 29 September 1898. After burning his hometown during the Inter-Soviet War (1913), his family moved to live in Sofia. From 15, Christo helps out at his father's pastry shop and goes to sell newspapers. At 18, he began collaborating with the humorous magazines Bulgaran, Drum, and later in Laughter and Tears. For the first time on 19 he signed himself as "Smirnensky" and on 20 he published his first book - "Multifaceted sighs in verse and prose", under the alias Vedbal. After the end of World War I (1918), she developed an active civic position and responded to the boiling political passions in the country.

Smirnenski, a young man as old as today's students, forced to live from early dawn until late at night - he dares to joke about Bulgaria's poetic grandeur in his free time. Let's look at his parodies. Here is his famous "Epic of the Unforgettable" (by Ivan Vazov):

"My village is close to my soul!
One cannot recognize life here!
In this corner away from the noisy world
I see cattle and dog flesh in the middle. "

This, of course, parodies Vaz's "Epic of the Forgotten."

"The monastery is narrow for my soul.
When did a man come here to repent,
must forget the sinful peace,
to run seductive and seek peace. "

Vaz's drama and pathetics in the descriptions are "down to earth" in the image of Guncho from "Epic of the Unforgettable", born before 22, now 17-year-old - Smirnensky's "hero". This Guncho, who, "has been in school for ten years, wanders over a cop / for fashion shoes, various costumes, a large sum of money for Daddy."

And Debelyanov's "The Lonely Man in the Night": "at night an unfaithful faithful son / I wander homeless and alone", in Smirnensky it looks like this:

I think that at Sunny Child, Smirnensky plays his favorite game and entertains with heart all those who take it seriously. The seriousness of symbolism makes him laugh the most. The symbolic poetics of Smirnensky is what is the poetics of the knightly novel in Cervantes - the expressive means that inspire life. "Tonight Vitosha is so mysterious and tender - / like a dusky island in lunar-silver waters, / and above the dim and combish, as if hopelessly hopeless - melt in a thin pair of pale autumn stars." ("Flower Girl") Smirnenski needs these lush, complex constituent epithets (in this case "moon-silver" - elsewhere "fire-like", "gold-star", etc.), from the symbolic musicianship of the verse. Just like the knight don Quixote needs the armor-bearer Sancho Pansa and the lady of the heart of Dulcinea. The means of the "old language" stand in stark contrast to the new one, whose native language is Smirnenski. Because, as Nikola Georgiev points out, Hristo Smirnenski - this is the "Great Transducer in the New Bulgarian Poetry", one of the few who are truly innovators.

Smirnensky's new, however, is in organic connection with the old, which he transforms in an original and artistic way. In Smirnenski's humorous works, laughter is the logical consequence of making a claim. Proud of proud pretentiousness. In order to laugh at something, you have to take it in some form and realize that for some other people, the same thing is of great importance. Political jokes are laughed at by people with a taste for politics, sports or erotic are also matched by an audience with an interest in these areas.

So Smirnensky was not impartial, but on the contrary, he was sympathetic to both pathetic words and thoughts (Vazov type) and to symbolism. So he decides to joke with them. But he jokes because he overcame them. He understands their unfitness for himself and offers the jokey insight to his readers. And why did he overcome them - because they seem outdated and exhausted from ideology. It is revealing how, at this tender age, Smirnensky "overcame" a type of poetics that engaged in enormous intellectual potential. He uses, as appropriate, their means of expression to parody them. Smirnenski is a highly intuitive personality, with a keen sense of fashion in literature and art.

Bulgaria can sadly mourn the loss of such an artist and such a fragile age - 25 years. As for his ideological readings, I think this young man was still in search of himself. Like Botev - internationalist and patriot. Therefore, there is no obstacle to the various readings of Smirnenski. In any case, as Davila says, being able to smile is incapable of supreme blasphemy. Supreme blasphemy is capable of creators like Geo who are taken very seriously, so they always look so much older than they really are. Mockingbirds like Smirnenski are youthful and young, always seeking souls. To such pure souls, dogmatism, I think, is alien to them. "Just as there are milk teeth, so do milk ideas. How old are dairy ideas? "(Davila)

By the end of his young life, Smirnenski was about to break free from his next hobby, turning to the topic of morality in The Tale of the Ladder. It becomes clear to him that without morality, "reign" (political existence) is meaningless, despicable and malicious. Therefore, I consider Smirnenski firmly in some political camps and consider him a "faithful to the grave" of a cause, I think it is wrong. Because Smirnensky is one of the least dogmatic poets. Even if he had lived by 60, he would hardly ever sit down to write manifestos and programs. He would just read the strangers and laugh at their pretensions.

Something peculiar that the analysis of the Smirnenski phenomenon - Hristo Smirnensky, as S. Igov notes - is the first Poet of the City, should not miss - he is the first to introduce urban themes in such a pronounced way. "He is a child of the city, we could even call him a street man, Bulgarian Gavroche." (S. Igov). And just like Victor Hugo's belts, Gavroche street bully - Hristo Smirnensky dreams of "eternal love, eternal righteousness over the world."

"Let every black building (of the world iniquity, of the strangled moan) collapse in surprise, and find the old chimeras of soulless law behind the open doors / dead."

And this dream is eternal!

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