Nikola Vaptsarov

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Nikola Vaptsarov Biography

Nikola Yonkov Vaptsarov was a Bulgarian poet, communist and revolutionary. He was born in Bansko to a Bulgarian militant father and a Protestant mother. Trained as a machine engineer at the Naval Machinery School in Varna, later Naval Academy, he worked machinist jobs most of his life and wrote in his spare time. His only released book of poetry is Motoring Verses (1940). Because of his underground communist activity against the government of Boris III and the German troops in Bulgaria, he was arrested and executed by a firing squad.

In 1949, the Bulgarian Naval Academy was renamed Nikola Vaptsarov Naval Academy. In 1952, he received posthumously the International Peace Award. His Selected Poems were published in London in 1954, by Lawrence & Wishart, translated into English with a foreword by British poet Peter Tempest. His poetry has been translated in 98 languages throughout the world. Vaptsarov Peak in eastern Livingston Island, Antarctica is named after the famous Bulgarian poet.

His only released book of poetry is Motoring Verses (1940).

The Best Poem Of Nikola Vaptsarov


Here am I-breathing,
And Writing my poetry
(My best to it giving).
Life and I glower
Across at each other,
and with it I struggle
with all my power

Life and I quarell,
But don't draw the moral
That I despise it.
No, just the opposite!
Though I should perish,
Life with its brutal
Claws of steel
Still I would cherish,
Still I would cherish!

Suppose round my neck they tie fast
The rope
And they ask:
'Would you like one more hour to live?'
I would instantly cry:
Come, quickly untie
The rope, you devils!'

For Life there is nothing
would not dare.
I would fly
A prototype plane in the sky,
I'd climbe in a roaring
Rocket, exploring
In space

Still would I feel
A joyous thrill
At the blue sky.
Still would I feel
A joyous thrill
To be alive,
To go on living.

But look, suppose
You took-how much?-
A single grain
From this my faith,
Then would I rage,
I would rage from pain
Like a panther
Pierced to the heart.

For what of me
Would there remain?
After the teft
I'd be distraught.
To put it plainly
And more directly-
aftre the teft
I would be naught.

Maybe you wish
You could erase
My faith
In happy days,
My faith
That tomorrow
Life will be finer,
Life will be wiser?

Pray, how will you smash it?
With bullets?
No! That is useless!
Stop! It is not worth it!

My faith has strong armour
In my sturdy breast,
And bullets able to shatter
My faith
Do not exist,
Do not exist!

Nikola Vaptsarov Comments

vince panoff 23 September 2020

moze da e comunist no e POET! ! !

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