Peyo Yavorov

Peyo Yavorov Poems

Peyo Yavorov Biography

Peyo Yavorov ( Peyo Totev Kracholov, January 1, 1878–October 17, 1914) was a Bulgarian Symbolist poet. He was considered to be one of the finest poetic talents in the fin de siècle Kingdom of Bulgaria. Yavorov was a prominent member of the Misal group. His life and work are closely connected with the liberation movement Internal Macedonian-Adrianople Revolutionary Organization in Macedonia. Most of his poems are romantic in subject, and dedicated to the two women in his life — Mina Todorova and Lora Karavelova. His first (and arguably greatest) love Mina died from tubercolosis, which greatly saddened Yavorov. She was buried in the cemetery of Boulogne Billancourt. Later on he met Lora, the daughter of statesman Petko Karavelov. They were married, and the letters correspondence between them was considered evidence of their ardent and vivid love, and thus different from the relationship Yavorov had with Mina Todorova. In 1912, Lora shot herself and Yavorov tried to commit suicide. The bullet went through his temporal bone, which left him blind. In despair over the trial provoked by Lora's death and the rumor that he had killed her, Yavorov poisoned and then shot himself in autumn 1914, at the age of 36.)

The Best Poem Of Peyo Yavorov

Armenians

Wretched exiles, rare survivors
Of a brave and martyr race
Children of a captive mother
Heroes with no resting place.
Far from home in squalid hovels
Sick and pale from lack of sleep.
See them drink to drown their sorrows
Hear them sing and, singing, weep!
Drink…
For drunkeness erases
Former troubles, present woes
Bitter memories effaces
Gives a broken heart repose.
Heads grow heavier,a mother's
Look of anguish disappears
And a son's appeal is smothered
For the mind no longer hears.
By a wolf-pack harried, frightened
See them scatter everywhere
As the ruthless, bloody tyrant
Waves his sabre in the air!
They have left their country bleeding
And paternal homes ablaze.
Only taverns offer welcome
To these wretched emigres.
Here they sing…
Wild songs, for savage
Injuries erode their hearts
Bitter thoughts their senses ravage
Every tear is hot and smarts…
Hearts are brimming full of malice
Rage cool judgement has dispersed
Bloodshot eyes dart thunder-flashes
Angry souls for vengeance thirst.
Winter winds intone a descant
Terrifying they swirl
Whirl and lift the song rebellious
Carry it across the world.
Fouler still the sky is seething
Chillier the frowning night
Ever louder the Armenians
Sing, the storm attains its height…
Thus they drink and sing…Survivors
Of a brave and martyr race.
Children of a captive mother
Heroes with no resting place.
Far from home, barefoot and ragged
In the slum squalor, shorn of sleep
See them drink to ease the agony
Hear them sing and, singing, weep!
Forlorn exiles, uncommon fighters
A martyr nation- daring and brave.
Children of an anxious Mother
Unseen heroes- turned into slaves.
Far from home in foreign land,
in squalid hovel ailing and pale,
they drink, with hearts full of pain,
hear them sing and spread their wail.
Drink… and drunkenness effaces
Former sorrows, present woes
Pouring wine memories erases
Broken souls will find repose.
They feel heads havier
A look of Mother's throe disappears
Wait for solace,it's already near
The maurnful cry nobody hears.
As a hounded drove by a starving beast
See them scattered all over the world
A raving oppressor, unmerciful fierce
Thirst for bloodshed at the point of the sword.
Compelled to leave their bloodstained Homeland
And so left their oun homes,burning in flames
Roving and outcast in a strange land
Remain in a tavern drawn anguish and blame.
Irate and wild is the song they are singing
Their hearts are wounded eroded by sores
The venom suppresses and they all are seething
Tormented and feeble pale faces in tears.
Venom and rage overfill their hearts
A blazing fire inside is burning their sense
In the bloody mad eyes it flashes and lightens
So bloodthirsty revenge seek and yearn their souls.
As if winter storm sings for their sores
A horrific night, the tempest swirls and rises
The whirl drifts away, carries and roars
The wroth rebel's song all over the place.
The sinister sky grows darker and darker
Not cosy and loured is the wintry night
The rebels sing heatedly louder and louder
And so the storm sings out with the highest might.
They drink and sing, uncommon fighters
A martyr nation- daring and brave.
Children of an anxious Mother
Unseen heroes- turned into slaves.
Far from home naked and barefoot
In squalid hovel - so far away
See them drink to drawn their sorrow
Hear them sing and spread their wail.

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