/ world today news/ “Being a man is not impossible…”
It is difficult to talk about Doncho Tsonchev in the past tense..!
Because he is always with us.
It’s hard to separate the Writer from the Hunter,
The Friend of Man
Doncho Tsonchev from the Motherland……
The kinship with the macho of the Bulgarian spirit… who stood by us…
Reaching out for a toast…
Reaching out to support…
to help
to be with us… in our life’s human path – which became real with him.
WITHyou know that Doncho Tsonchev passed away on July 22, shortly before his birthday. In this regard, I remember the night on the eve of his 70th birthday. We have a cult-specific replica – Password, which has accompanied us throughout the years. It sounds familiar to our friends as an expression of some of our freedom.
„I’M GOING, I’M IN VIOLATION AND THAT’S ENOUGH”
I get home late after midnight that night after 03:30. My wife greets me with the line “D. Tsonchev looked for you several times and said no matter what time it is to call him as soon as you get home”..!? I frantically dial the number. Instantly I hear the familiar cheerful timbre opposite: “If you don’t know, my Poor Lazarus, that today is my birthday – I wanted you to hear it first. Listen now: …on page 70 of my life book.., I’m going, I’m in violation and that’s enough for me..!” And he hung up on me…….
…Nthe things with Doncho Tsonchev were simple and clear, like the song of his nightingale, there on the corner /of Angel Kanchev/ at the beggar with a wheelchair, sneaking among the Mercedes and guards of the new age…
…S breath of southern grapes and buffalo cheese, thoughts of Bate Doncho subtly bring us back to the hunting grounds of memories, where we will always be together and always, even when we are gone………!
A thought synthesized in writing by him, like many others, gave the beginning of the understanding of our truths.
He was my idol and teacher… almost since I was a child. Over the years, he called me son, brother, or whatever happened with our age in time………….. Bate Doncho – The head of the school. I had become him, as he called me – “an old muse in the hunt…” See you later – he messed up two stories, just like that, in jest, like a double from a pair…….. In time, the quails, the rabbits, and all the /as he called them/ ‘Wild Gentlemen’ became more and more invulnerable to this pair, but on the other hand, the doublets on the white sheet were uncompromising and precise. There was no space there.
Pafter the current filth of today, my mind goes way back to the time when we were boys, we had time to stare into our souls, we looked for our truths and idols everywhere…
We went hunting with Tolstoy, with Emilian Stanev, with Vishnia, with Bai Yordan Radichkov, we listened to Gershwin – and for a long time we did not fall asleep after the association with “Summer Time” by Doncho Tsonchev…
…Like today I remember him with the general’s hat of General Ruskov in the writers’ cafe…, surrounded by Bai Yordan, Jagarov, Sasho Dyakov… and the catchphrase “WE’RE GOING, WE’RE IN VIOLATION AND THAT’S ENOUGH FOR US”
Twell, somewhere, as if somehow imperceptibly – among the sunrises through the tusks of fate with the songs of Gluhara, with the love roar of Elena – propped up by the horns of the moon of Persina, with the night dance of the Owl… the spirit of Bulgaria is synthesized in… that School, invulnerable and imperishable over the years, this conspiracy of our spirit and faith, for which we enter the fire, swear by our children and can look them in the eyes… The hunt it became an aristocratic occupation of wise men, and “Cuckoo Day” more and more often scorched the comfort of “Princes”.
…Often, among friends and hunting passions, I called him “a living classic… He liked it, but he misinterpreted it. Today I understand not only that I was right, but also that this phenomenal chance of our generation to touch directly with this “disappearing species” of people, to be with them – these classics of life in our lifetime, who managed to be our idols as well, and our teachers and friends… We hunted side by side and had a path, an example, and somehow hunting and life became a cause, a game, a mission…
“A classic is one whose own profile emerges from all the patterns of life. And it gets more and more beautiful. Literary fashions stink until they finally bow to the classics… So it is in music, love, clothes… – everything…” – and so spoke the maestro of the short story.
TOogato wandered somewhere in the beauties of the Balkans, knowing my conspiratorial attitudes and faithful to his masterful interpretations, staring into the abyss of generosity around, he did not miss the moments for provocations: – Lazarus, my poor Lazarus, here now the Devil does not know where we are.. !
…Because somewhere there I had dedicated to him, to him and to all the people close to my spirit, a “Hunting” in which I said “I gave my soul to the Devil, he was moved and returned it to me with 300 Angels…
– What will you do, Lazarus, now the Soul… and without a cracked Devil around where will we find Angels in this majestic wasteland around us…
– You’re a living classic, aren’t you – I shoot quickly, – … you’ll always come up with something…
– I wander forever, always with this rifle in my hand… – The hoarse voice sneaks through the blast of the Morning… This wandering opens our senses to Nature, gifts us with this “Hunter” of yours, – both to animals and to people… But you see him Lazarus, my poor Lazarus…
…Then somewhere up, through the fog, an early-awake woodpecker, having counted the beat of the morning, died suddenly, listening to the pain of the old Strange song…
…Brave, brave..,
are you tired of the road
did you have a rifle?
or you bride domilya…
…Togava The Hunting Union was an institution… And the editorial office of the union media – a center of communities and personalities of the great caliber of our national intellectual elite… Scientists, writers, artists, journalists, state and intellectual greats “crossed swords” under Bate Donne, who as editor-in-chief and with the nobility of a knight carried out a unique creative pun and cultural exchange so that the title “DHe”… (Tsonchev), with which we “forced” him to sign, fully suited this exotic phenomenon for our socialist prosperous, but demanding “native” reality…
AND right here, at Doncho Tsonchev, the ordinary Bulgarian hunter sat at the same table with Georgi Jagarov, who embraced the “enemy of the people” and the personification of the Bulgarian spirit, Al. Dyakov, he shook hands with the wisdom of Mr. Yordan Radichkov, kissed Dora Gabe’s hand, the radiant Ginka Stancheva will smile, Pencho Kubadinski will turn his head menacingly, but with a smile under his mustache – despite the “Princes”… Angel Balevski will stir up another laugh, while Anya Pencheva casually leans on your shoulder…
…Dand we are not talking about the complicating fact that the union magazine has reached unprecedented for a national media to this day.., a monthly circulation of nearly 70,000 issues…
…Golyamata bebeda” was a screenplay by Doncho Tsonchev for the film of the same name, in which Kosta Tsonev and Yosif Sarchadzhiev brilliantly played the roles of Ivan and Doncho Tsonchev, who became republican motoring champions /64; 65; 66 years/. But the Great Victory of Life continued, and Doncho firmly kept the fire of our day going, and constantly convinced us with facts that “being a man is not impossible”.
…INI walked them with the eternal Sasho Dyakov for the opening of the hunt in Poibrene… We had taken the boys – Stefan and Omurtag, respectively 17 and 12 years old, and my Mitko, 4-5… When at 9.30 the dogs got tired, I led them around, past numerous Thracian mounds , I put them on “Sersem Kale” embraced by Mutivir, told loads of stories and legends from grandfather Lazar about Tsar Ivan Shishman, about treasures, destinies, loves… After a few months, the novel “Pthe Anagyurka” with the stories from the Poibren hunt, was bought out in bookstores within days, and Democracy had already exploded… – but people in Bulgaria read and loved their “living Classic…” and worshiped it.
„There is no plowman like Doncho Tsonchev in Bulgarian prose. The furrow behind him is brilliant and has magic in it’ – said Yordan Radichkov. It is also indicative of the joke going on between all of us and publicly quoted by the great Anton Donchev at the death of Doncho /July 22, 2010/ that if Jack London had been born in Bulgaria, his name would have been Doncho Tsonchev…
…Tsomewhere, sitting with “Xthe beautiful version’ of Pthe alacaria.., on “Sinura of the living,” I wrote down the words of “Mthe hunter’s oral code”, which Izgreva, like a golden Muse /as Doncho put it/ dictated to us from dawn… All around were the great hunting fields, smiling with the love of the grandfathers, in front of the children – hugging the dogs and the sunrise… and with that glow in the eyes, the only sign of hope that this ‘endangered species’ has a chance to live…
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Keep the hunt! – said Doncho…
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From behind the Field rang… time fart, time fart……..
MORAL CODE OF THE HUNTER
Chman, you are part of nature and nature is your destiny.
Lsheep, God has given you the great privilege of enjoying game and fish, along with the noble duty of being their protector.
TOwhat happens to animals will inevitably happen to man one day – remember this!
INtake from the field and the forest so that you can take again next year!
Cursed be he who forgets that our children and grandchildren dream of being hunters!
Ot the warden you can hide, from Gospoda – no.
Dswearing next to you is your greatest asset. Divide with him both your morsel and what the gossip has brought!
TOwhen you are among other hunters, forget who you are, what you are like, and what you have – remain their comrade and more, let them into your soul.
Nnever forget whose descendant you are and how Khan Asparukh served himself with the bow and arrows.
Respect old age, it is your future.
„From my fairly long career as a hunter/my first outing was in the winter of 1938, when I was five years old/I tell you with absolute certainty, hunter: Humanity, Friendship and Love are the sweetest things in this world. Point…’
Tthen we wished, and now – ten years after the death of Doncho Tsonchev, let’s wish… everyone in this world, every nation and culture should have one Emilian Stanev, one Doncho Tsonchev or one Nightingale and one school and everything that is enough for us to be and despite the Swamp, let us be there……
Thank you, Bate Don, for being with us and around..!
July 20, 2020
Lazar Murdjev
#Endangered #species #Doncho #Tsonchev
