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#bulgaria – @ukdamo on Tumblr
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Damian: posts feature the pen and the pixel

@ukdamo / ukdamo.tumblr.com

Gay guy in England's north west. Retired Forensic Learning Disability nurse. Travel: Photography: Music: Literature
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A STORY

Georgi Gospodinov

INITIALLY STOLEN BUT THEN DONATED BY IVAN DOBCHEV IN A PUB IN NORMANDY, ABOUT HOW HIS GRANDFATHER IVAN, A CAVALRYMAN IN THREE WARS, WITH AN ORDER FOR MILITARY MERIT, IN HIS OLD AGE STRUGGLED TO GET ON HIS DONKEY, FURTIVELY, USING A STOOL HELD BY HIS WIFE, AND HOW ONE TIME THE DONKEY MOVED AND HE FELL OFF.

I was small and I started to laugh but my grandfather started to cry.

That’s the story.

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Today’s photo with the most hits: this shot of the Church if the Holy Trinity, in Ryse, Bulgaria. The photo of the interior of the church tells a different story.

At the time of its construction, Bulgaria was an Ottoman province and no Christian church could have a profile higher than a mosque, so the Christians excavated and put 80% of the church below ground, to stupendous effect. 

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A Tale of Honour

Hristo Smirnenski

It was an honour I never

have hoped for, to be sure!

The Devil invited me in

to try his best liqueur.

A candle lit his sharp profile.

Through smoke-rings in a haze,

With moist eyes Mephistopheles

upon me fixed his gaze.

His mien, though tinged with autumn grief,

was proud and cheerful too.

He cried: “In vino veritas” –

I shall be frank with you!

I can no longer bear the yoke

of cunning and deceit.

Here’s to your other-worldly warmth

and worldly woes we meet!

Long, long ago I came to earth

and as a joke, you see,

took worldly Truth to be my wife,

but she cuckolded me.

My honour to avenge I vowed.

In jealousy and pain,

I trampled human honour down

but mine I’ve not regained.

I sought in exploits to excel –

I died in many frays.

Though worthy causes I upheld,

no honours came my way.

Then in the street one day I propped

a sign I had prepared.

‘Here is a man without a scrap

of honour,’ it declared.

But, strangely, no one looked askance!

And why I never knew.

All men around me doffed their hats:

‘No honour? Good for you!’

A gentleman kissed me on sight:

‘Pal, you too?! Man alive!’

Two pretty ladies did invite:

‘Tomorrow tea at five!’

Amazing! Such attention rare

all did to me devote.

Kings, ministers, court ladies fair

fond letters to me wrote.

Behold me, rolling now in gold.

A man of place and pride!

A thief, a shameless rogue – I know –

but… honoured far and wide!

He paused, our glasses he refilled

and raised a toast with glee.

Then, blowing rings of smoke, he fixed

his bright green eyes on me.

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