Month: March 2019

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The Raising of Lazarus

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The Raising of Lazarus (From the New Testament, John XI)

Though this story is part of the larger narrative of the Gospel of St. John, it is a perfect example of the short story. The details that lead up to the dramatic climax are at first sight not entirely relevant. It is only after the story has been read in its entirety that we perceive the consummate art of the preparatory sentences. Balzac was, many centuries later, to apply this method to the writing of his novels.

The text is taken from the King James version. There is no title to the story in the original.

The Raising of Lazarus

Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) Therefore, his sister sent unto him saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick. When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.

Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When he had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was. Then after that saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judaea again. His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee; and goest thou thither again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world. But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because there is no light in him. These things said he: and after that he saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. Howbeit Jesus spake of his death: but they thought that he had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. 1 hen Jesus said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead.

And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe: never-theless let us go unto him. Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellow disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him Then when Jesus came, he found that he had lain in the grave four days already. Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem about fifteen furlongs off: and many of the Jews came unto Martha, and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother. Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him, but Mary sat still in the house. Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee. Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. Martha saith unto him, I know that he shall rise again me resurrection at the last day. Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this? She saith unto him, Yea, Lord; I believe that thou art the Christ, the son of God, which should come into the world. And when she had so said, she went her way, and called Mary her sister secretly, saying, The Master is come, and calleth for thee. As soon as she heard that, she arose quickly and came unto him.

Martha met him

Now Jesus was not yet come into the town, but was in that place where Martha met him. The Jews then which were with her in the house, and comforted her, when they saw Mary, that she rose up hastily and went out, followed her saying, She goes unto the grave to weep there. Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept. Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him! And some of them said, Could not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not have died? Jesus therefore again groaning in himself cometh to the grave.

It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days. Tesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God? Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.

And he that was dead, came forth, bound hand and foot with grave- clothes. And his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go. Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him.

The Jackal

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The Jackal (Anonymous: 14th Century A.D., or earlier)

Nothing is known of the author of the Hitopadesa, a manual of didac-tic fables composed—on the basis of the Panchatantra—before the year 1373 A.D.

The present story—which has no title in the original—is reprinted from Charles Wilkins’ translation, London, 1787.

The Jackal

From the Hitopadesa

A certain jackal, as he was roaming about the borders of a town, just as his inclinations led him, fell into a dyer’s vat; but being unable to get out, in the morning he feigned himself dead. At length, the master of the vat, which was filled with indigo, came, and seeing a jackal lying with his legs uppermost, his eyes closed, and his teeth bare, concluded that he was dead, and so, taking him out, he carried him a good way from the town, and there left him.

The sly animal instantly got up, and ran into the woods; when, observing that his coat was turned blue, he meditated in this manner: “I am now of the finest color! what great exaltation may I not bring about for myself?” Saying this, he called a number of jackals together, and addressed them in the following words: “Know that I have lately been sprinkled king of the forests, by the hands of the goddess herself who presides over these woods, with a water drawn from a variety of choice herbs. Observe my color, and henceforward let every business be transacted according to my orders.”

The rest of the jackals, seeing him of such a fine complexion, prostrated themselves before him, and said: “According as Your Highness commands!” By this step he made himself honored by his own relations, and so gained the supreme power over those of his own species, as well as all the other inhabitants of the forests. But after a while, finding himself surrounded by a levee of the first quality, such as the tiger and the like, he began to look down upon his relations; and, at length, he kept them at a distance.

Lion

A certain old jackal, perceiving that his brethren were very much cast down at this behavior, cried: “Do not despair! If it continue thus, this imprudent friend of ours will force us to be revenged. Let me alone to contrive his downfall. The lion, and the rest who pay him court, are taken by his outward appearance; and they obey him as their king, because they are not aware that he is nothing but a jackal: do something then by which he may be found out. Let this plan be pursued: Assemble all of you in a body about the close of the evening, and set up one general howl in his hearing; and I’ll warrant you, the natural disposition of his species will incline him to join in the cry for.

Whatever may be the natural propensity of anyone is very hard to be overcome. If a dog were made king, would he not gnaw his shoe straps?

And thus the tiger, discovering that he is nothing but a jackal, will presently put him to death.” The plan was executed, and the event was just as it had been foretold.

Rabbi Akiva

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The Talmud is a great collection of law, ritual, precept, and example, which was composed during the period extending from the First Century B.C. to the Fourth Century A.D. The work was the result of a vast amount of compilation begun, so far as the actual writing is concerned, in the year 219 A.D. by Rabbi Jehudah Hanassi. About the year 500 A.D. it was complete, having been combined with a good deal of material brought together since the first parts were written down. The colossal work is interspersed throughout with parables, like Rabbi Akiva and The Jewish Mother, all of which were used for purposes of illustration.
The texts of these stories are based, by the editors, upon two early translations. There are no titles to the stories in the original.

Rabbi Akiva

The Rabbis tell us that once the Roman Government made a decree forbidding Israel to study the law. Thereupon Pappus, son of Yehudah, one day found Rabbi Akiva teaching it openly to many whom he had gathered round him to hear it. “Akiva,” he said, “dost not thou fear the Government?” “Listen, was the reply, and I will tell thee how it is through a parable. It is the same with me as with the fishes which a fox, walking by a river s bank, saw darting distractedly to and fro in the stream; and, speaking to them, inquired, ‘From what, pray, are ye fleeing?’ ‘From the nets,’ they answered, ‘which the sons of men have set to snare us. Why, then, rejoined the fox, ‘not try the dry land with me, where we can live together, as our fathers managed to live before us?’

‘Surely,’ they exclaimed, thou art not he of whom we have heard as the most cunning of animals; for in this thing thou art not wise, but foolish. For if we have cause to fear where it is natural for us to live, how much more reason have we to do so where we must die!’ Exactly so,” continued Akiva, “is it with us who study the law, in which it is written, ‘He is thy life and the length of thy days; for if we suffer while studying the law, how much more shah we suffer if we neglect it?”

Not many days afterward it is related that Rabbi Akiva was arrested and thrown into prison. It so happened that they led him out for execution just at the time when Hear, O Israel was being repeated, and as they gashed his flesh Witfi currycombs, and as he was with longdrawn breath uttering the word One, his soul departed from him. Then there came forth a voice from heaven saying, “Blessed art thou, Rabbi Akiva, for thy soul and the word One left thy body together.”

Phineus And The Harpies

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Apollonius of Rhodes (3rd Century B.c.)

Although he was a late writer in the epic form, Apollonius treated ancient mythical material, but from the standpoint of a scholar and a literary stylist. He left his native land, Rhodes, and settled m Alexandria, then the centre of the cultured world. The tale of Phineus is not new, but the details which embellish it, and the verbal pyrotechnics which he lavished upon it, are highly characteristic of the decadent period in which it was written.

The present translation is that of R. C. Seaton, in the Loeb edition, William Heinemann, London, 1912. There is no title to the story in the original.

Phineus And The Harpies

There Phineus, son of Agenor, had his home by the sea, Phineus, who above all men endured most bitter woes because of the gift of prophecy which Leto’s son had granted him aforetime. And he reverenced not a whit even Zeus himself, for he foretold unerringly to men his sacred will. Wherefore Zeus sent upon him a lingering old age, and took from his eyes the pleasant light, and suffered him not to have joy of the dainties untold that the dwellers-around ever brought to his house when they came to inquire the will of heaven. But on a sudden, swooping through the clouds, the Harpies, with their crooked beaks, incessantly snatched the food away from his mouth and hands, and at times not a morsel of food was left, at others but a little, in order that he might live and be tormented. And they poured forth over all a loathsome stench; and no one dared not merely to carry food to his mouth, but even to stand at a distance, so foully reeked the remnants of the meal.

But straightway when he heard the voice and the tramp of the band he knew that they were the men passing by, at whose coming Zeus’s oracle had declared to him that he should have joy of his food. And he rose from his couch, like a lifeless dream, bowed over his staff, and crept to the door on his withered feet, feeling the walls; and as he moved, his limbs trembled for weakness and age; and his parched skin was caked with dirt, and naught but the skin held his bones together. And he came forth from the hall and sat on the threshold of the courtyard; and a dark stupor covered him, and it seemed that the earth reeled round beneath his feet, and he lay in a strength less trance, speechless. But when they saw him they gathered round and marveled, and he at last drew labored breath from the depths of his chest and spoke among them with prophetic utterance:

Son of Leto

“Listen, bravest of all the Hellenes, if it be truly ye, whom by a king’s ruthless command Jason is leading on the ship Argo in quest of the fleece. It is ye truly. Even yet my soul by its divinations knows everything. Thanks I render to thee, King, son of Leto, plunged in bitter affliction though I be. I beseech you by Zeus, the god of suppliants, the sternest foe to sinful men, and for the sake of Phoebus and Hera herself under whose especial care ye have come hither, help me, save an ill-fated man from misery, and depart not uncaring, and leaving me thus as ye see. For not only has the Fury set her foot on my eyes and I drag on to the end a weary old age, but besides my other woes a woe hangs over me, the bitterest of all.

The Harpies, swooping down from some unseen den of destruction, ever snatch the food from my mouth, and I have no device to aid me. But it were easier, when I long for a meal, to escape my own thoughts than them, so swiftly do they fly through the air. But if haply they do leave me a morsel of food, it reeks of decay and the stench is unendurable, nor could any mortal bear to draw near, even for a moment, no, not if his heart were wrought of adamant. But necessity, bitter and insatiate, compels me to abide, and abiding to put food into my accursed belly. These pests, the oracle declares, the sons of Boreas shall restrain, and no strangers are they that shall ward them off” if indeed I am Phineus who was once renowned among men for wealth and the gift of prophecy, and if I am the son of my father Agenor; and when I ruled among the Thracians, by my bridal gifts I brought home their sister Cleopatra to be my wife.”

So spake Agenor’s son, and deep sorrow seized each of the heroes, and especially the two sons of Boreas. And brushing away a tear, they drew nigh, and Zetes spake as follows, taking in his own the hand of the grief-worn sire:

“Unhappy one, none other of men is more wretched than thou, me- thinks. Why upon thee is laid the burden of so many sorrows? Hast thou with baneful folly sinned against the gods through thy skill in prophecy? For this are they greatly wroth with thee? Yet our spirit is dismayed within us for all our desire to aid thee, if indeed the god has granted this privilege to us two. For plain to discern to men of earth are the reproofs of the immortals. And we will never check the Harpies when they come, for all our desire, until thou hast sworn that for this we shall not lose the favor of heaven.”

Thus he spake; and towards him the aged sire opened his sightless eyes and lifted them up and replied with these words:

“Be silent, store not up such thoughts in thy heart, my child. Let the son of Leto be my witness, he who of his gracious will taught me the lore of prophecy, and be witness the ill-starred doom which possesses me, and this dark cloud upon my eyes, and the gods of the underworld —and may their curse be upon me if I die perjured thus—no wrath of heaven will fall upon you two for your help to me.”

Flash lightning

Then were those two eager to help him because of the oath. And quickly the younger heroes prepared a feast for the aged man, a last prey for the Harpies; and both stood near him, to smite with the sword those pests when they swooped down. Scarcely had the aged man touched the food when they forthwith, like bitter blasts or flashes of lightning, suddenly darted from the clouds, and swooped down with a yell, fiercely craving for food; and the heroes beheld them and shouted in the midst of their onrush. But they, at the cry, devoured everything and sped away over the sea afar, and an intolerable stench remained. And behind them the two sons of Boreas, raising their swords, rushed in pursuit.

For Zeus imparted to them tireless strength; but without Zeus they could not have followed, for the Harpies used ever to outstrip the blasts of the west wind when they came to Phineus, and when they left him. And, as when, upon the mountain-side, hounds, cunning in the chase, run in the track of horned goats or deer, and as they strain a little behind, gnash their teeth upon the edge of their teeth in vain; so Zetes and Calias rushing very near, just grazed the Harpies in vain with their fingertips.
And assuredly they would have torn them to pieces despite heaven’s will when they had overtaken them far off at the Floating Islands, had not swift Iris seen them and leaped down from the sky from heaven above and checked them with these words: “It is not lawful, O sons of Boreas, to strike with your swords the Harpies, the hounds of mighty Zeus; but I myself will give you a pledge, that hereafter they shall not draw near to Phineus.”

With these words she took an oath by the water of Styx, which to all the gods is most dread and most awful, that the Harpies would never thereafter again approach the home of Phineus, son of Agenor, for so it was fated. And the heroes, yielding to the oath, turned back their flight to the ship. And, on account of this, men called them the Islands of Turning, though aforetime they had called them the Floating Islands. And the Harpies and Iris parted. They entered their den in Minoan Crete; but she sped up to Olympus, soaring aloft on her swift wings.

Meantime the chiefs carefully cleansed the old man’s squalid skin, and, with due selection, sacrificed sheep which they had borne away from the spoil of Amycus. And when they had laid a huge supper in the hall, they sat down and feasted, and with them feasted Phineus ravenously, delighting his soul as in a dream. And there, when they had taken their fill of food and drink, they kept awake all night, waiting for the sons of Boreas. And the aged sire himself sat in the midst, near the hearth, telling of the end of their voyage and the completion of their journey.

Customized tour Bulgaria

08/03/2019 | TM6 | No Comments

After a hardworking month or year, the normal thing is to think of a way to relax. Many and different the ways are but the most common one is to travel. Although the easiest way to do it is by reading a nice book, a magazine or a brochure about a place, you can simply see a commercial on TV. Then travel in your mind to different worlds. That’s how dreams are born. Dreams to visit these worlds in real. The imagination is woken up and takes over. Once it’s up, you cannot stop it easily. It hovers around. It needs information to grow, to realize and to make the dreams for customized tour Bulgaria come true.

Then, there is another way, the actual travelling. However, it is not in your mind but in a car, on the bus or plane, or in your mobile home – camper. This i the travelling that follows the imagination. Then dreams become reality and memories start to fill your mind, your heart. The next best thing to be done is to plan your Bulgaria holidays. And put your customized tour Bulgaria in action.

Visit Bulgaria

Tour bulgaria, Belogradchik Fortress InnerThe laugh, the games, even the songs during a nice journey cannot be replaced for a better thing.

Firstly, Bulgaria is a good place to start with (if you haven’t yet started) or the next good place to visit.

Secondly, there are many things to do and places to visit in Bulgaria. For example, the Bulgarian Black Sea coast is a destination, preferred by many (coastal Bulgaria holidays). And as the climate is good, it can turn out a really relaxing and fun holiday in Bulgaria.

Balkan (mountain) tours are for the ones who need a more peaceful vacation.

Last  but not least are the Rose Valley, the valley of the Thracian Kings, the old good Plovdiv. Or Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. The monasteries – The Rozhen Monastery or the Rila Monastery, the Aladzha Monastery, all the festivals…

Please visit www.enmarbg.com for detailed information.

Private Bulgaria tours Yachting

07/03/2019 | TM6 | No Comments

Private Bulgaria tours yachting in a different yachting way

Close your eyes and think about your dream private Bulgaria tours. Also, think about private Bulgaria tours yachting. And get ready to explore the country and the Black Sea coast in a completely different way.

Yachting in Bulgaria offers opportunities for turning your holiday into beautiful memories. And I promise you can collect memories everywhere in Bulgaria. (Sofia sightseeing)

During the past few years, some of the elite marine complexes and resort towns have built yacht ports. The ports in the resorts Rusalka, Tyulenovo, Balchik, Golden Sands and Varna offer fine opportunities for private Bulgaria tours yachting along the northern Black Sea coast. Options for yacht tourism on the southern Black Sea coast are offered in Burgas. And at the resorts St. Vlas, Nesebar, Sozopol, and Dyuni as well.

Why Bulgaria

Why you should choose Bulgaria? What are the things to do in Bulgaria when sailing on the Black Sea? When on private Bulgaria tours yachting?

Bulgarian nature. Because the country is a piece of heaven – warm sea, sunny beaches and the magnificent peaks of the mountains, in the near distance, covered in snow. It is beautiful mountains and valleys (visit the Rose Valley for Rose Festival tour). It is forests, lakes, waterfalls, rivers and sea as well. You can find anything you want. Climate in Bulgaria is moderate – warm, sunny summers and mild but snowy winters. The sea – quiet, calm, warm sea. Amazing long beaches with incredible sand, picturesque rocky shores. These are ones of the main Bulgaria tourist attractions for Bulgaria private tours.

Bulgaria Boat Trip

Bulgaria is an ancient country with rich history and a lot to show to tourists who decide to visit Bulgaria and enjoy private Bulgaria tours (and private Bulgaria tours yachting). There are numerous historical and architectural sites to be seen. Among them are the Varna Necropolis, where the oldest processed gold in the world is found; Thracian tombs and temples with gold treasures of world appreciation; architectural and historical sites and parks and many others…

Discover Varna

05/03/2019 | BM6 | No Comments

Private Tours Bulgaria – Varna – an attractive place…

Bulgaria maybe a small country but it has two capitals. And they are Sofia (Sofia city tour) and the sea capital, Varna. Varna is one of the oldest settlements on the Bulgarian lands. It is on the Bulgarian coast and is the third biggest city in Bulgaria. It’s been officially announced a sea resort in 1921. It is also one of Bulgaria destinations that tourists like. It is a lively place which everybody remembers long after. A great place for great private tours in Bulgaria.

Varna

‘The Museum of History and Arts’ will introduce us to the history and culture of Varna from its early centuries to the Second Bulgarian Kingdom.

Private Tours Bulgaria Varna – Park-Museum of the Combat Friendship

‘Park-Museum of the Combat Friendship’ is a pleasant place for relaxation both for families with children and individual tourists. It offers history monuments as well as nature beauties.

One of the symbols of the sea capital is the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin. It is a temple for the ones praying and an attraction for the tourists. This holy place will take us in the world of spirituality.

Our private tours in Bulgaria, around Varna, follow the development of the city during its different stages. The ‘Museum of National Revival’ – the exposition highlights the important moments of Varna’s history during the Revival period.

Varna is considered an important cultural centre. It hosts the Film Festival ‘Love is Folly’. Also, the Varna Summer International Music Festival. The International Puppet Festival ‘Golden Dolphin’ too and many others.

Varna is not the only place in Bulgaria that hosts festivals, though. Quite many places have their holdays, carnivals. The town of Kazanlak is one of these places. It is famous for its Rose Festival (Bulgaria private tours kazanlak).

The article above is copied from the official website of EnmarBg. For more information, please visit www.enmarbg.com.

Bulgaria Tour Balchik Kaliakra Yailata

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Balchik Kaliakra Yailata – to remember your Bulgaria tour

Our offer is for one day Bulgaria tour Balchik. Kaliakra, Yailata and Balchik are not far away from Varna. And they are on the Bulgarian coast as well. As for the capital of Bulgaria, the distance is a little bit too much for one day from Sofia. However, there is a solution. A day in Sofia for sightseeing tour Sofia. Then, from one capital to the other, Varna.

. Kaliakra, Yailata and Balchik are not far away from Varna. And they are on the Bulgarian coast as well. As for the capital of Bulgaria, the distance is a little bit too much for one day from Sofia. However, there is a solution. A day in Sofia for sightseeing tour Sofia. Then, from one capital to the other, Varna.

Stone Forest

So, let the tour begin. We are leaving from Varna in the morning to the town of Balchik (Bulgaria tour Balchik). The town is the third in significance Bulgarian port after Varna and Burgas. One of the main tourist attractions in Balchik is the Architectural Park Complex ‘Balchik Palace’. It was built between 1926 and 1937 as a summer residence for the Romanian Queen Maria.

Diego Endara Tour

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VIIIth International Meeting Bulgaria 2018

Diego Endara, an eccentric guy from Ecuador. He is passionately in love with Bulgaria and has already written 3 books about it. He managed to gather a group of ex students in Bulgaria and their families from around 11 countries, mostly from middle and South America. And here they are, in Bulgaria, for their excellent Bulgaria tour. Of course, I shouldn’t forget to mention that Diego suggested an itinerary. We forked on different routes for almost a year. Eventually, a little bit tight but good program came as a result.

Some of these students (successful people and professionals today) studied in Bulgaria 30 years ago. Very few of them have come back to Bulgaria once or twice for these 30 years. But 2018 was the year they all met here, in Bulgaria. It was a great and memorable experience for them…
We are looking forward to entertain you again, Diego.

The tour

Sofia

Meet the guide at Sofia Airport beginning of September, 2018.
Check in into a hotel in Sofia. Dinner in the hotel and overnight. Everybody is tired from their flights.

Sofia – Vitosha Mountain

That was the day devoted to Sofia. A sightseeing tour Sofia – to see if Sofia has changed for the last 30 years.

Sofia is the capital of Bulgaria and it’s not a big metropolis (just like whole Bulgaria – small and full of beauty and surprises). But it’s a modern, youthful city where churches, synagogues, Ottoman mosques and communist monuments live together peacefully and in harmony. Sofia is an old settlement with the previous name of Serdica. The tour offers a good mixture of traditional and modern Sofia. Well, has Sofia changed? Has Bulgaria changed for the last 30 years?

Some time spent on Vitosha Mountain. When one lives in a big city, where life never seems to stop and the city is at the foot of a mountain, is considered lucky. Vitosha Mountain means relaxation and it’s a great opportunity to slow the pace down a little bit.

You like to learn more then please visit www.enmarbg.com.

In the Storm part 4

02/03/2019 | LM6 | No Comments

She was running to the road just beyond the village.

They had surely gone for a walk on the road, where they had been seen several times. She would meet them on the way, or in Jonah’s inn near the big forest.

On the Gentile’s lane, the last one of the village, the dogs in the yards heard her hastening steps upon the drenched earth. Some of them began to bark behind the gates, not caring to venture out into the rain; others were not so lazy and crawled out from under the gates with an angry yelping.

She neither saw nor heard them, however. She only gazed far out over the road, which began at the lane, and ran along.
One dog seized her skirt, which had become heavy with water. She did not heed this, and dragged the animal along for part of the way, until it tired of keeping pace with her in the pelting downpour. So it released her skirt. For a moment it thought of seizing her in some other spot, but at once, with a sullen growl, it set out for its yard.

Water-Laden Atmosphere

On the road the wind became still stronger. And the thunder reechoed here with thousands of reverberations from the neighboring forest. Cheyne looked only straight before her, into the distance, through the dense, water-laden atmosphere.

The way was strewn with heaps of twigs and branches that had been severed by the lightning, and even, a few trees lay before her, tom up from their very roots, and charred.

“Would to God that the thunder would strike them even so!” she muttered.

She was consumed by an inner cry. Now she had found a definite form for all her curses. The thunder up yonder had tom it from her.

And she ran on, on. …

But what is this here?

A few paces before her lie two persons. A man and a woman. With contorted visages. In writhing positions. Their faces black as earth, their eyes rolled back. Two corpses, struck by lightning.

There was a brilliant flash, followed by a deafening thunderclap.
She recognized her daughter.

More by her clothes than by her charred countenance; more by her entire figure than by the horribly staring whites of her eyes.

The girl’s arm lay beneath that of the young man. The top of the open umbrella in the youth’s hand had been burned off.

The old woman was on the point of shrieking a curse, of adding her thunder to the fury of the storm’s thunder; her eyes flashed together with the lightning; in her heart there arose a devastating tempest.

She wished to cry out the most evil of words—that the dead maiden had earned her end. She desired to send after her the most wretched and degrading of names.

Suddenly, however, all grew black before her. A flood of molten lead seemed to pour into her head. Weariness and trembling fell upon her. Her garments, saturated with the rain, seemed to drag her to the earth. Her eyes were extinguished.

The thunder and lightning and shrieking of the wind broke out anew.
But within the old woman all was quiet, dark, dead. She sank to her knees before the corpse of her daughter, stretched over the body her trembling arms, and a dull flame flickered up in her eyes.

Her entire being quivered. Her teeth knocked together. And with a hoarse, toneless voice she gasped:

“My darling daughter! Hennye, my darling!”

In the Storm part 3

02/03/2019 | LM6 | No Comments

Then she flew back. On the threshold, however, she paused for a moment. She rolled her eyes heavenward and raised her arms to God.
“May flames devour this house!” came from her in a hoarse voice.

Then she departed, pulling the street door violently and leaving it open. The household stood agape, as if the storm itself had tom into the home. Out of sheer stupefaction the persons forgot to close their mouths.
Out of the clouds poured a drenching rain mixed with hail. The tempest seethed like a cauldron.

This boiling tempest, however, raged in Cheyne’s bosom. Something stormed furiously within her. She no longer felt the ground beneath her. The flood soaked her through and through, but this could not restrain her. It served only to augment her savage mood.

She ran from house to house, wherever she might have expected to come upon her daughter and the “apostate.” She stopped nowhere, uttered never a word, but dashed in and then sped out like a flash of lightning, leaving the household open-mouthed with astonishment.
She would find them! Even under the ground. And she did not stop her cursing and her maledictions.

As she rushed from the last house she paused for a moment. Whither now?

She turned homeward. Her heart told her that her daughter was now at home. Her lips muttered the most terrible imprecations, and the inner fury was at its height; the very air, it seemed to her, was laden with her cries, with her curses and oaths.

With a strong gust of wind, a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder, she tore into her home.

Her daughter was not there.

She sank upon a chair and burst into wailing.

Thunderclaps

There was a terrifying crash of thunder. One of those thunderclaps that work the most widespread havoc. Nature seemed to be shaking off the entire residue of energy that had been left to her by the hot summer.
The inhabitants of the village were rooted to the spot in terror. They looked about, then ventured a glance outside. Hadn’t some misfortune occurred? The penitents buried their faces deeper than ever in their prayer-books, and more than ever their voices quivered.

Cheyne, however, had apparently not heard the thunder. She continued to wail, to wail bitterly. Then a wild cry issued from her throat, us wild as the thunder:

“May she not live to come home! May they bring her to me dead! O Lord of the universe!”

The clouds replied with a clap of thunder and the wind sped apace, shrieking.

Suddenly she arose and dashed out as before. The wind accompanied her. Now it thrust her forward from behind, now it ran ahead like a faithful dog, smiting all in its path, raising the dirt from the road and mixing it with the thick drops that fell from the clouds, which were still black, and with the seething drops that coursed from her burning eyes.

In the Storm part 2

02/03/2019 | LM6 | No Comments

She had gone! And she had warned her daughter, it seemed, not to go out to-day—that on the Sabbath of Repentance, at least, she might remain at home and not run off to that “Apostate,” the former student.

Her aged countenance became as dark as the sky without. And her heart grew as furious as the storm. She gazed about the room as if seeking to vent her rage—strike somebody, break something.

“Oh, may she no longer be a daughter of mine!” escaped in angry
outburst from her storming bosom, and she raised her hand to heaven.

She was not affrighted by the curse that her lips had uttered on this solemn Sabbath. At this moment she could curse and shriek the bitterest words. She could have seized her now by the hair, and slapped her face ruthlessly.

Suddenly she threw a shawl over her head and dashed out of the house.
She would hunt them both out and would visit an evil end upon both of them.

A flash of lightning rent the clouds, and was followed by reverberating thunder. Then flash upon flash of lightning and crash upon crash of thunder. One more blinding than the other, one louder than the other!

Population Grew Greater

The horror of the population grew greater. That it should thunder on the Sabbath of Repentance, and in such demoniac fashion! All hearts were touched, all souls went out in prayer.

Old Cheyne, however, scarcely noticed this.

The wind blinded her eyes with dust, tore her scarf from her, blew her skirts about, twisted the wig on her old head.

She rushed along oblivious to all.

She neither heard nor saw anything before her. Within her it thundered and raged, it stormed and something drove her on. And before her all was dark, for her eyes were shot with blood.

Her small form grew even smaller. She strode along fairly doubled up, hastening breathlessly. She seemed to go faster than the wind. The wind lagged behind her. And whenever it caught up with her, it only spurred her on, and she quickened her step.

She did not look around, did not remark the inquisitive eyes that peered at her from behind the fastened windows by which she ran. She neither saw nor heard anything. Her entire being was merged with the fury of nature. Her thought was a curse, a horrible curse, a deadly curse. Not in words. But in her whole soul. Within her it cried, it thundered —drowning out the thunder of the black, angry clouds.

She stormed into the “apostate’s” house. She opened the door with a loud bang and closed it with one even louder. Those in the room shuddered at the sudden intrusion and jumped to their feet. She cast a wild, hostile glance at them and dashed through the rooms, from one to the other, from the other to a third.

he tore the doors open and slammed them behind her, accompanied by the thunder, as if in a wager as to which of them would make the panes and the windows rattle more violently. A little child took fright and began to cry. She ran from room to room, but neither he nor her daughter was there.

In the Storm part 1

02/03/2019 | LM6 | No Comments

David Pinski (1872—1959)

David Pinski was born in Russia, but lived chiefly abroad, first in Germany, later in the United States and in Israel. He was preeminent as a dramatist and writer of stories. An artist of great culture and a finished stylist, he found in the proletariat the subject-matter of many of his plays and stories. His volume of Tales Temptations, was once “censored” by the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, on what grounds it still remains to be discovered.

In the Storm, which appears in temptations, is one of the most effective and highly finished examples of the Yiddish short story.

Reprinted, in the translation by Isaac Goldberg, from temptations, published by Brentano’s, 1920, by whose permission it is here used.

In the Storm

A pious woman told it to me as a warning to sinners, to the young, to the modems.

Black clouds began to fleck the clear sky. Dense, heavy storm clouds. At first far off, beyond the forest, but very soon they darkened the whole sky over the village. A violent wind lashed and drove them on, and they sped under its whip, angry and sullen, menacing. The wind— a tornado—raged in all the consciousness of its formidable power, raising pillars of dust as high as the driven clouds, tearing off roofs and uprooting trees.

Terror had descended upon the village. Bright day had of a sudden turned to night, such as well befitted the Sabbath of Repentance, the Sabbath before the Day of Atonement. … As frightfully dark, as oppressively heavy as a pious Jew’s heart.

Folks shut themselves up in their houses, fastening windows and locking doors. The earnest faces of the penitent Jews became still more earnest. The depressing moods of the Sabbath of Repentance waxed still more depressing. God was scolding. The sad voices of the psalm- singers became deeper and more tearful.

The darkness grew blacker and blacker. Then old Cheyne raised her eyes from the psalms, looked through her spectacles into the street, uttered “Au-hu!” with trembling heart and heaved a sigh.

For a while she sat gazing outside. She shook her head. Her whole soul was full of God’s omnipotence.

It refused to grow lighter. The clouds passed by in endless procession, and the wind howled, whirling thick pillars of dust in its path.

She could recite psalms no longer. She removed her spectacles and placed them between the pages of her thick woman’s prayer-book, rose from her seat and went into her daughter’s room.

“What do you say to…”

She did not conclude her question. Her daughter was not there. The old woman surveyed the room, looked into the kitchen, then returned to the room. Her daughter’s bonnet was not in its place. With quivering hands she opened the closet. The jacket was missing!

The Kaddish part 2

02/03/2019 | GM6 | No Comments

The seven girls took alarm.

“That is for joy,” explained the “grandmother.” “I have known that happen before.”

“A boy… a boy!” sobbed Reb Selig, overcome with happiness, “a boy… a boy… a Kaddish!”

The little boy received the name of Jacob, but he was called, by way of a talisman, Alter.

Reb Selig was a learned man, and inclined to think lightly of such protective measures; he even laughed at his Cheike for believing in such foolishness; but, at heart, he was content to have it so. Who could tell what might not be in it, after all? Women sometimes know better than men.

By the time Alterke was three years old, Reb Selig’s cough had become worse, the sense of oppression on his chest more frequent. But he held himself morally erect, and looked death calmly in the face, as though he would say, “Now I can afford to laugh at you—I leave a Kaddish!”
“What do you think, Cheike,” he would say to his wife, after a fit of coughing, “would Alterke be able to say Kaddish if I were to die to-day or to-morrow?”

“Go along with you, crazy pate!” Cheike would exclaim in secret alarm. “You are going to live a long while! Is your cough anything new?”

Selig smiled, “Foolish woman, she supposes I am afraid to die. When one leaves a Kaddish, death is a trifle.”

Alterke was sitting playing with a prayer-book and imitating his father at prayer, “A num-num—a num-num.”

“Listen to him praying!” and Cheike turned delightedly to her husband. “His soul is piously inclined!”

Selig made no reply, he only gazed at his Kaddish with a beaming face. Then an idea came into his head: Alterke will be a Tzaddik, will help him out of all his difficulties in the other world.

“Marne, I want to eat!” wailed Alterke, suddenly.

He was given a piece of the white bread which was laid aside, for him only, every Sabbath.

Alterke began to eat.

“Who bringest forth! Who bringest forth!” called out Reb Selig.
“Tan’t!” answered the child.

“It is time you taught him to say grace,” observed Cheike.
And Reb Selig drew Alterke to him and began to repeat with him.

“Say: Boruch.”

“Bo’uch,” repeated the child after his fashion.

“Attoh.”

“Attoh.”

Selig saw Afterke

When Alterke had finished “Who bringest forth,” Cheike answered piously Amen and Reb Selig saw Afterke, in imagination, standing in the synagogue and repeating Kaddish, and heard the congregation answer Amen, and he felt as though he were already seated in the Garden of Eden.

Another year went by, and Reb Selig was feeling very poorly. Spring had come, the snow had melted, and he found the wet weather more trying than ever before. He could just drag himself early to the synagogue, but going to the afternoon service had become a difficulty, and he used to recite the afternoon and later service at home, and spend the whole evening with Alterke.

It was late at night. All the houses were shut. Reb Selig sat at his little table, and was looking into the corner where Cheike’s bed stood, and where Alterke slept beside her. Selig had a feeling that he would die that night. He felt very tired and weak, and with an imploring look he crept up to Alterke’s crib, and began to wake him.

The child woke with a start.

“Alterke”—Reb Selig was stroking the little head—“come to me for a little!”

The child, who had had his first sleep out, sprang up, and went to his father. .

Reb Selig sat down in the chair which stood by the little table with the open Gemoreh, lifted Alterke onto the table, and looked into his eyes.

“Alterke!”

“What, Tate?”

“Would you like me to die?”

“Like,” answered the child, not knowing what “to die” meant, and thinking it must be something nice.

“Will you say Kaddish after me?” asked Reb Selig, in a strangled voice, and he was seized with a fit of coughing.

“Will say!” promised the child.

“Shall you know how?”

“Shall!”

“Well, now, say: Yisgaddal.”

“Yisdaddal,” repeated the child in his own way.

“Veyiskaddash.”

“Veyistaddash.”

And Reb Selig repeated the Kaddish with him several times.

The small lamp burnt low, and scarcely illuminated Reb Selig’s yellow, corpse-like face, or the little one of Alterke, who repeated wearily the difficult, and to him unintelligible, words of the Kaddish. And Alterke, all the while, gazed intently into the comer, where Tate’s shadow and his own had a most fantastic and frightening appearance.

The Kaddish part 1

02/03/2019 | GM6 | No Comments

Abraham Raisin (187&—1953)

Raisin is another of the Yiddish group who came from Russia, though he lived for some time in the United States. He is equally well-known among Yiddish readers as a poet and as a writer of stories.

The technical virtues of this popular and influential artist are particularly well exemplified in The Kaddish.

This story is reprinted from the volume, Yiddish Tales, translated by Helena Frank, copyright, 1912, by the Jewish Publication Society of America, by whose permission it is here used.

The Kaddish

From behind the curtain came low moans, and low words of encouragement from the old and experienced Bobbe. In the room it was dismal to suffocation. The seven children, all girls, between twenty three and four years old, sat quietly each by herself, with drooping head, and waited for something dreadful.

At a little table near a great cupboard with books sat the “patriarch” Reb Selig Chanes, a tall, thin Jew, with a yellow, consumptive face. He was chanting in low, broken tones out of a big Gemoreh, and continually raising his head, giving a nervous glance at the curtain, and then, without inquiring what might be going on beyond the low moaning, taking up once again his sad, tremulous chant. He seemed to be suffering more than the woman in childbirth herself.

“Lord of the World!”—it was the eldest daughter who broke the stillness—“Let it be a boy for once! Help, Lord of the World, have pity!”

“Oi, thus might it be, Lord of the World!” chimed in the second.

And all the girls, little and big, with broken heart and prostrate spirit, prayed that there might be bom a boy.

Reb Selig raised his eyes from the Gemoreh, glanced at the curtain, then at the seven girls, gave vent to a deep-drawn Oi, made a gesture with his hand, and said with settled despair, “She will give you another sister!”

The seven girls looked at one another in desperation; their father’s conclusion quite crushed them, and they had no longer even the courage to pray.

Only the littlest, the four-year-old, in the tom frock, prayed softly:

“Oi, please God, there will be a little brother.”

“I shall die without a Kaddish!” groaned Reb Selig.

The time drags on, the moans behind the curtain grow louder, and Reb Selig and the elder girls feel that soon, very soon, the “grandmother” will call out in despair, “A little girl!” And Reb Selig feels that the words will strike home to his heart like a blow, and he resolves to run away.

He goes out into the yard, and looks up at the sky. It is midnight. The moon swims along so quietly and indifferently, the stars seem to frolic and rock themselves like little children, and still Reb Selig hears, in the “grandmother’s” husky voice, “A girl!”

“Well, there will be no Kaddish! Verfallen!” he says, crossing the yard again. “There’s no getting it by force!”

But his trying to calm himself is useless; the fear that it should be a girl only grows upon him. He loses patience, and goes back into the house.
But the house is in a turmoil.

“What is it, eh?”

“A little boy! Tate, a boy! Tatinke, as surely may I be well!” With this news the seven girls fall upon him with radiant faces.

“Eh, a little boy?” asked Reb Selig, as though bewildered, “eh? what?”
“A boy, Reb Selig, a Kaddish!” announced the “grandmother.” “As soon as I have bathed him, I will show him you!”.

“A boy… a boy…” stammered Reb Selig in the same bewilderment, and he leaned against the wall, and burst into tears like a woman.

Beglik Tash Tour

01/03/2019 | TM6 | No Comments

Tours Bulgaria Beglik Tash – one-day tour

Tours Bulgaria Beglik Tash include Nessebar, Beglik Tash and the river Ropotamo

Because the tour starts from Nessebar, here we give you short information about the distance from the bigger Bulgarian cities and the capital Sofia (city tours Sofia):
Sofia – Nessebar – 412 km/ 4 hours
Varna – Nessebar – 100 km/ 1 hour 30 min
Burgas – Nessebar – 35 km/ 35 min
Plovdiv – Nessebar – 282 km/ 2 hours 50 min

The tour starts from Nessebar – the ‘Pearl of the Black Sea’. This town on the Black sea coast is a modern and contemporary town. It is perfect for great Bulgaria tours.

Nessebar can be a starting point for other coastal Bulgaria tours.

Of course, Nessebar is in the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites. The Old Nessebar is the place that attracts people the most. This is because it is an attractive place for romantic walks along the narrow cobbled streets. The well-preserved houses of the Revival Period, typical for the Black Sea architecture, add to the charm of the Old Nessebar. The Archaelogical Museum, the Church of St Sophia or the Old Bishopric (the Old Mitropoliya) are only part of the interesting places to visit. Also the Church of St Stephen or the New Bishopric (the New Mitropoliya).

Nessebar is especially proud of its churches. Main Bulgaria tourist attractions the churches are impressive, no matter if you are a worshipper or not.

Please visit www.enmarbg.com for more detailed information.

Tours Bulgaria around Monasteries

01/03/2019 | BM6 | No Comments

Monasteries in Bulgaria, tours Bulgaria, are unique because of their rich architecture, their icons and wall paintings. It’s not about religion or belief. Nor about being part of a mystery. It’s about a special atmosphere. Atmosphere of intimacy, cosiness… Bulgarian monasteries are also unique because of the legends around them. There is always mystery around each holy place.

This 22-day monasteries tour we made for a family for the summer of 2017. Many monasteries, many places they visited. All good memories and experiences.

Here we introduce the tour to you, the different destinations with some information.

The tour

Sofia – Rila Monastery

On the day of the arrival, for all tours Bulgaria, you meet the guide. This tour started with a visit to the Rila Monastery. This is the place that preserved Bulgarian culture alive in the years of the Ottomans (Istanbul day trips). Declared a National Museum and a National Historical reserve, The Rila Monastery is included in the List of World Cultural Heritage of UNESCO. It also became a National Museum and a National Historical reserve. The monastery is one of the symbols of Bulgaria.

Rila Monastery – Melnik

A tour around the monastery to get you to know this holy place and feel its atmosphere.

Not far away is the smallest town of Bulgaria, Melnik. The tour, tours Bulgaria, takes you to a place definitely not ‘small’ in history. The thousands-year-old Melnik offers serenity, a mountain, rich history, cosiness, stunning scenery, rich wine… It is a romantic and full of charm place.

Melnik is the smallest town of Bulgaria. People also know it as one of the places where great wine is produced and the place of the sand pyramids. The Kordopulov’s House is supposed to be the biggest residential building on the Balkan Peninsula from the Revival period. And it is in that small town of Melnik.

Rozhen Monastery, Baba Vanga, Rupite

When you tell a Bulgarian Melnik, they will immediately tell you about the already mentioned things and also the Rozhen Monastery and Rupite.
Rupite is one of the best places to visit in Bulgaria, on tours Bulgaria. It is best known as the place where the Bulgarian medium Baba Vanga lived and was buried. The area is in fact the crater of an extinct volcano. There is the ‘St. Petka’ Church, built with Vanga’s will and a place of worship for many people. There is also her small house where she would meet all the people in need in the last 25 years of her life.

‘St. Antonius the Great’ Monastery and another monastery are awaiting us – this is the Rozhen Monastery, built in 1890, with fine frescoes and amazing wood carvings.

Like I promised, there are always legends and secrets around the monasteries and churches in Bulgaria. There is a mystery, they say, of Dobarsko Church. It is very distinct from average Orthodox churches. Its freѕсoeѕ dated 400 уears ago. Among them there are two dіѕmaуіng freѕсоeѕ of Јeѕuѕ Chrіѕt deрісted іn ѕomethіng that lookѕ lіke a ѕрaсeѕhір. It is a small church – 160 sq.m. but there are 460 human figures in it.

The village in the hug of three mountains

On the road to Gorno Draglishte. The village is located at the foot of Rila mountain, close to the small town of Razlog. Three mountains surround the place – Rila mountain, Pirin mountain and Rhodopi mountain. There is a small guest house there which has the ‘Green House’ certificate. That certificate is a brand for quality and hospitality; for authentic welcoming and care for the nature while hosts cater for their guests.

The house and its hosts offer various interesting traditional for the region activities. These are cooking local foods together with the attractive hostess, loom weaving. Also, using a distaff and a spindle, dancing traditional Bulgarian folklore dances…

Bansko, Nikopolis Ad Nestum, Leshten, Kovachevitsa, Delchevo – tours Bulgaria

We say goodbye to the attractive hosts and on the road to one of Bulgaria’s best ski resorts, Bansko. Bansko is a charming historic town with a stunning alpine background. Being part of the National Park Pirin, Bansko offers a great location for both summer vacations and ski holidays. There are multiple museums and landmarks in the town. 130 architectural and historical monuments of culture, seven of which are of national significance. Of the main sightseeings of the town of Bansko are the “St.Trinity” Church, the “Neofit Rilski” Museum Complex, the Museum House of Nikola Vaptsarov and the intellectual and historical centre “St. Paisiy Hilendarski”. In the Historical-Ethnographic Complex “Radonova House”, a rich ethnographic exposition presents in a unique way, the nature and the special features of the local material culture.

Nikopolis Ad Nestum. This is one of the three cities that the Roman Emperor Trajan built in year 106. He built it to celebrate the victory over the province of Dacia. It is in a very good condition. There is a wall around the huge city and inside you can see religious buildings, residential areas. And of course a huge Roman bath, with the area for the hot and cold water. Also the channels for the water and others.

Ah, that Rhodopi mountain

Tours Bulgaria continue with the villages of Leshten and Kovachevitsa. They are two colourful villages located in the Rhodopi mountain. Leshten attracts tourists with its authentic look and the old houses, preserved since the Bulgarian Revival (18th – 19th century). The church “”St Paraskeva”” is from the year 1837. Now it is an Architectural and Cultural Monument of local importance.
Kovachevitsa was established after 1656 and it was an educational centre. Because of its typical architecture, in 1977 the village became a historical and architectural reservation. Interesting to see is the church “St. Nikolas”, which was built in 1847.

Dolno Dryanovo, Kribul, Dospat, Trigrad

Rhodopi mountain is a magic place. There is special energy in this place. Warm, friendly people… Whichever place one visits there on tours Bulgaria, they will remember their experience. The following places are in the region of the mountain.

The villages of Dolno Dryanovo and Kribul and the town of Dospat. In Dolno Dryanovo the Stone heads sanctuary is of great interest. It is a prehistoric sanctuary together with a Thracian sanctuary. There are several stone figurines, for which people thought were a natural phenomenon. However, it appeared that they are human-made.

Follows the village of Kribul. It is famous, in tours Bulgaria, for the Skribina sanctuary. It’s a very interesting place. Lots of people visit the place to get healed. That much I will tell you and will let your imagination play with the information. Let us take you there to find out what Skribina is.

Dospat is not a very big town. Near it there is a beautiful dam. A stop there to relax, to enjoy the view and take some great photos.

For more information please visit www.enmarbg.com.