The twentieth century for Ukrainian new literature began with high poetic art. The solar sparks of Pavlo Tychyna erupted, composed the exquisite classic form of Maksym Rylsky, combined the strength and power of Stilsa and Stivius Yevhen Malaniuk, and he was an emotionally responsible world of his poetic laws, Olena Telliga, and was a talented scientific work with The artistic creativity and struggle of Oleh Olzhych, mysteriously pierced in the bowels of the poetic world, Mikhail Semenko, marveled at the work capacity of Valeryan Polischuk, after late, nineteen, flew into the extraterrestrial worlds with his “singing” by Vasyl Chumak. The century promised to be energetically rich – Ukrainian was to become very special prosperity, and the world its unfathomable soul, vyhotite on the millennial Winds of History, sung by Kupalym songs, Vičaklovanu Christmas and Easter Updating.
Ukraine has to bring the world joy of the great spiritual fly. The forerunner of this oblivion was Pavlo Tychyna – the cosmic laws of existence with the full extent reflected in his poetic world. To know the sunny cigarettes of World Harmony – to understand the beauty of the world and to promote the penetration of this harmony into the human world. These aesthetic laws of existence of creativity are reflected in his poetry, where the role of subconscious meets the high essence of creativity as a divine event. “Not Zeus, not the Lord, not the dove-Spirit – Only sunny cigarettes.”
At the dawn of that time, no one knew what test would go to our people – as if the Ukrainian land and Ukrainian literature appeared before the Satanic Test.
Why is our literature experienced such devastating influence of Satanic power, and our people are so martyred? The founders of the spiritual World became the first under the Satanic Force. They were exterminated, shot, cut their souls, deprived elementary rights to creativity as the self-expression of personality. The Apocalypse of Time, which is genius stipulated by Lesia Ukrainka in “Lisova Pisnya” – TWAIN is not simply artistic, but philosophical, which simply involves the bloody course of the twentieth century on the Ukrainian land. And how much had to wait for time, until the place of the burnt house, in the snow, new sprouts grow.
Bogdan-Igor Antonych in poetic space is the closest to the work of Pavlo Tychyna. The same explosive emotionality, such mysticism of foresight, sun-shine joy and grandeur of the great ecumenical joy. And even in the personal nature of the same affinity – the fullness of music, perfect possession of several musical instruments, high intellectuals. Both are coming out of the high-spiritual Ukrainian priestly families. Pavlo Tychyna’s Rod is from the famous Polubotka dynasty.
Even in the intimate life of these writers, there was something common – finding a high feminine ideal, striving to find it and some sudden fear of a particular woman. The lone did not leave the heirs, although Antonich lived short, as a flash, twenty-eight years of life, and Pavlo Grigorovich is long and measured as a wave of a wide river. Even glasses on the nose in the youth sat somehow equally – as if two butterflies. Melodies of life and melodies of their creativity are intertwined.
Children (and therefore such candor and sincere) confession of life is reflected in poetic thinking, where you see yourself as a separate substance of the great world. “Grows Antonich and grows grass…” So only a child sees himself next to the grass, a rock, a tree. And it may, however, be a creates of this world, when he is a brother of the spirit, the spirit of a stone of eternal revolt – the rebellion which carries atonement.
And always present a world of tales, where “Scarlet and maple Silver”, where “pour the day to the valley, as fresh milk to the bowls”, and “cows pray to the sun, that the flame rises to the poppy” and “thin poplar thinner and thinner, as the tree became a bird”… These poetic reminiscences of Bogdan-Igor Antonich are filled with eternal light and divine radiance of being. So much nutritious joy in the ethical collections of “Life Greetings” (1931), “Three Feathered” (1934), “Book Of Lion” (1936), “Green Gospel” (1938), “Rotations” (1938), “Great harmony”. The last poetic book has already appeared on the death of the poet.
Nikolai Il’nytsky, one of the first literary critics, who appealed to the poetic heritage of Bogdan-Igor Antonych and wrote about him a book, characterised by the creative world of the writer, stressed: “Rapid, full of internal tension, development The talent of the poet, who passed to the praise of the “green Gospel of Nature, to” the destruction of matter. ” Dmitry Pavlychko in the period of Khrushchev’s thaw blessed in the way of life the poetic Book of Bogdan-Igor Antonych with his preface.
I searched the tomb of the poet at Yaniv Cemetery in Lviv, a couple of games and Irina Kalinyntsi. The author of the Tombstone Monument became an outstanding artist, Teodozia Bryzh. She is the author of the monument on the tomb of Iryna Vilde, at the Lychakiv Cemetery in Lviv. Now the monument is destroyed – a squally cross, which rises on the stone breezes.
… That July day, a few people passed on the agreed young man. Who loved life and art, the beauty of art was in life, and the beauty of life played in Word and music. He lived a young man in his aunt. Surgery on appendicitis was already at home, healed, and was cold. And God took him into his embrace, in extraterrestrial worlds. He seemed to have preceded his demise because he wrote about the way. Which leads for heaven and by which he will have to fly. High Estate poetic word. Sometimes it is thought that the fate took him in his bloom to protect his soul from the Bolshevik Madness, which was already approached by the predatory birds of the bird.
This Bogdan-Igor Antonych has painted himself in a stunning metaphorical image. “was crispy and lived once on the cherries, on the cherries of those who glorified Shevchenko”, declaring allegiance to the high aesthetics of the Shevchenko word. He includes poetic self-characteristics: “I’m all drunk with the sun in my pocket.” “I am in love with the life of the Gentiles.” “I am a sleepy life sold for a hundred of nuns madness, captured by Pagans always the poet Spring hangover.” The writer created the Green Gospel of the high spirit of Ukraine.
The tomb of Bogdan-Igor Antonych is very close to the graves of Sichovyh riflemen – they were spiritual counterparts.
Every year, on the birthday of the poet, 5 October, and on the days of his departure in Distant Worlds, on 6 July, near the tomb of the writer gather people to honor the memory of a great poet.
… This year – the seventies anniversary of his departure to eternity. Rain poured like a bucket. Under the slopes of the umbrellas – writers Roman Lubkivsky, Ihor Kalinets, Mariya Yakubovska, Yaroslav Kametskiy, artists Lesia and Yevhen Beznitky, photo artist Vasyl Pylypiuk, director of the “Kamenyar” publishing house Dmytro Sapaga, educator-scientist Myroslava Zvarych, “Lemkivschyna” choir (head – Maria) and others. The service sends the abbot of the Church of St. Josaphat father, Peter.
It is under the thick inguinal rain – as if under the all-clean fire. Pray for the soul of the poet and the high unity of Ukraine on the territory of all-human ways.
In folk terms, sprinkled with heavenly grace, are beautiful girls-chorists-brought in his song to his tomb of the breath of native Lemkivshchyna. Fall through the rose blossom words of revelations. The community is charmed, elevated to one high spirit. We know that the soul of Antonich is over us with wings of a Heavenly angel, exceeding our hearts.
(to 70 anniversary of poet’s death) to Bogdan-Igor Antonychu-70 years from the day of death
Do not burn, will, Lord, fire
Slaves of the dumb that the freaks were corrected.
And you are not angry, clean, for fire,
The fire is prophetic shine our wings.
Antonych on the righteous wing
The same as “one hundred Nuns of insanity.”
And pray, by the Almighty on Earth,
On that land the spring hangover.
Coming off purely honey and Zeit,
Praying to the sun by the Zoryam.
A cerknus Antonich we all wing,
And the warmth of him will be between the stars.
You, Lord, all bless.
The best in your lady Ramena,
To dull the glare of grass,
To pray to the zorpits.