Copse and Robbers
By Turlough
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No Bulgar children, women or men
Can recall the day exactly when
They first strode into forested lands
With an axe on a shoulder or a saw in a hand
And a cart on which there would be drawn
Cut logs to burn to keep them warm
And cook and maybe fill the bath
During a Balkan winter’s icy wrath.
Since time began they’d only fell
The trees they’d need, unless as well
Some toothless Baba, wretched and old,
Or raw boned Dyado paralysed by the cold
Would want a few sticks to keep them alive.
Taking only this, poor people survived
And woodlands regrew to how they’d been
In an annual eruption of verdant green.
Just a small pile of logs was all that was needed
To fire up the petchka but now superseded
By new-fangled machines with instant hot water
Pumped through the big houses to heat every quarter.
But modernity burned such vast mountains of wood
And hills became bare where great forests once stood.
The Ministry men said this had to be stopped
With restrictions in place on what trees could be chopped.
All of a sudden their fuel ceased to be free.
Obtainable by means of a stiff licence fee.
No problem for those who could afford central heating,
But disaster for poor folk shivering and beating
Back the harshness of winter with a meagre supply
Of wood for the stove and a fear they might die.
The control of the logging had left them bereft.
Knowing to keep themselves warm they must turn to theft.
As darkness envelopes a late autumn day
The backwoods’ near silence drowns in an array
Of calls from a fox or a boar or an owl
And sometimes a chainsaw’s menacing growl.
With children at home all with bellies to feed
They only fell the trees that they need.
With no money to buy what once was theirs
The copse has the answer to their wintry prayers.
Note:
I’ve used a few Bulgarian words where the English equivalent just didn’t seem right.
Baba (Баба) = Grandmother, or a general term for an old woman.
Dyado (Дядо) = Grandfather, or a general term for an old man.
Petchka (Печка) = Simple wood burning stove of cast iron construction. These have been the prime source of heating in many Bulgarian households since the day cast iron was invented.
Image:
From my own personal catalogue and showing the forest I see from my kitchen door.
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Comments
This is so interesting, and
This is so interesting, and interestingly written.
I suppose the problem is partly the demand of those living now in cities leading to 'mass production' of fuel source, by mechanically logging a lot at once, rather than the regular small inroads of those living by the woods.
The needs of all need to be attended to by government, and couldn't those who have central heating get it from some other fuel source? Rhiannon
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That title is SO CLEVER :0)
That title is SO CLEVER :0)
I thought this poem was great! You explain the situation in an easy to understand way, with brilliant rhyme (it is a happy thing to find you have posted something) and make your point without blame, so the reader can make up their own mind. From reading I was able to understand local people's point of view but also that of people in cities. Though the longer cities rely on wood (or coal) means the longer can put off sorting out renewables
"I have no objection to them cutting down a few trees illegally but I do object to the big businesses cutting down a lot of trees legally." That's so wrong! I guess government want the lobbying money from logging companies from other countries, too, like Germany claiming forest wood is bio fuel to make themselves look good when it isn't good, at all as trees are the only things actually stopping climate change. When people far away from the eyes of politicians are suffering so much now and will be worse with climate change, should be able at the least to have the right to make life livable with the resources of their own neighbourhood. But how you describe sounds more like starving poachers being hung for catching rabbits on rich landowners woods
Very interesting altogether.
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poor Bulgars, hemmed in by
poor Bulgars, hemmed in by the Great Powers, like the Irish and Scottish islanders with their peat, cut into blocks, winter to meet. Heat was almost free. It seemed to good to be true. Now on the other foot, pressed down on their neck, what can poor people expect?
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I love how you've woven a
I love how you've woven a story into this poem Turlough. The rhythm and rhyme are perfect too. It's a sad story and reminds me of the American native indians who had their land taken away. People with power and loads of money always seem to win through in the end which just isn't fair because they just don't understand the bigger picture.
Trouble is once the damage is done, it's hard to go back and fix.
An eye opener of a poem in deed.
Jenny.
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A topic very close to my
A topic very close to my heart very well elaborated with skilled writing and fine rhyming, highlighting the concern we all feel, Turlough. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Best, Luigi
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This very interesting piece
This very interesting piece is causing quite a stir on ABCTales - that's why it's our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!
Pleaee share/retweet if you enjoyed it too
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This is our Poem of the Week
This is our Poem of the Week - Congratulations!
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Excellent read. And
Excellent read. And congratulations on your pick of the week.
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Super stuff - a great poem
Super stuff - a great poem and you have kept a rhyming rhythm all the way through. Not easy. Congrats on the POTW. Well deserved. Paul
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A good pun
never goes amiss, your title an exemplar :)
In your vignette of rural Bulgarian life, you show a small but significant glimpse of real and perpetual problems of global economic inequality, your chosen subject one that highlights an ideal of climate change strategies whilst those least able to redress wrongs of those with power have little agency other than to subsist. A grim tale, told with warmth.
Best
Lena
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Good sense of rhythm and
Good sense of rhythm and rhyme and very interestingly written about the specific problems of this race of people.
hilary
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Powerful and gutsy! Sadly,
Powerful and gutsy! Sadly, in my part of Canada, it is not uncommon for a rich person to buy a sixty thousand dollar wooden cottage and destroy it simply to get more space to build an extension to their palatial cottage by a lake. Many questions come to mind and only the rich have proper answers.
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