Dimcho Debelyanov was born on March 28, 1887 in Koprivshtitsa on the night before Palm Sunday. He died tragically on October 2, 1916 on the front of the First World War in present-day Greece. 15 years later, his remains were returned to Koprivshtitsa.
Dimcho Debelyanov was the last, sixth child in the family of Velyo Debelyanov and Tsana Ilieva Staychina. He was named after his grandfather Dincho Debelyan.
In 1896, after the death of his father, they moved to the city of Plovdiv to his eldest brother Ivan. There, Dimcho was enrolled as a student at the "Yellow School". He spent his first years of high school at the "Alexander I" boys' high school, where he wrote his first poems, which he later burned.
In 1904, his family moved to Sofia, renting an apartment at 46 Oborishte Street. In 1906, the first published works of the poet were printed in the magazine "Savremennost": "On the Basin, Which in Silent Nights", "When the Cherries Were Blooming", etc., which were signed with the name DIMCHO DEBELYANOV. He was 19 years old. His idol at that time was Pencho Slaveykov, and a little later Yavorov.
He is a Bulgarian poet, author of lyrical and satirical poems published in various periodicals. Since 1907, Dimcho Debelyanov has collaborated with “Bulgarian Collection“, “Savremennik“, “Nov Pat“, “Osa“.
At the end of October 1912, Dimcho Debelyanov was mobilized in the 22nd Thracian Infantry Regiment in Samokov. At the beginning of World War I, he himself insisted on being sent to the front, although he was not subject to mobilization.
At the end of January 1916, he went as a volunteer to the Macedonian Front. On October 2, 1916, Dimcho Debelyanov was killed near Demir Hisar during the First World War.
Among his most famous works are: “Do you remember, do you remember…“, “I want to remember you still…“ and others.
Your lips spread a raspberry breath
Your lips spread a raspberry breath,
oh, sweet breath of May flowers!
And blessed is he who first plucks
from them the raspberry of love!
Snowdrops cover your cheeks,
sprinkled with brilliant dew...
Ah! What a lucky man will the curls of your hair wrap around at night!...
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