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320 years ago, Antioch Dmitrievich Kantemir was born, one of those from whom Russian fine literature, especially poetry, “came”

Text: Arseny Zamostyanov, deputy. editor-in-chief of the magazine "Historian"
Photo: ru.wikipedia.org
Literary historians interpret the beginning of the 18th century, the first steps of Russian secular poetry, in different ways. But in any serious anthology there is a place for Kantemir as one of the founders of our poetry and the first Russian satirist who ridiculed vices through tears: “I laugh in poetry, but in my heart I cry for the evil ones.”

His father, the famous Moldavian ruler, was an important ally and received a princely title from the Russian emperor. The tsar even intended to marry the poet’s sister... And Antioch Dmitrievich was a prominent politician from a young age. He played a diplomatic game and participated in the struggle for power. His calling was different - poetry and enlightenment, but in those days all this often merged together. His best works - satires - were not published during the author's lifetime, despite his wealth and influence. These things were too sharp. But they were on the lists, and had a strong influence on literary life. None of the Russian poets of the 18th century passed by Cantemir’s satires. They thought he was Russian Juvenal And Boileau. Exaggerated? Maybe. But there is no doubt that Kantemir was the first Russian satirist, and also one of the first poets. He trampled his way off-road. The poet lived only 35 years. He died in Paris, being the Russian envoy to France. Cantemir was considered a respected and talented writer, but universal recognition came to his poems after his death.

On this day, it’s time to remember the seven most striking works of Antioch Cantemir in different genres and types of literature.

1. ON THOSE WHO blaspheme the doctrine

This is Cantemir's first satire. And perhaps the most famous. And deservedly so. The schoolchildren probably winced at the severity of the ancient poet, but they memorized many of the lines on the spot. He wrote it in 1729, during the reign of the young Peter the Second, when it seemed that the undertakings of the first Russian emperor were in danger of oblivion. Kantemir, first of all, was concerned about the attitude towards enlightenment, towards education. He saw that many in church circles were hostile to European trends. For them, any teaching is almost a rebellion against comfortable traditions. The still very young Cantemir climbed into the pulpit and began preaching on the glory of the Enlightenment. That's right, with a capital letter. He spared no arguments to prove how useful teaching is and how meaningless and shameful the life of the ignorant is. At the same time, he did not spare big words and spectacular examples and demonstrated a masterly command of the “low” style. I think the beginning of this satire, addressed “To Your Mind,” is remembered by many:

The mind is immature, the fruit of short-lived science!
Rest in peace, do not force my hands to write:
Spend the flying days of the century without writing
It is possible to achieve fame, even if you are not considered a creator.

If you imagine the then attitude towards the publicly spoken word, towards church foundations, the courage of Cantemir, who believed that satire should be fearless when it comes to civil convictions, becomes more obvious.

1. TO THE ENVY AND PRIDE OF THE Evil Nobles

The author himself explained the pathos of this - the second in a row - satire: “To their last question, who made me a judge, I answer: that everything that I write, I write as a citizen, discouraging everything that could be harmful to my fellow citizens " This satire is constructed in the form of a dialogue; it could be staged with some success. The severity of the conflict is in relation to ancestral merits. Cantemir, being an undisputed aristocrat, like Peter the Great, preferred earned fame. Those for whom high birth was the main shrine were unlikely to like his satire. Cantemir spoke boldly about the equality of people, citing biblical examples:

Adam did not give birth to nobles, but one child from two
His garden was digging, another was tending a bleating flock;
Noah in the ark with him saved all his equals
Simple farmers with only glorious morals;
We all completely left them, one earlier
Leaving the pipe, the plow, the other one later.

In a word, the poet aimed aimed fire at prejudices that were so strong in the 18th century. If you think about it, they have not disappeared in our time. Unless they changed their clothes.

1. TALK ABOUT MANY WORLDS

This is not an original work, “just” a translation from Fontenelle, but for Russian readers it became a real literary event and an educational breakthrough. Under the pious Empress Elizabeth Petrovna, the book was banned as “against faith and morality.” Kantemir really did not like it when everything was taken for granted, and sought to question established ideas about the world. In those days there were few such seekers in Russia. But Kantemir found followers. And he looked for “all-good wisdom” in the world, regardless of stereotypes.

1. LETTER OF KHARITON MACKENTIN TO A FRIEND ABOUT COMPOSING RUSSIAN POEMS

Cantemir was a “partisan” of syllabic verse. He devotedly fell in love with him in his youth - and the growing reformer of Russian verse, Trediakovsky, could not shake Kantemir’s tastes. This affection is surprising - especially considering that the poet himself was a preacher of progress and castigated those who stubbornly cling to the old. But there is no poetry without contradictions.

In the "Letter of Chariton Mackentin" he outlined his views on versification under the guise of a fictional hero. This poetry treatise was published along with Kantemirov's translations from Horace.

The treatise is written in an entertaining way and is easy to read even today. It contains the key to all of Cantemir’s poems, to his understanding of poetry. Cantemir did not accept the idea of ​​​​the need to build verse based on the correct alternation of feet, and did not accept the “syllabo-tonic”. "Stop reasoning is not necessary"- snapped the author of “Satyr”, who considered only free syllabic flexible and expressive.

He discussed poetry with fervor and with numerous examples. It is believed that for Cantemir poetry was only a tool of education and propaganda. But “Khariton’s Letter...” shows how important the aesthetic, artistic side of creativity was for him.

It is obvious that Kantemir seriously thought about all the nuances of poetry, compared the Russian literary language with European ones, and understood a lot in his own way. I thought about the orchestration of the verse, about the rhyme. He offered his own witty terminology - for example, this: “Therefore, rhymes can be one-syllable, two-syllable or three-syllable. The first are called dull, the second are called simple, and the third are called slippery.” Kantemir reasoned: “I don’t see why the transfer of speech from the first verse to another, the next, when one cannot complete the whole understanding of speech, would be prohibited. The Greeks, Latins, Italians, Spaniards, and English not only do not consider it a vice, but also honor the decoration of poetry.”. In his satires he often flaunted such transfers.

Cantemir lost in this dispute. But the attempt was almost brilliant!

1. AT ESOPA

Cantemir also wrote fables. This crafty, but at the same time preaching genre suited him. He was one of the first to discover Aesop for Russian readers. We remember Cantemir from his lengthy, wordy satires. But the flexibility of verse is tested primarily in laconic works. And Cantemir created epigrams, inscriptions - and this is Aesop’s monologue:

Although unattractive in body, but clever in mind,
What is missing from the face is too much inside.
Hunchbacked, pot-bellied, lisping, legs like hooks, -
It’s disgusting to look at me, but there’s no boredom in listening...
This is the first such impressive portrait of the legendary fabulist in Russian poetry.

1. AUTHOR ABOUT HIMSELF

It is not easy to find a lyrical beginning in Kantemir’s poems, although there are sparkles of it in Kantemir’s most famous “full-length” satires. He boldly and sometimes furiously expressed his ideas, but, as a rule, he avoided confessional notes and did not sketch self-portraits. Interesting exceptions to the rule were his peculiar epigrams on himself. They are aphoristic. Suffice it to recall this passage:

What Horace gave, he borrowed from the Frenchman.
Oh, how poor my muse is!
Yes it is true; Though the limits of the mind are narrow,
What he took in Gallic, he paid in Russian.
But a bitterness that is rare for Cantemir also breaks through:
Even if I write in Russian, I am not Russian;
Nature did not give me the gift of being born into a vile person.
My life was full of toil and troubles,
Looking for something better, the good that was in his hands floated away.
Father and mother's cellar in the summer of adolescence,
Although he may not be the father, he is a poor inhabitant of the world.

This is a real self-portrait! This is exactly how his fate turned out - the early death of his parents, a series of losses, and misunderstanding of his contemporaries... And this is lyrics, a confession, not a sermon.

1. PETRIDE

The full title of this work is “Petrida, or a poetic description of the death of Peter the Great, Emperor of All Russia.”

In a long anthology of Russian poems and works of the rhetorical genre dedicated to Peter the Great, Cantemir’s “Petrida” stands next to the works of Feofan Prokopovich, and precedes thunder and lightning. The result was something too archaic - after all, the syllabus was not suitable for such a solemn topic:

I weep inconsolable sadness for Russia:
Having first given guilt to laughter, I encourage tears;
I cry the death excessively among the Roxolian people,
You have already introduced the death of Peter as the first in the royal family.

But Cantemir's plan is impressive. He dreamed of writing a poem about Peter. Its first part, which we are talking about, was supposed to be resolved by the recovery of the king. In other chapters, Cantemir intended to win the glory of the Russian Homer, narrating in an exalted spirit about the achievements of the great emperor. But the plans turned out to be too much. Kantemir still remained a satirist “primarily.” But I had no luck with the Peter the Great theme of the 18th century. The poem remained unfinished. The genre of the epic poem was not given.

Cantemir - and he was not only a satirist - also wrote an ode in honor of Peter the Great. It didn't survive. What remains of “Petrida” is an approach to the topic, a sketch vaguely reminiscent of Feofan Prokopovich’s speech on the death of Peter.

This is how Antioch Cantemir remained in history - a young, unusually gifted poet and educator, diplomat and scientist, the youngest of the “chicks of Petrov’s nest.” He had to act during the time of the successors of our first emperor. He idealized Peter and worshiped him. This made it possible to maintain posture and not lose faith in the Enlightenment. That's how he will remain - unconvinced.

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A mind of cold observations / And a heart of sorrowful observations

From the dedication preceding the novel in verse “Eugene Onegin” (1823-1831) A. S. Pushkin ( 1799-1837).

The mind is immature, the fruit of short-lived science!

From the beginning of the first satire “On those who blaspheme the teachings. To your mind" (1729) by the Russian poet Antioch Dmitrievich Kantemir(1708-1744), which before its first publication (1762) circulated only in lists:

The mind is immature, the fruit of short-lived science!

Rest in peace, do not force my hands to write...

The great Pan has died!

From a legend outlined by an ancient Greek historian Plutarch(c. 45-127) in his work “On the Decline of Oracles” (chapter 17). Once during the reign of Emperor Tiberius, a ship with cargo and people was sailing from the Peloponnese (Greece) to Italy. As he passed by the island of Paxos, someone from the shore called out to the Egyptian Farmuz, the helmsman of the ship. He responded, and an unknown voice told him that when the ship passed another island, Palodes, he should announce there that “the great Pan had died.” The helmsman did so, and from the direction of Palodes he immediately heard crying and wailing.

According to ancient Greek mythology, Pan was a god, the patron of herds and shepherds, and later was considered a deity who protected all nature. Therefore, when the incident was reported to Rome, Emperor Tiberius and the whole city were in great confusion. Tiberius, according to Plutarch, gathered a council of learned men to explain to him what this means and what could follow from here. They said that Pan, being the son of the god Hermes and the mortal woman Penelope, cannot have the immortality of the gods, therefore his death is not a violation of the order of things and no catastrophes should be expected.

Later, Christian historians began to see special symbolism in this episode. Since it was during the era of Tiberius that Christianity began to supplant paganism in Rome, the exclamation that announced the death of the pagan god began to be interpreted as the defeat of a false faith and the affirmation of a true faith. It was in this vein that Francois Rabelais conveyed this legend in his novel “Gargantua and Pantagruel” and thereby greatly contributed to the popularization of this legend.

Subsequently, some ancient historians began to believe that this exclamation, which sounded like “Famuz ho panmegas tefneke,” was simply misinterpreted. “Famuz” in this case is the Syriac name for the god Adonis, “panmegas” means “greatest,” and the exclamation and lamentation itself are only rituals, components of his cult. The coincidental similarity between the names of the god and the helmsman became the cause of the misunderstanding.

Allegorically: the end of one historical era and the beginning of another. Thus, the German poet Heinrich Heine, having learned about the July Revolution of 1830 in France, exclaimed: “The great pagan Pan is dead!”, referring to the collapsed power of the Bourbons.

Moderation is the best feast

Last line from the poem “Invitation to Dinner” (May, 1795) Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin(1743-1816):

Please listen to my point:

Bliss is not in the purple rays,

Not in the taste of food, not in the bliss of hearing;

But in health and peace of mind, -

Moderation is the best feast.

Moderation and accuracy

From the comedy “Woe from Wit” (1824) L. S. Griboyedova(1795-1829). The words of Molchalin, who describes the main advantages of his character in this way (act. 3, appearance 3).

To die is to fall asleep

From the tragedy "Hamlet" William Shakespeare(1564-1616). Hamlet's monologue (act 3, scene 1) translated into prose (1837) by a writer, journalist, historian and critic Nikolai Alekseevich Polevoy(1796-1846).

Killing the living to honor the dead

From the 6th satire of the French poet and critic, author of the famous work “Poetic Art” Nicola Boileau(1636-1711).

The meaning of the expression: often bright, extraordinary people are not loved during their lifetime, they are persecuted (and sometimes this persecution becomes the cause of their death), but then, when such people die, everyone recognizes their greatness, erects monuments to them, writes books, refers to their authority etc.

Analogue phrase We only know how to love the dead.

Dying Swan

The title of a choreographic miniature set to music from the orchestral fantasy “Carnival of the Animals” by the French composer Camille Saint-Saëns. This miniature was first choreographed for the great Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova in 1907 by choreographer Mikhail Fokin, who called the dance “The Swan.” And starting from 1913, the now widely known, now classic name “The Dying Swan” began to appear on theater posters. Its author is unknown.

Victor Matyuk

The fruit of short-lived science

The bastards have worn out, the bitches have worn out, their shameless hands have been stained with blood,
They took everything, there was nothing left, but they still want to take the last thing -
The fruit of short-lived science! It's hard to resist the demoniac crowd,
I remembered my father and mother, I had to shed a tear on the ground,
But what I came to thanks to my talent and intelligence will not happen!
I will never repent! Let me be thrown into the wolf's pit forever,
Still, the trembling hand is chained to the pen for centuries, neither wind nor blizzard
The envious clouds that have gathered overhead will not disperse! Let people be angry
Will fill the thoughts missing from my letter, their bright fringe fell on the houses!
There is pitch darkness all around, local people in the narrow alleys say unflattering words,
They swear, as befits sergeants and soldiers! Thoughts are strict
They stumble over their barely dragging legs, but they crawl both north and south!
They are drawn to the comfort of home, they shake their heads before going into battle!
Let the heavens open our eyes to the truth and inflate its sails, weighing all the pros and cons,
I understand that a torrential thunderstorm is needed, I found a scythe on a stone, a flame is struck,
I’m spinning around like a fidget, turning my eyes away in shame, and the morning dew has fallen on my star!
Even holy images cry, one cannot sin, but the scoundrel does not care about the beauty of the syllable,
He thinks meagerly and wretchedly, he has one road, but God has a lot of them! Need to sweat
To endure many troubles so that all the local society gathers for breakfast and lunch,
None of them are nearby, a drunken neighbor is chopping wood! He does not shy away from sin,
Although clouds are gathering over his head! This is where all troubles begin,
Past betrayals are not forgotten, thoughts from the quarry are rushed into a gallop! They curse life
In their hands are the reins and the whip! Here and there it’s the same absolute horror,
The outer shell is about to burst, revealing the perineum and thick belly,
A small phallus or what is left of it will appear! It's all because of old age!
Since this happened, a couple of obscene phrases rushed headlong from the lips,
The soul has become ten years younger, has it ever been heard of, a maiden in a white dress
She undressed so brazenly and boldly that the feeling immediately cooled, my mouth went numb,
Everything went to hell! The body screams frantically that it is tired of fighting with its soul!
I'm staring at the book, a dragonfly is buzzing nearby, but no one will add a sheep
To our herd! There is no joy in the soul, well, there is no need, we would like one woman for two,
And then dive down to make it easier to survive a hypertensive crisis! The wind has died down
But it resumed after a short moment, looking for protection among the windy retinue! Don't come in
The boat was broken, I sensed my weakness in time, but thought in vain,
That I won’t lose outright! So I’m having a lot of fun, I’m ready to love any woman,
There is nothing more beautiful than our woman, who sows and plows and tells you a bedtime story!
Did I say something wrong? I’m not a fool, but the woman is wearing bright varnish,
But she does not agree to become a whore for one night and help the poor with alms!
Let him spin on one heel somewhere in the distance, but I want to hold the bird of happiness in my hand!
Women condemn her for her beauty, men praise her, dogs bark, and the caravan moves on,
Not only back, but also forward! The common people yearn for freedom! His sins are innumerable!
The woman lies that passion gets in the way of her path, I immediately remembered a famous joke,
Where people are engaged in verbiage, they are ready to live righteously, but they have no one to idolize!
The reproductive organ stands like a log and hums like a rocket at the start,
The thought returns from the other world, she is dressed in a white dress and there are no sins nearby!
Fate grumbles and sighs, she gradually remembers all her sins,
But she dotes on the woman who was once someone else’s wife! Today I returned home!
Don’t be lazy, dear, work with me at night! Wait a minute! Do not rush! Think about it
What is it like to walk with a heavy thought at the ready, having to make your way among a crowd of hangers,
You should have pumped up your abs in advance! The holy soul asks with bitter tears,
May peace and friendship reign between us! People exchange words
And then they butt heads, litigation is just around the corner! They thought about it
And they began to hit the ground with their feet, tired after the journey, they walked and hurt their feet,
Seeking the truth, the saints, and the saints dragged the images along with them!
It happened in the spring! The people were quiet and submissive,
They saved their agility for a black day, their thoughts are agile
Ready to fight the evil spirits! Turn around! Smile, now step aside!
Take a walk! You're no good! Japanese mother, you should have said these words to the woman’s face,
And then hug! The bed creaks in the corner, she was the first to start the love game,
Perhaps it will run out by morning, there is an empty bottle of homemade wine on the table!
We didn’t recognize the truth until we started reading the Bible at night!
Hunger brings us learning, because the atheists dance in circles and do not look forward!
The forbidden fruit is sweet, who among the sinners is not enamored of it? Decline of morality everywhere
We ourselves have missed very small details of our existence, why am I suffering?
Women and men want to know the reason why we don't know anything about Latin?
We are drawn to smoked meat, then we want kvass, we have lagged behind Europe, we are hungry for bread,
But they lost their spirituality! My speech is weak, I haven’t drunk anything since the morning, let the crowd
She doesn't think she's screwed! Not from a great mind, I had to twist my thoughts and words!
I serve my duty according to my rank, but as a citizen, mediocrities are giving me a hard time
And they sit in the dock, driven by the wind, but implacable in their decisions!
What has the ruling clan achieved? His plan is suspended in the air and will disappear into oblivion in a moment!
Hurry up! Lives are at stake! Early in the morning I’ll take the trump card out of my pocket!
I am not given the opportunity to confirm or deny that the woman I love is an ****!
Will she be able to understand me at that moment or will she begin to blame me?
Why look for enemies on the side in vain? They are nearby, and we must exterminate these reptiles!
They are carriers of other people's shells! The fruit of short-lived science is visited by the last attempts,
He makes terrible sounds, but washes his own hands, he is happy and glad,
What can return back without obstacles, there is a capital city, and here is a prison
And the houses are dilapidated! How not to go crazy? I follow in the footsteps of Saint Peter,
Winter is about to come and drive holiness out of the yard, and we can’t live without it!
Steam comes out of all the nostrils, they cut off our oxygen and now the dealer blames himself,
But love doesn’t think about money! Holy shit! Mother Earth is disappearing from under our feet!
Aren’t you ashamed to indulge the cattle in everything, is it really enviable? Obviously so
This is a clear fact! We buy prostitutes for rubles, oh my money!
We could bow to the ground to our wives! Sorry! Brains are hard to change!
Yo - mine! No one takes these huge plans seriously! Holding my will in check,
I barely crawl further, and suddenly I cross the border strip, talking cynically about that
A long time ago when our social system was different! Throwing into the wind,
An ocean of passions, like a sheaf of ears of grain, I was left with nothing, then why was it necessary?
Tear pain and joy away from your soul! The spoken words and tirades hung in the air,
And the persistent smell of women's perfume and lipstick refreshes women's outfits, but the barriers are small
And they peek out from behind the fortress wall, I spread my arms and wiggle my brains,
Mental wounds hurt, despite the coolness! The hut is famous for its pies,
And the woman has slender legs, the man has a mustache and muscular body,
But his soul is locked in a barn! I chatter my teeth, wiggle my ears,
But a thundercloud is hovering above us, and is giving the crowd of bullies fabulous gifts!
For many years now the people have been waiting for their happiness, even if they take it and file for divorce with fate,
There is a lot to do, every man works like a mole, and lives with what God gives him!
Whatever the Lord provides will calm hunger and passion! God will not let you fall below the plinth
And the sinner will perish alive! His power is unlimited, we will talk about this separately!
If passions burst into sinful flesh, they will immediately choke on sperm!
I am writing about this seriously, and if some watchdog wants to object to me,
Then you can’t do without mutual reproaches and threats, a lot of tears will be shed,
And perennial manure compacted by time will immediately float to the top!
A pure lie is like a double-edged knife in the heart, its price is a copper penny
On a market day, a shifting shadow on a beautiful day can knock a man off his knees,
If he is too lazy to work! Then why cast a shadow on an old and rickety fence?
I don’t care: where, who, and with whom, but why? This question makes you think seriously
About the fact that the pattern of life is like an avalanche from the mountains, there is melancholy and shame
They don't see anyone point-blank! Don't wash your dirty laundry in public, stay a two-minute walk away
From the omnipresent struggle, if you are not created for the midnight struggle and are weak in spirit and weak,
It’s better to borrow the power and strength from a village woman so that the scale of sin
They weren't that big! If a man is an asshole and doesn’t react in any way, even to naked women,
Then he will sell himself for a nickel, he will be finished, because he is a scoundrel and a scoundrel!
Although he is a complete scoundrel, he is not from Hollywood, he believes in miracles,
But where should it come from, since everything around is so dark? We are waiting for freedom
But the steel will and greatness of the people are all in the crayfish of the Lord - God,
We suffer from food shortages and harsh and snowy weather,
Years of existence pass, but life is the same, peeking out from behind a roadside bush,
She is naive and empty, like a wall picture made of cheap canvas!
I apologize for the unliterary expressions, they are not the stumbling block
On our way, we would slowly reach the great goal and at the same time not lose our way!
I will crawl to bring the truth down to earth,
I'll eat last year's canned food, but I'll try to save my nerves,
Although this is not forty-one, the common people are living wildly!
He wants to join the European Union and NATO, the question arises: is it too early?
We are immigrants from the USSR and this is a bad example for us!
The venerable sir gave us a huge dick for a long time, but we don’t care: is it funny,
Or is it time to hide your head under a wool blanket?
Let someone else follow the story? I'm ashamed and painfully offended,
That there is no clear light in earthly life! I don’t lose heart, because in a sacred matter
We need to understand everything thoroughly, you can’t go ahead and break the wall with your forehead!
Before my eyes is a quiet backwater, in an empty place stands the old parental house,
Life still glimmers in him! We do not give comments on this matter!
You can’t understand the Slavic soul with your mind, you have to stand apart from all countries
And drop your tears quietly and modestly on the ground! I will not give up an inch of my native land,
All its roads and paths are in hot blood, country, see and refresh your brains!
Ignorants in power, they have long-awaited happiness, but we don’t have it,
Everything has its time, everything has its hour! Vigorous mother! I refuse to understand
After all, every mother tried to raise us the same way! Fate gives us a homeland,
We have only one, there is decay and vanity around her, but she shouts from the kontadka that our goal is clear!
Stop looking down on the whole world! All the quirks of the Slavic conscience
It cannot be described in a short story! So what's the news?! The tooth broke in the oral cavity!
Worthy people excite the crowd again and again, offering them a renewal, but why bother?
If the essence is important, where is it? There is a river ahead and it has muslin banks, in the middle there are islands,
And on the sides there are water meadows, here our secret dream once lived,
She's built a nest for herself here! The joy in sight is easy, someone cuckolded her,
One foot is here, and the other is there, there is nothing left for us to do,
How to go for alms to someone else's temple! Brothers, let's go home!
There's nothing for us simple boys to do here! There is melancholy in my soul, haystacks are visible in the distance,
They are about to be swept away by blizzards and snow, and then what? The same crap will remain,
What was created back in the time of Beethoven! She was chained for two centuries,
It’s hard to predict her fate, we can’t understand our homeland in our hearts,
You have to whistle up to the lads and fill your beer mug to the brim!
The scope of the plan is amazing, but thoughts grow, here and there, someone plants them on us,
But he doesn't respect the crowd! I hear the grass growing, the river banks talking
And the fallen leaves whisper quietly on the Intercession! In the old days this country
I lived according to my traditions, now other times have entered our heads,
It’s hard to look up, where gods and demons clashed in battle! Shoot!
Don't sit on someone else's chair! Step aside! He ruled us all our lives
A promising bald tractor driver, now an adventurer rules!
Well, what kind of life is this?! She shouts: “Hold on with all your strength, this makes sense!
Don't marry young, don't rush! Love must be earned, it circles around
And it never stands in one place! It’s better to forget about past sins,
Why live close to them? Take them away from their relatives!
They merged together and grabbed the slippery cornice with both hands,
Surround yourself with worries and never be angry with your mistresses!
Look, they are really good, in this regard, you should be friends with them!
These are well-known types, no one is immune from defeat
During love and sexual intercourse! It’s all up to the will!”
I open my eyes in amazement in the middle of a cold and dank night,
To see with your own eyes the dashes and dots after the foggy mirages
And the confessions are far from ideal, so lengthy that sometimes your head is spinning!
Heresy gives no rest, because not every woman falls for a deliberate lie!
He gives it to someone if he is lucky, and to someone he will answer loudly - “No!”
Well, okay bye, comrades and gentlemen! Storm clouds hovered overhead, it looked like a trumpet!
The soul was stunned, half the job was done, she would like to have a smoke break, but it’s hard to live among stunned people,
I don’t even condemn them in vain, I frantically yearn for the old times, I cut off my passion,
I lied a little to the woman, but it didn’t make it any better than it was! The men's pedestal is free!
I walk without a bridle, a woman lies naked two minutes away, the house is not nice to her without a man!
Cold outside the window and sadness without a drunk man!
He went fishing and didn’t give the woman a stick!
Now I will torment and torment myself that the hot bed is cooling down!
You can talk about philosophy in the boudoir with a beautiful woman for a couple,
I would have given in a couple, if not for the wooden bunks! The bathhouse failed
Vanka hit his face in the dirt, but the hen laid eggs, gave him an egg that was not simple, but golden!
There are two of us and there is no one else, we have retired incognito, silence is golden,
But the penis knocks like a chisel on a birch log, things didn’t go any further!
What is the punishment for? Words of recognition sound again,
But they cause indignation among women! I flatter myself with hope,
That I won’t die before I give everyone pleasure,
Who believes me! Their portraits hang on the shabby wall,
It’s awkward for me to amuse my heart with the thought of sad pepper!
I inherited it from my great-grandfathers! Poor childhood and stormy youth
Fuck me, I'm not happy, what a disgusting thing this sex is, I wrote a short text
And he rose again, interest in women appeared, even the all-powerful Zeus loved the grotesque,
But I have an inhibited reflex to those
Who commits a sin in the circle of slobs and rakes!
We don’t fully know all our advantages, we harness for a long time, but we drive fast,
Conscience must be clear, otherwise there is no point in **** bowing low
And instead of a penis, wave a small stub! You can't achieve love without some risk,
Whatever you say, there is something demonic in a woman’s breast! Hope and wait!
Passion tears apart the flesh piece by piece and sends conscience to hell!
I’m as stubborn as an earthworm, I tell my friends,
That I myself will build a golden-domed temple in the spring, outlining its contours, looking for the center and its edges,
I have a family, I keep loyalty to it, I never tire of repeating,
That until my death I will seek the truth, but will I find it?
Nobody knows this! That's it! Everything passes, this too will pass!
Spring gives way to summer, my conscience is touched! Questions remain unanswered!
Women, strict in girls, slowly spread their lush buttocks,
There is something to strive for and something to be proud of! Their mother won't hold their hands
Hold on with your last strength! Grace flickers in the distance! It's time to turn up the heat
Into the fire of love! We could die of melancholy without him, passion glimmers inside,
God, bless us against sin and don’t let us drown in lies! I don’t want to turn away from my path!
Even rich people wear patched clothes, once local degenerates
They spoke in catchphrases, but the long-haired men avoided God's crucifixion!
Someone didn’t get enough sleep and sent his boring life to three letters,
It is difficult to get involved in Slavic life when the reproductive organ is standing
And he shouts to the whole neighborhood that in a moment he will be killed on the spot! He mumbled these words,
And then he fell dead to his knees in front of the images! No one counted his sins!
He lacks sleep, he is always open for communication! His nerves are weak
The women are to blame for this! They are weak at the front, that’s why they are women,
To overcome ruts and potholes at a gallop like a rider!
As time goes by, the younger generation gets wiser,
It forgets Stalin and Lenin, decides where evil came from to walk on this earth?
Is it not for me to judge which of us should live righteously?
Evil fate may throw us to a distant foreign land,
And tame pride in one moment! Cold in winter, not very hot in spring,
But the girls are nearby and pierce your heart with a passionate gaze!
If they were gone, the desire to love would instantly disappear!
Are they really that hot in bed? The light of passion barely discernible,
Like the call of elusive love, it rushes past, it uproots hope,
But from the sinful soul a bright flame rushes down! Someone whistles, and someone is silent,
But suddenly an animal roar is heard, it hangs in the air and life loses all meaning!
Stop! Look around, but don’t fuss around the client, share the dividends with him!
At such moments, ardent compliments are uttered, and those who live in Kyiv and Moscow
They only believe in themselves! Ordinary people live in poverty, that is, so-so! Whatever the decree,
Either in the eyebrow or in the eye! Not life, but raspberries for any master, but what is it like for slaves?
They are not even allowed into an Orthodox church, although everyone is equal before God,
But only those who have never lived in poverty go there! You're wearing something, oh my God!
The people throw stones at their masters and do not take their intentions seriously!
Don't fuss, otherwise life will lose all meaning! Wake up, people!
Let the priest give a holy speech on the Maidan, a flood is on the way!
It's better to tell the truth than the other way around!
The Lord will help us if He wants! Don't move under your feet,
In a word, shut up once and for all! Not only our thoughts are dark, but also the villages and cities,
Trouble, the same trouble everywhere! Not without a little work will the guiding star shine again!
Our people are rude, but they stand on their own like a hundred-year-old oak, let the heavenly thunder strike
And lightning will pierce the earth with fire! The law is the same for everyone
And sin has to be cut to pieces! Our thoughts and hands are our support and guarantee!

TO YOUR MIND

The mind is immature, the fruit of short-lived science!
Rest in peace, do not force my hands to write:
Spend the flying days of the century without writing
It is possible to achieve fame, even if you are not considered a creator.
There are many easy paths leading to it in our age,
On which the brave will not stumble;
The most unpleasant thing of all is the one that the bosses cursed
Nine sisters. Many have lost their strength on it,
Didn't arrive; you need to sweat and languish on it,
And in those works everyone is as alien to you as a pestilence,
Laughs, abhors. Who bends over the table,
Staring at a book won't get you anywhere
No chambers, no marmora-colored garden;
He will not add a sheep to his father's flock.

True, there is hope in our young monarch
Quite a few muses rise; shamefully ignorant
Runs him. Apolline of glory in it protection
I felt no weakness, honoring my retinue
I saw him himself, and in everything abundantly
He strives hard to multiply the inhabitants of Parnassus.
But the trouble is: many in the king praise
Fear is something that is impudently condemned in a subject.
“The schisms and heresies of science are children;
Those who are given more sense lie more;
He who melts over a book comes to godlessness -
Crito with a rosary in his hands grumbles and sighs,
And asks, holy soul, with bitter tears
Look how harmful the seed of science is between us;
Our children, before that, are quiet and submissive,
The forefathers followed to God's nimble
The service, listening with fear that they themselves did not know,
Now, to the church of temptation, the Bible has become an honor;
They interpret, they want to know the reason, the reason for everything,
Giving little faith to the sacred rite;
They lost their good character, forgot to drink kvass,
You can’t beat them to salted meat with a stick;
They no longer light candles, they don’t know fast days;
They despise worldly power in church hands,
Whispering that because we have already fallen behind worldly life,
The estates and estates are very unattractive.”

Silvan finds another fault for the sciences.
“Teaching,” he says, “makes us hungry;
We lived like this before, not knowing Latin,
Much more abundantly than we live now;
Much more bread was harvested in ignorance;
Having adopted a foreign language, they lost their bread.
If my speech is weak, if there is no rank in it,
No contact - should a nobleman worry about this?
Argument, order in words - vile that is the case,
Nobles can confirm or deny boldly.
Crazy, who souls strength and limits
Will experience; who languishes in sweat all day long,
So that the structure of the world and things can be changed
Or the reason,” he stupidly sculpts peas into the wall.
From that day on, will I grow into life, or into a box?
Although a penny? can I find out through this that the clerk,
What does a butler steal in a year? how to add water
In my pond? What is the number of barrels from a winery?
No smarter, who's eyes are full of anxiety,
Smokes, bakes over fire, to find out the properties of ores,
After all, it’s not now that we insist that beeches, that lead -
You can know the difference between gold, silver and copper.
Knowledge of herbs and diseases is all lies;
If your head hurts, the doctor looks for signs in your hand;
Blood is to blame for everything in us, if we believe him
You want to give. Are we getting weaker - the blood is quietly excessive
Flowing; if in a hurry - heat in the body; answer boldly
Gives, although no one saw the body alive inside.

In the meantime, he spends his time in such fables,
The best juice from our bag is included in it.
Why count the flow of stars, and it’s of no use,
By the way, don’t sleep in one piece overnight,
For curiosity alone you will lose peace,
Looking for whether the sun is moving or are we with the earth?
In the chapel you can honor every day of the year
Day of the month and hour of sunrise.
It makes sense to divide the earth into quarters without Euclid,
We can calculate how many kopecks are in a ruble without algebra.”
Silvan praises one piece of knowledge to people:
What teaches you to multiply income and expenses is small;
To work in something that suddenly doesn’t make your pocket fatter,
It dares to call citizenship harmful and very madness.
Rosy-cheeked, burping three times, Luka sings along:
“Science destroys the commonwealth of people;
We people have become a community of God's creatures,
The gift received was not for our benefit.
What good is it to someone else when I go to sleep?
In the closet, for dead friends - I’ll lose the living ones,
When the whole community, my whole gang
Will there be ink, pen, sand and paper?
We should spend our lives in fun and feasts:
And so it doesn’t last long - what’s the use of it?
Crashing over a book and damaging your eyes?
Isn't it better to walk your days and nights with a cup?
Wine is a divine gift, there is a lot of agility in it:
Makes people friends, gives rise to conversation,
It makes you happy, it takes away all the heavy thoughts,
Poverty knows how to alleviate, encourages the weak,
It softens the hearts of the cruel, takes away gloominess,
A lover reaches his goal more easily with wine.
When they begin to drive plowed reins across the sky,
And the stars will already appear from the surface of the earth,
When rivers flow fast to their springs
And the past centuries will return,
When in Lent the monk eats alone, he becomes a liar, -
Then, leaving the glass, I’ll get down to reading the book.”
Medor complains that there is too much paper coming out
To write, to print books, and it comes to him,
That there is nothing to wrap the curled curls in;
He will not exchange a pound of good powder for Seneca;
Virgil is not worth two money in front of Yegor;
Rex, not Cicero, deserves praise.
Here are some of the speeches that ring in my ears every day;
That's why I, in my mind, needless to be a lunatic
I recommend it. When there is no benefit, it encourages
Praise for labors; without this the heart becomes sad.
How much more to endure instead of praise and blasphemy!
It’s more difficult for a drunkard not to have wine,
Why not praise the priest for the holy week,
It’s not nice for a merchant to drink beer without three pounds of hops.
I know that you can, in your mind, boldly imagine to me,
That it is difficult for an evil person to praise virtue,
That a dandy, a miser, a prude and the like
They should blaspheme science, but their speeches are malicious
Smart people are not tired, you can spit on them;
Your judgment is fair and praiseworthy; it should be so
Yes, in our age of evil, clever words are masterful.
And besides, not only those sciences have
The non-friends whom I, for short, cherish,
He searched or, to tell the truth, he could have searched boldly.
Is it enough? Saints of the gates of heaven,
And Themis entrusted the gold weights to them,
Few people, almost everyone, loves true decoration.
If you want to be a bishop, put your cassock on,
On top of that, the body is proudly striped
Let him cover it; hang a chain around your neck from gold,
Cover your head with a hood, your belly with a beard,
They led the stick in a magnificent manner to carry it before you;
In the carriage, bloated, when the heart is angry
It bursts, bless everyone left and right.
Everyone in this world must know you as an archpastor
Signs to reverently call him father.
What's in science? What good will it do to the church?
Some people, while writing a sermon, will forget the notes,
Why is income harmed? and the churches are right in them
The best are founded, and the whole church is glory.
Do you want to become a judge - hold up a hand with knots,
Scold the one who asks empty-handed,
Let the heart of the poor firmly despise tears,
Sleep on a chair while the clerk reads the extract.
If anyone remembers the civil regulations for you,
Either natural law or people's rights -
Spit in his face, tell him he's lying,
Imposing this burden on the judges is unbearable,
Why should clerks climb paper mountains?
And it is enough for the judge to know how to enforce sentences.
The time in which it presided has not reached us
Above all, wisdom and crowns alone shared,
Being the way one to the highest sunrise.
The Golden Age did not reach our family;
Pride, laziness, wealth - wisdom prevailed,
Ignorance has already settled in places of science,
He walks proudly under a miter, in an embroidered dress,
Judges the red cloth, boldly leads the shelves.
Science is torn, trimmed in rags,
Almost all the houses were knocked down with a curse;
They don’t want to get to know her, her friendships are running away,
Like, having suffered at sea, during ship service.
Everyone shouts: “We don’t see any fruit from science,
Although scientists have a full head, their hands are empty.”
If someone mixes the cards, he knows the taste of different wines,
Dancing, playing three songs on the pipe,
He makes sense to skillfully arrange the flowers in his dress,
That's why even in my youngest years
Any higher degree is a small reward,
He considers himself worthy of the face of the seven wise men.
“There is no truth in people,” shouts the brainless clergyman,
I'm not a bishop yet, but I know a watchmaker,
I can read the Psalter and Epistles fluently,
I won’t falter in Chrysostom, even though I don’t understand.”
The warrior grumbles that he does not control his regiment,
When he already knows how to sign his name.
The scribe grieves, behind the cloth that does not sit red,
It makes sense to write off the matter completely in a clear letter.
It’s a shame to be, he imagines, growing old in ignorance,
Who happened to have seven boyars in their family?
And he counts two thousand households behind him,
Although other than that he doesn’t know how to read or write.
These are hearing words and seeing examples,
Keep quiet, mind, don’t be bored, sitting in obscurity.
Life is fearless, even though it seems hard,
Who lurks silently in his quiet corner;
If all-good wisdom has given you to know,
Cheer yourself secretly, reasoning within yourself
The benefits of science; don’t look, explaining it,
Instead of the praise that you are waiting for, get evil blasphemy.

This satire, the poet’s first experience in this type of poetry, was written at the end of 1729, in the twentieth year of his age. He ridicules the ignorant and despisers of science, which is why it was inscribed “On those who blaspheme the teachings.” He wrote it just to pass his time, without intending to publish it; but on occasion, one of his friends, having asked to read it, told Theophan, Archbishop of Novgorod, who scattered it everywhere with praise for the poet and, not satisfied with it, returned it, attached poems praising the author and sent him the book “Giraldry about the Gods and poets." Following that archpastor, Archimandrite Rabbit inscribed many poems in praise of the creator (which, together with the Feofanovs, are attached at the beginning of the book), which encouraged him, and he further began to devote himself to writing satires.