Late fall. The rooks have flown away
The forest is bare, the fields are empty,
Only one strip is not compressed...
She makes me sad.
The ears seem to whisper to each other:
“It’s boring for us to listen to the autumn blizzard,
It's boring to bow down to the ground,
Fat grains bathing in dust!
Every night we are ruined by the villages1
Every passing voracious bird,
The hare tramples us, and the storm beats us...
Where is our plowman? what else is waiting?
Or are we worse born than others?
Or did they bloom and spike unharmoniously?
No! we are no worse than others - and for a long time
The grain has filled and ripened within us.
It was not for this reason that he plowed and sowed
So that the autumn wind will scatter us?..”
The wind brings them a sad answer:
- Your plowman has no urine.
He knew why he plowed and sowed,
Yes, I didn’t have the strength to start the work.
The poor fellow is feeling bad - he doesn’t eat or drink,
The worm is sucking his aching heart,
The hands that made these furrows,
They dried up into slivers and hung like whips.
As if laying your hand on a plow,
The plowman walked thoughtfully along the strip.
Analysis of the poem “Uncompressed Strip” by Nekrasov
Nekrasov spent his childhood on his father’s family estate, so he early years was familiar with peasant life and way of life. Many of the poet's poems are based on childhood experiences. Nekrasov's father was a vivid example of an inveterate serf owner who treated his peasants as slaves. The boy saw how hard a servile life was. The peasants were directly dependent not only on their master, but also on backbreaking physical labor. Poem " Uncompressed strip"(1854) is dedicated to the picture of the ruin of a peasant farm.
At the beginning of the work, the author depicts late autumn, which is associated with the end of the agricultural cycle. The sad landscape is broken by a lonely strip of unharvested grain. This indicates some kind of emergency event. The life of a peasant directly depended on his land plot. The harvest became a means of payment to the owner and the basis for food. Bread left on the field meant inevitable death by starvation.
The author personifies lonely ears of corn that are destroyed by animals and bad weather. The wheat is burdened by the long-ripened grain and makes a plea to its owner, who for some reason has forgotten about his field. The answer to the ears of corn is given by the “autumn wind.” He says that the plowman could not forget about his work. He was struck down by a serious illness. The peasant understands that time for harvesting is running out, but he cannot do anything. Nekrasov does not describe the feelings that a sick person experiences. And it is so clear that the peasant says goodbye not only to grain, but also to own life. Having not paid the due quitrent and not having worked the corvee, he can hardly hope for the lord’s help.
The peasant is not at all to blame for what happened. He sowed his field in a timely manner, rejoiced at the first shoots, and protected the wheat from birds and animals. Everything pointed to a rich harvest, which was supposed to be a worthy reward for all the work. The tragedy is that an ordinary person could only rely on his own strength. As long as he is physically healthy, he is not in danger of death. But any illness, even a temporary one, can dash all hopes forever.
Nekrasov shows a strong connection common people with nature. But this connection becomes fatal due to serfdom. The peasant, shackled by debt and hunger, cannot even try to change his situation. The destruction of the crop will inevitably lead to the death of its owner and his family.
“Uncompressed strip” Nikolay Nekrasov
Late fall. The rooks have flown away
The forest is bare, the fields are empty,Only one strip is not compressed...
She makes me sad.The ears seem to whisper to each other:
“It’s boring for us to listen to the autumn blizzard,It's boring to bow down to the ground,
Fat grains bathing in dust!Every night we are ruined by the villages1
Every passing voracious bird,The hare tramples us, and the storm beats us...
Where is our plowman? what else is waiting?Or are we worse born than others?
Or did they bloom and spike unharmoniously?No! we are no worse than others - and for a long time
The grain has filled and ripened within us.It was not for this reason that he plowed and sowed
So that the autumn wind will scatter us?..”The wind brings them a sad answer:
- Your plowman has no urine.He knew why he plowed and sowed,
Yes, I didn’t have the strength to start the work.The poor fellow is feeling bad - he doesn’t eat or drink,
The worm is sucking his aching heart,The hands that made these furrows,
They dried up into slivers and hung like whips.As if laying your hand on a plow,
The plowman walked thoughtfully along the strip.
Analysis of Nekrasov’s poem “Uncompressed Strip”
Nikolai Nekrasov grew up in a noble family, but his childhood was spent on the family estate of the Yaroslavl province, where the future poet grew up with peasant children. The cruelty of his father, who not only beat the serfs, but also raised his hand against members of the household, left a deep imprint on the soul of the poet for the rest of his life, who own home was as powerless as the serfs. Therefore, Nekrasov not only sympathized with representatives of the lower classes of society, but also in his work constantly addressed their problems, trying to show the life of peasants without embellishment.
Nekrasov left his parents' home very early, but never for a moment forgot what he had seen and experienced in his childhood. A quarter of a century later, in 1854, the poet wrote the poem “The Uncompressed Strip,” in which he again touched on the topic of serfdom. The author of this work, which would later become a textbook, sincerely believed that if the peasants received freedom, they would be able to build their lives in such a way as not to experience hunger and need. However, the poet was deeply mistaken, since the abolition of serfdom on paper drove ordinary people into even greater bondage, since she deprived them of the most valuable thing in life - land.
“The Uncompressed Strip” is a poem that reveals how important farming was to the average peasant at that time. This was the only source of his well-being, and it depended on the harvest whether there would be peasant family with bread, or she would have to starve. But a good harvest was not always the key to prosperity, and the poet was able to convey this very clearly in his work.
“Late autumn, the rooks have flown away” - these lines, known to every schoolchild, create a peaceful and almost idyllic picture. However, against the backdrop of a serene autumn landscape, when nature is already preparing for hibernation, the author sees an unharvested strip of wheat and notes that “it brings a sad thought.” Indeed, it is difficult to imagine that a peasant, who has invested so much labor to obtain a harvest on which his life directly depends, could be so dismissive of bread. Moreover, the grain has grown beautifully, and is now forced to become prey to the wind, birds and wild animals. Using the technique of animating inanimate objects, the author, on behalf of the unharvested wheat, asks the question: “Where is our plowman? What else are you waiting for?
However, the omnipresent wind brings a disappointing answer to the heavy ears of corn, telling sad story a farmer who is unable to harvest his crops due to illness. “He knew why he plowed and sowed,” the poet notes, but at the same time emphasizes that it is unlikely that a zealous owner who knows the value of his work will be able to reap its fruits. And this means that the peasant will inevitably die by starvation, and no one will come to his aid, because most families have exactly the same problems, among which hunger and disease occupy one of the first places.
Having given the floor to the wheat and the wind, Nekrasov tried to abstract himself from the picture he saw and evaluate it as impartially as possible. After all the only explanation the fact that one of the peasants did not harvest the harvest is a serious illness. However, the saddest thing in this situation is that this does not surprise anyone and does not evoke sympathy - people, according to the poet, are so accustomed to death that they simply do not notice it. And this submission to fate causes a feeling of annoyance in Nekrasov, he is convinced that by the right of his birth a person is free, therefore he must build his life so that it does not depend on circumstances.
Great ones about poetry:
Poetry is like painting: some works will captivate you more if you look at them closely, and others if you move further away.
Small cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creaking of unoiled wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is what has gone wrong.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is the most susceptible to the temptation to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen splendors.
Humboldt V.
Poems are successful if they are created with spiritual clarity.
The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is usually believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish poems grow without knowing shame... Like a dandelion on a fence, like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not only in verses: it is poured out everywhere, it is all around us. Look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life emanate from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.
I. S. Turgenev
For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.
G. Lichtenberg
A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. The poet makes our thoughts sing within us, not our own. By telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He's a magician. By understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful poetry flows, there is no room for vanity.
Murasaki Shikibu
I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in the Russian language. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. It is through feeling that art certainly emerges. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
-...Are your poems good, tell me yourself?
- Monstrous! – Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! – the newcomer asked pleadingly.
- I promise and swear! - Ivan said solemnly...
Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from others only in that they write in their words.
John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"
Every poem is a veil stretched over the edges of a few words. These words shine like stars, and because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
Ancient poets, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. This is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind each poetic work of those times, a whole Universe was certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for those who carelessly awaken the dozing lines.
Max Fry. "Chatty Dead"
I gave one of my clumsy hippopotamuses this heavenly tail:...
Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea, and not a plague!
Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky
Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore, drive away the critics. They are just pathetic sippers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let poetry seem to him like an absurd moo, a chaotic pile-up of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from a boring mind, a glorious song sounding on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.
Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"
Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing more than pure poetry that has rejected the word.
| Late fall. The rooks have flown away, the forest is bare, the fields are empty, only one strip is not compressed... It brings a sad thought. It seems that the ears of corn are whispering to each other: “It’s boring for us to listen to the autumn blizzard, It’s boring for us to bend down to the very ground, bathing fat grains in dust! Every night we are ravaged by the villages of every passing voracious bird, the hare tramples us, and the storm beats us... Where is our plowman? What else are we waiting for? Or were we born worse than others? Or did we not bloom and ear together? No! We are no worse than others - and long ago the grain poured into us and ripened. It was not for the same reason that he plowed and sowed, So that the wind would blow us dispelled the autumn? .." The wind brings them a sad answer: “Your plowman has no urine. He knew why he plowed and sowed, But he started the work beyond his strength. It’s bad for the poor guy - he doesn’t eat or drink, The worm is sucking his aching heart, The hands that made these furrows dried up into splinters, hung like whips, The eyes dimmed, and the voice disappeared, That he sang a mournful song, As, leaning his hand on the plow, the Plowman walked thoughtfully in a stripe. November 22 - 25, 1854 |
Notes
Published according to Article 1873, vol. I, part 1, p. 137-138.
Included in the collected works for the first time: St. 1856. Reprinted in the 1st part of all subsequent lifetime editions of Poems.
In the R. book it is dated: “1855”, but, obviously, it was written earlier (see the date of the censorship of the first publication in C). In Art. 1879 it was assigned (probably at the direction of the author) to 1854. More exact date reported in the authorized copy of the GBL: “November 22-25.”
The image of an uncompressed strip may have been suggested to Nekrasov by the well-known beginning of a folk song: “Is it my stripe, but a little stripe, Is it my stripe, but not a plowed one...”, etc. (Sobolevsky A.I. Great Russians folk songs, t. 3. St. Petersburg, 1897, p. 51).
The poem was perceived by some readers as allegorical: in the image of a plowman who “started a job beyond his strength,” they probably saw an allusion to Nicholas I, who led the country to military disaster and died during Crimean War(cm.: Garkavi A. M. N. A. Nekrasov in the fight against tsarist censorship. Kaliningrad, 1966, p. 135). This interpretation is arbitrary, especially since the poem was written before the death of Nicholas I (cf. commentary on the poem “In the Village”). K.I. Chukovsky believed that the “Uncompressed Strip” has autobiographical basis and was written “under the influence of a serious illness that Nekrasov fell ill with in 1853.” (PSS, vol. I, p. 550). Indirect confirmation of this: in Article 1856, the “Uncompressed strip” is included in the 4th department, composed of lyrical works; in one of his last poems, “Dream” (1877), Nekrasov wrote about himself as a sower who collects “ears of grain from his unharvested strip.”
The influence of the “Uncompressed Strip” is felt in V. V. Krestovsky’s poem “The Strip” (1861).
Set to music many times (N. Ya. Afanasyev, 1877; V. I. Rebikov, 1900; I. S. Khodorovsky, 1902; A. T. Grechaninov, 1903; A. A. Spendiarov, 1903; P. G. Chesnokov , 1904; V. P. Adamov, 1910; A. E. Lozovoy, 1913; A. P. Maksimov, 1913; R. S. Bunin, 1961; T. N. Khrennikov, 1971).
Stanitsa - The director of the Kyiv Military Gymnasium, P. N. Yushenov, turned to Nekrasov with a request to clarify the meaning of this word. In a letter dated March 31, 1874, Nekrasov replied: “I<...>I used the word “stanitsa” because since childhood I heard it among the people, by the way, in this sense: birds fly villages; sparrows village flew over, etc.<...>The words: group, party, even flock, which could replace it in “The Uncompressed Strip,” in addition to their prosaic nature, would be less accurate, depriving the expression of the shade that characterizes the migratory bird (about which we're talking about in a poem), located from time to time camp on convenient places for rest and food."