Famous French poets. French lyricists of the 19th century

Doomed renegades, striving for death, rebelling against order, morality, religion, suffering from lack of recognition, tormented by the feeling of the decline of an era and civilization. They sought salvation from a mental crisis in self-irony; they saw the charm of despondency and the beauty of decline. Raising beauty to the absolute, they found it even in ugliness. The heirs of Baudelaire and the predecessors of the Symbolists, the French lyricists of the last third of the 19th century - they entered the history of world literature as the “Cursed Poets”

Actually, no one cursed them. Damned poets are not a poetry school, not creative association and not a literary era. This is the title of a series of essays by Paul Verlaine about contemporary poets. Initially, the series included three articles - about Tristan Corbiere, Arthur Rimbaud and Stéphane Mallarmé. A few years later, in 1888, the book was republished and also included essays about Marcelina Debord-Valmore, Villiers de Lisle-Adam and Verlaine himself. The author described himself under the name of Poor Lillian (Pauvre Lelian). The name of the series of essays became a household word - other French poets of the 1870-1890s began to be called damned poets. So, over time, the list of “damned” was replenished with such names as Charles Cros, Maurice Rollin, Jean Richpin, Jules Laforgue and Germaine Nouveau.

The work of the Damned Poets falls on the last third of the 19th century - the period of decadence. Decadence is also not a literary school. This is a crisis of European culture
late 19th – early 20th centuries. A period characterized by decadent moods (in fact, the word Decadence itself translated from French means decline), disappointment in generally accepted
values, denial of positive doctrines in art. The tragic feeling of the “end of the century”, the cracked wormhole of restlessness, outcast, twilight languor of the spirit unites the major French lyricists of the late 19th century. At the same time, almost all the damned poets, with the exception of Jules Laforgue, shunned the circle of decadents. Unlike the decadents who slipped into “decadence” and glorified their melancholy, the moods of the damned poets were not limited to stating their renegadeness. They tried to overcome this restlessness, outcast, mental crisis. And it was precisely this search for a way out, this unwillingness to put up with the depressing state of affairs, the desire to overcome painful melancholy, to rise above the imperfections of the world, that provided that tragic intensity, thanks to which the works of the damned poets became the enduring property of French literature.

Paul Verlaine

Having dubbed himself and his fellow writers “damned poets,” Paul Verlaine saw himself as a “sinful great martyr and quivering singer.” This is how he described himself under the name “Poor Lillian” in the famous series of essays. The oldest and most gifted of the “damned poets,” Verlaine, both in life and in his work, struggled with the quagmire of melancholy and vice that sucked him in.Actually, his entire creative legacy can be compared to a sentimental diary, in which from book to book he describes the ordeals of his weak soul, his tossing between sensuality and religiosity, between the abyss of sin and the thirst for purity. Weak-willed and susceptible to the temptations of the “green serpent”, “red lanterns” and other equally forbidden ones, Paul Verlaine spent his entire life struggling with his own nature, which dragged him into the filth of vice. The poet could not be happy, leading a pious, righteous life - respectable bourgeois comfort is unbearable for him, he does not love his wife, the ideals of bourgeois society are alien and incomprehensible to him. And at the same time, he burns with shame, plunging to the bottom of society - spending time in taverns, brothels, wandering with his younger friend Rimbaud, who became his lover. This conflict, constantly smoldering within, led to outbreaks of rage when he shot at Rimbaud, beat his wife, and chased his mother down the street. The weak-willed tossing and turning had a detrimental effect on the poet’s life, but it was they that became the main theme of his work, and to some extent, a constant source of his inspiration.

“I am the Roman world of the period of decline,” the poet once said about himself. Verlaine's poetry reflects the melancholy and mental discord that haunted him all his life. Sad, drooping, lost Verlaine publicly proclaims the heavy cross that fate has laid upon him, the debauchery, drunkenness, and corruption he describes - a kind of self-crucifixion performed for the sake of insight.

It is worth noting that Verlaine is one of the most musical poets in France, soulfully melodious, without passion or intensity. His poetry is so melodic that sometimes the mournful witchcraft melodiousness of the poems pushes the semantic content of the work into the background.

let the word be only a lie
it is also sound
part of the music of which everything is available

Paul Verlaine does not paint or tell. His poetry is more like a blurry, dotted drawing, a sketch that gives the reader the right mood. The poet’s two best, main books are “Songs Without Words” (1874) and “Wisdom” (published in 1880, but written mainly five or six years earlier).

Arthur Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud

Rebel and tramp, teenage poet Arthur Rimbaud devoted only 4-5 years of his life to creativity. That was enoughhim, so that this obstinate and uncouth youth from the city of Charleville in the Ardennes would go down in the history of world literature as the legendary forerunner of all revolutionary avant-garde artists of the coming century. Rimbaud - original, impetuous, daring - is in many ways a follower of Baudelaire. Like Baudelaire, young Rimbaud dislikes the vulgarity of the bourgeois world. But unlike most of Baudelaire’s successors, he does not limit himself to exposing the imperfections of reality, but tries to find another reality, genuine and otherworldly, that must be found. The search for this reality, which Arthur Rimbaud was never able to find in his work, was probably the most daring attempt on centuries-old foundations French poetry. Rimbaud, as a poet, declared himself already at the age of 16, when his first poem was published. Then there was a trip to the north of France and the south of Belgium, a bohemian life in Paris, where he lived with Verlaine, Charles Cros, Theodore Banville, and wanderings with Verlaine around Europe. Rimbaud was 19 years old when Verlaine shot him in the wrist during an argument. After this, Arthur Rimbaud returned to his mother, to the Rocher farm. He was a teacher, soldier, merchant and sailor. But never studied poetry again.

The entire work of Arthur Rimbaud is permeated with restlessness, the poet feels like a stranger in the bourgeois philistine world, he challenges everythingsedentary, philistine. At first he tries to imitate Verlaine, Hugo, Baudelaire, but immediately brings something of his own into poetry - his style is impetuously fresh and free, he is caustic and cynical, mocking and furiously blasphemous, his imagery is unexpectedly iridescent, apt, piercing. The best work of Arthur Rimbaud is considered to be the poem “The Drunken Ship” - a lyrical myth-confession about a wondrous adventure odyssey. A ship without a crew, with torn sails and a rudder torn off, rushes past wonders and dangers. The poem is open to a variety of interpretations and interpretations. Intense, colorful sketches, a scattering of metaphors, stunningly unexpected imagery - the seventeen-year-old poet demonstrated the skill of a mature author. In his quest for freedom and experimentation, Arthur Rimbaud comes to free verse. It is believed that the first French free verse was written by him - this is a poem called “About the Sea”

Silver and copper carts

Steel and silver stems

They raise foam

Layers of weeds are being cut up.

Currents of the wasteland

And the deep furrows of the tide

Circulating to the east

Towards the pillars of the forest,

Towards the trunks of the pier,

Where the sharp edge is touched by cascades of light.

His prose poems, “A Season in Hell” and “Illuminations,” were also written in free verse form.

Charles Cros

Sparkling and caustic Charles Cros- author of only two poetry books, “The Sandalwood Chest” (1873) and the posthumous “Necklace of Claws” (1908). During his lifetime, Cro was much better known as the inventor of the phonograph and a researcher of sound waves, but his work was perceived by his contemporaries as something frivolous, a kind of “indulging in the pen.” However, the work of Charles Cros, collected in two small collections, proves that he was by no means a casual amateur. Under the guise of a lightweight writer of trifles and epigrams was hidden a sensitive epoch, observant and sensitive lyricist. Cro's ironic, teasing, and sometimes caustic smile is just a screen with which he tries to cover up the aching melancholy, and sometimes the horror of the oppressive, suffocating everyday life. Even when this fragile defense falls under the onslaught of merciless reality, the poet finds the strength not to descend into tearful lamentations, he is restrained. He puts a painful confession in the form of a simple song, hides love's melancholy behind a graceful hint, speaks casually, in passing, about rejection, restlessness, characteristic of all the “damned,” often covering it with a bitter, mean smile. The tragic dignity of Charles Cros is emphasized by the fusion of semantic and stylistic diversity of his works.

Tristan Corbiere

Tristan Corbiere

Tristan Corbière's poetry is an explosive mixture of merciless burlesque puns, blasphemous prayers, caustic sarcasm, and crude and direct simplicity. Death with a smile, tears with laughter, tenderness with pain, irony with despair - his angular, passionate, poignant works are invariably tragic. Like all his “damned” comrades in the pen, Corbière feels like a stranger, unfairly rejected at a futile and ugly feast - this is how the poet sees the bourgeois world around him.And the poet is not inclined to embellish the unpleasant reality; on the contrary, he is an accuser whoth conveys to the reader the raw, naked truth. The son of a sailor and a seaside resident, in the poem “People of the Sea” he refutes the wonderful legends of enthusiastic travelers, talking about the sailor’s lot. Describing the city in the poem “Paris by Day,” Corbiere talks about ulcers, scale, and ugliness.

God the cook distributes the food on duty,

The spice in them is love, the spicy seasoning is sweat.

All sorts of rabble are crowding around the fire,

Drunkards hurry to sit down and get drunk,

Rotten meat is seething, attractive

The poet handled quite freely not only the word, but also the classical rules of versification, experimenting with rhythm, syntax, conversational interruptions, and enumeration. He became the author of only one book - “Yellow Love” (1873).

Jules Laforgue

The clown with a sad smile, Jules Laforgue, was the only one of the “damned poets” who joined the decadents. Laforgue's poetry is hopelessly and painfully sad. What is there to be happy about if the poet is sure that any undertaking is doomed to failure? According to Laforgue, all that can be done in such a situation is to make fun of one’s own inferiority, to try to hide it behind a clownish grin. Hence the mask-self-portrait of a sad clown, which appears in two of his lifetime collections - “Patches” (1885) and “Imitation of Our Lady of Our Moon” (1885), and in posthumous ones - “Flowers” good will"(1900) and "The Sob of the Earth" (1901)

Despite being completely discouraged by life, Laforgue was not afraid to look for new solutions in poetry; moreover, he was one of the most daring experimenters. It was this sad clown, who died at the age of 27 from tuberculosis, who became the first French poet to seriously begin developing French free verse. Jules Laforgue was engaged in translations of the American founder of free verse, Walt Whitman, who made a strong impression on him. However, Laforgue wove his free verse into his usual meters. Paul Verlaine, who came up with the formula of “damned poets,” did not recognize the decadent Laforgue as such, but his descendants corrected his mistake.

Stefan Mallarmé

Stefan Mallarmé first joined the Parnassians, and later became one of the leaders of the Symbolists. The poet learned his craft from the Parnassians, considering the Parnassian Banville his teacher. But Mallarmé, like all “damned poets,” owes his worldview to Baudelaire. However, unlike the repentant sinner Verlaine or the fiery rebel Rimbaud, Mallarmé is not an accuser or a revolutionary. He is a patient, meticulous contemplator who searches for the immutable root of things and selects words to point it out to the reader. The poet verified every letter in an effort to achieve perfection, to bring the lyrics of the end of the century to the limit of completeness. Mallarmé crystallized in his poetry the moods of decadence and dissatisfaction dispersed in the air of France, languid melancholy and denial of involvement in what is happening, the thirst for searching for something different, unknown, but real. He tried to comprehend the crossroads of French poetry of those years and understand what goals they led to. Stefan Mallarmé approached his work so carefully that as a result, his entire creative legacy, the creation of which took his entire life, fit into a small book - “Poems and Prose”, 1893. And all his life he wrote the Book - his most important, most perfect , which should have included the results of his many years painstaking work. “Everything in the world exists in order to ultimately be embodied in a book” - this was the motto of Stéphane Mallarmé. He was never destined to write a book - mythical, labored, perfect. But Mallarmé’s contribution to the development of French poetry is by no means less - he introduced his own style into the lyrics of France, which did not disappear without a trace, but became the basis on which the poets of the next century could grow. And his desire for the Ideal-Absolute was picked up by future generations.

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Old French poetry began with the poetry of gestures, that is, the song of gestures. Folk poetry turned into personal poetry when the author signed his name and his name was used when the work was distributed orally. What was the old poetry about? The answer to this question is very simple - about the life, everyday life and relationships of ordinary people. So, for example, women, when they were spinning and cleaning the house, quietly hummed something under their breath, after which the song turned into a poem, poem or prose and was written down on paper. Behind for a long time In the development of mankind, poetry evolved along with it. The rituals and culture of various nationalities were also incorporated into the works; examples of this include songs for Christmas carols, lullabies or spring round dance songs, which told about the bitter lot of married madams and the wonderful life of young mademoiselles who have not yet married, the theme sounds differently “ la mal mariee.”

Many poems began with the glorification of spring, at least a couple of lines, but there should have been a similar introduction, even for works of a political bent. At one time, spring lyrics were considered synonymous with the word “poetry.” She very often intertwined with the theme of mal mariee. This grew into a whole love genre. Against its background, a courtly theme arose, which could be traced in the works of troubadours from Provence, this was around the 12th century.

At the court of the kings, various literary clubs in which they took part local teachers and philosophers. In the north of France there was a school of trouvères who stubbornly opposed the southern troubadours, sometimes borrowing some literary elements from them.

Northern School: Pierre de Corby, Pierre Mogneau, Jean Erard, Gilde Vigne, Audefroy Bastard, Fastoul, Jean Bretel and Adam de la Gal. Based on southern authors, they reflect shepherd themes, with a focus on the native area, native fields and hills. They can also be traced love theme, positioning love to serve each other according to certain canons.

These are all townspeople and mostly clergy. Imitating the troubadours of the south, they injected a peculiar freshness into established poetic forms. Thus, in shepherd songs (pastourelles), also introduced under southern influence, they depict the games of the shepherds of their native Picardy. The same spontaneity emanates from the songs of Colin Muse and Gus Brule, who also did not belong to the feudal nobility. Most of The canzon of the trouvères is full of purely conventional love casuistry. Love, according to the theory of the Trouvères, is service, and this service has.

Charles Baudelaire is a poet, literary critic, and adherent of classical French literature. His work was greatly influenced by the early death of his father and the early remarriage of his mother, which is clearly visible in many of his works. His striking works: “Flowers of Evil”, “Carrion”, “Albatross”.
Paul Verlaine is a symbolist and impressionist. His works: “A Frenchman's Travels in France”, collections: “Saturn Poems”, “Songs for Her” and others. His work is distinguished by piercing sadness and melancholy, true and deep lyrics.
Jacques Dupin - poet, art critic. He was born in a psychiatric clinic, where his father held the position of director. His father passed away early, Jacques was raised by his grandfather. Works: “Malevich”, collections: “Break Line”, “Embrasure” and others.
Jean de la Fontaine is a fabulist, widely known to the French, as in Russia I. Krylov. He grew up surrounded by nature in forests and meadows, and was a member of the Catholic community. He was interested in poetry and philosophy. Works: “The Wolf and the Dog”, “The Crow and the Fox”, “The Shepherd Wolf”.
Jean Baptiste Poquelin, known under the pseudonym Molière. He was closely associated with the theater and acting career, was a theater director, and wrote many plays himself. Works: “The Imaginary Invalid”, “The Flying Doctor”, “School for Husbands” and others. He died while playing one of the roles in his play, without finishing his role.
Jacques Prévère - poet, playwright, film critic, was born into a wealthy family, wrote scripts for films, as well as collections of poems on various topics, but mainly on social topics. Works: “Rain and a Bucket”, “The King and the Bird”, “Words”, “Stories”.
Andre Marie de Chenier is a poet, politician and journalist rolled into one. Born in Turkey, as his family was diplomatic. Traveled all over Europe, is a discoverer of new literary movement, it is even called “the harbinger of romanticism.” Works: “Young Prisoner”, “Iambics” and others.
Melin Farmer is a modern famous singer and poet.
Jean Chaplain - 17th century poet and literary critic. Compiled one of famous dictionaries French, wrote odes and sonnets, often mentioning Joan of Arc as the main character. Works: “On reading ancient novels” - a treatise, an ode “To Richelieu” and others.

Many eminent Russian poets, critics and authors tried to give their description of French poetry, but its depth is simply not indescribable, as Nikolai Gumilyov writes, it is impossible to describe it. Numerous representatives of the poetic movement live in the heads and hearts of the French, therefore everyone who is interested in the French language should know by heart a couple of lines from the works of Victor Hugo or Jean de la Fontaine.

Modern French poetry does not shine with its talents, but the following authors should still be highlighted:

Jean-Michel Molpois is a poet, he published his first book in 78 of the last century; he owns about 30 collections of poems. He holds the position of editor-in-chief of a French literary magazine, teaches at a university and is the head of a writers' house in the country's capital. Basically, his poems are a critical vision of other poets of past years or the present.
Jean-Baptiste Para – critic, poet, art critic. For a long time he hosted a program on television about poetry and literature, just like Jean-Michel Molpois, he is the editor-in-chief of one of the literary magazines. Mainly engaged in literary poetic translations of European and Asian authors from several languages: Italian, Russian, Indian and some others.

In order not to show yourself as ignorant, you should monitor all areas of life, especially in the country of the language you are learning, but so that this does not turn into fanaticism, and so that you also do not forget about your homeland. Study, get to know, get enlightened, do not forget about live communication with native speakers, which can be carried out on international forums or in social networks. Good luck, Russian French!

Compilation, foreword by M. Yasnov

Development of the series by A. Novikov

Commentary on life and love

Charles Baudelaire once remarked: “Poetry, on pain of its own death or diminution of the gift, cannot be confused with science or morality; its subject is not the truth, but only itself.” This “independence” of poetry is also expressed in the fact that there is no other art that speaks about love the way it speaks. And if we express in one phrase the essence of what we call love lyrics, then in it, in this phrase, there will certainly be spiritual service, and the general idea of beauty and nobility, and a journey into the area of heartfelt experiences, and most importantly - the image of the Beautiful Lady, which not a single poet has passed by throughout the entire history of mankind civilization.

In this sense, French poetry was lucky like no other - it is the feeling of love, poured into the forms of lyrics, primarily classical, that is given to speakers of the French language and French mentality in all its fullness, brightness and diversity. The path from feeling to poetry and from poetry to feeling gave rise to an unconditional phenomenon that can be called a commentary on life and love, and the more and more deeply we read French poets, the more extensive and detailed this commentary becomes. Our book is only a small part of the “biography of the heart”, as it was captured by Russian translators, who interpreted not only and not so much the language of poetry itself, but the language of love, often complementing and enriching the outline of the original with new shades.

Old French poetry dealt with tough poetic forms: rondo and sonnet, ode and ballad, epigram and elegy - all these types of verse were carefully developed, reproduced many times and in the smallest formal detail by authors who tried not only to connect the past and the present with a long series of allusions and reminiscences, but also literally from each poems to extract topical meaning. Most of the poetic texts of those eras are addressed to specific people, friends and lovers, noble persons and patrons, monarchs and literary opponents - ordinary characters and heroes of events that were then well-known, right down to the smallest everyday episodes that have sunk into eternity. From these little things a real mosaic of life is created, which has not faded to this day, in which, in particular, love poetry occupies an essential and sometimes even paramount place.

All this can be seen in the lines and stanzas created in the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and later - in the eighteenth century, which gave us unforgettable examples of “high” and “low” poetry. Next to the glorification of “inspirations”, next to noble service to the ideal (often precisely the Ideal, since in many poems of those eras the image of the Beautiful Lady is devoid of everyday signs and individual traits), there was always another tradition, more specific and personal, let’s call it “Villon”, in which grassroots culture revived and spread widely, challenging the generally accepted views and norms of its time.

The consequence of the courtly cult of the Lady - real and literary - was a revision in society of the entire complex of relations between men and women. In aristocratic and wealthy circles, the recognition of spirituality in these relationships became important. The grassroots culture, in which erotic motives are always vivid, responded in its own way to courtly love, transferring its gains from the area of prohibitions and serious feelings to an open display and mocking play of everything “forbidden.” The place of high and reverent passion was taken by low adultery, but it was built according to laws already worked out by courtly love; in contrast to the high genres of literature, the heroes of which were representatives high nobility, nobility and clergy, heroes of lower culture - ordinary people, and even representatives of the “bottom”: beggars, thieves, promenading girls.

The love lyrics of old times are filled with frivolous motives. The word “frivolous” should not create a frivolous mood. Over the centuries of French poetry that are presented in this book, numerous poets paid tribute to, so to speak, the “borderline” tradition, in the zone of action of which there are not only love and erotic poems, but also ironic and satirical ones, covering a wide variety of poetic genres from epigram to poetic tale. This is so-called “light” poetry, which is by no means easy to translate; on the contrary, it presupposes virtuoso performing arts, preserving the features of the original.

In France, such skills were usually honed on the ideological field; it is no coincidence that, for example, in the seventeenth century, which discovered the poetic baroque, love lyrics and politics turned out to be inextricably intertwined - so much so that this era of “love and libertinism” still finds the most vivid response from everyone who is immersed in it. Baroque poetry with its latent tragedy, with its emblems, with its stylistic oxymorons and increased interest to the poetic technique itself began to directly resonate with the eschatological moods of the reading audience, its passions and thirst for the new. Not the totalitarian aspirations of classicism, not the revolutionary pathos of romanticism - but the bizarre, secret and not always good-natured rebellion of the baroque has turned out to be consonant with humanitarian sentiments in modern times European society standing on the threshold of both social and ethical change.

And if we look, say, into the eighteenth century, we will see that love lyrics do not just describe or express feelings - first of all, they study morals. Hundreds of pages are devoted to this later research. According to the historian Michel Delon, poetry reigned everywhere in France at that time: “It sounded in the streets and in the salons. Everything rhymed - not just congratulations on the occasion family holidays or social events; rhymed to add clarity to conversations on serious topics. Voltaire gained fame as the major poet era, and he expressed his ideas about life in Alexandrian verse... Among the pleasures of that time, the first place was given to love, not so much in its realities of life, but in ideas about it and human whims.”

The era is filled with details, gestures, hints, actions, texts that testify to the revival ancient tradition and the conquests of a new sensuality. “Antiquity,” notes Delon, “is both culture and its appearance... Politeness becomes the art of gracefully speaking obscenities, and poetry falls under the spell of debauchery without using a single dirty word.” Famous philologist Efim Etkind, analyzing Batyushkov’s translations from Parni, wrote that erotic elegies gave the translator the opportunity to express his worldview and his temperament, since, despite the frivolity of the plots, Parni’s poems were primarily developed psychological characteristics and dramatic conflicts. And at the other pole - so bewitching love messages Andre Chénier, who, according to Osip Mandelstam, turned the elegy into a secular love letter, in which “the living conversational speech of a romantically thinking and feeling person flows freely.”

Svetlana ZAMLELOVA

(Russia Moscow)

French lyricists of the 19th century

Svetlana Zamlelova is a member of the Union of Writers of Russia, corresponding member of the Petrovsky Academy of Sciences and Arts.

As you know, 2010 has been declared the Year of France in Russia. The Year of Russia-France is held simultaneously in both countries and includes over 350 events! Timed to coincide with this event is the release in the publishing house "Khudozhestvennaya Literatura" of a gift miniature book in a dust jacket "French Lyricists of the 19th Century / Les Lyriques françaises de ХiХ-em siècle" in French and Russian, translated by Svetlana Zamlelova...

The Magnificent Seven

French poetry XIX century - a phenomenon so complex and diverse that in order to be presented fully and vividly, it needs a multi-volume anthology. The scale of this phenomenon does not allow it to be squeezed into a small collection that fits in a handbag or jacket pocket. But in our hectic times, the pocket edition has much more chances be read than a tome, under which the shelf sags and whose heaviness does not allow you to read on the go, but forces you to carefreely sit in an easy chair, forgetting for a while about the fuss and tossing.

This book presents seven French poets who were born and worked in the 19th century. Seven magnificent lyricists, whose names rise above the poetic space of France, like the seven hills of Rome above the hundred squares of the eternal city.

Victor Hugo, who made a revolution in French poetry, turning French vocabulary, in the words of Charles Baudelaire, into a picturesque, melodic, moving world...

Alfred de Musset, unlike any of the romantic poets, was at the same time ironic, sad and life-loving, and for the first time in French literature addressed the theme of timelessness...

“King of Poets” Charles Leconte de Lisle, founder of the “Parnassian group”, author of the theory of “art for art’s sake”...

Infamous for his collection “Flowers of Evil”, Charles Baudelaire, who also created a new type of lyricism - a prose poem...

The founder of the most significant movement of poetry of the late 19th century, who influenced the entire world poetry, Paul Verlaine with allegories and halftones in poems similar to music...

One of the “damned poets” and, perhaps, the most damned of them is Tristan Corbiere, who died in the prime of life, having published the only book, imbued with tragedy and a sense of doom, never noticed by contemporaries...

And finally, the dreamy and refined Albert Samen, close to the Symbolists, the author of poems similar to dreams, also little known during his lifetime and, unfortunately, still little known to the Russian reader...

Just as one can judge the garden as a whole by looking at the fruits of only a few trees in a spacious garden, so by touching the work of poets, each of whom is a milestone in the development of French literature, one can feel the nerve of one of the great literatures, be imbued with its spirit and admire its beauty .

French literature and, in particular, French poetry, have always been a source of new literary movements and forms that had a serious influence on the literature of other countries. Including each of the poets " the magnificent seven"was integrally and inescapably included in spiritual world their followers, becoming an object of imitation, a source of creative experience or critical reflection.

The purpose of this publication is to support in the Russian reader a spark of interest in French poetry and, perhaps, inspire a deeper and more substantive study of it.

Victor Marie Hugo born February 26, 1802 in Besançon. The parents of the future writer separated due to disagreement political beliefs: father became a general under Napoleon, mother remained a supporter of the monarchy. His mother’s views influenced Victor’s worldview and creativity. Already in his first poems, he glorifies the Bourbons and denounces Napoleon.

While studying at school, Victor received awards in literary competitions. Hugo published his first collection of poetry, Odes and Other Poems, in 1822. At this time, he followed the traditions of classicism. poetry XVIII c., under the influence of F. Chateaubriand.

A new period in the work of Victor Hugo began in the second half of the 20s. Its result is the collection “ Oriental motifs"(1829), which included poems written in 1825-1826. Victor Hugo brought about a real reform of French poetry. The hero of the works is not the contemplator, but the doer existing in a constantly changing world. Hugo unusually expanded his poetic vocabulary, resorting to archaisms, technical terms, and colloquial language. In contrast to the classicist language, the poet created a variety of flexible rhythms and invented complex rhymes.

IN different jobs Hugo criticized the dogmatism of the classicists. In the famous preface to the drama “Cromwell” (1827), which became a manifesto of French romanticism, Hugo called for destroying the boundaries between genres, mixing the tragic and the funny, the sublime and the base. Hugo developed the theory of the grotesque as a means of contrast.

Hugo created a new type of historical novel, where it is not the historical figure that comes to the fore, but the atmosphere of the time, the opposition of good and evil. The heroes of Hugo's novels are people from the people, “outcasts,” and often a diverse crowd of people. Victor Hugo wrote the novels “Gan the Icelander” (1823), “Bug Jargal” (1826), “Cathedral Notre Dame of Paris"(1831), "Les Miserables" (1862), "Toilers of the Sea" (1866), "The Man Who Laughs" (1869), "The Ninety-Third Year" (1874)

Hugo's lyrical collections - “Autumn Leaves” (1831), “Songs of Twilight” (1835), “ Inner voices"(1837), "Rays and Shadows" (1840) - were distinguished by both thematic and stylistic diversity.

Since 1841 Victor Hugo - member French Academy.

Speaking in 1851 against Louis Bonaparte, who committed coup d'etat and turning the republic into a monarchy, Hugo was forced to go into exile. The collection "Retribution" (1853), written in exile, became a model of French civil lyrics XIX century In exile, a collection of poems, “Contemplations” (1856), was published, capturing the events of the poet’s mental life, his memories and reflections.

For events Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune of 1871. Hugo responded with a collection of poems, “The Terrible Year” (1872)

Many outstanding works have been created based on Hugo's subjects. musical works, including G. Verdi’s opera “Rigoletto” (drama “The King Amuses himself”), A. Dargomyzhsky’s opera “Esmeralda” (novel “Notre Dame de Paris”), C. Pugni’s ballet “Esmeralda”.

Living during revolutionary times, Victor Hugo was a true revolutionary in literature, becoming the founder of French romanticism. Hugo's work influenced not only French literature, but also on many foreign writers, including Russians.

During Hugo's lifetime, his novels were published in Russian. Victor Hugo's poems were translated into Russian by N. Kurochkin, L. Mei, A. Pleshcheev, V. Bryusov, P. Antokolsky, A. Akhmatova, Vs. Rozhdestvensky, T. Shchepkina-Kupernik and others.

Victor Marie Hugo died at the height of his fame in 1885.

Redhead Nurmagal

You see how between the harsh rocks

Are the tops of the fir trees frozen?

As if a deer had spread its horns,

Like a tuft of wool began to bristle

On the head of a deer.

There, among the fir trees, in the darkness he lives

Tiger stained with blood

There is a lioness who guards the little lion cubs,

Hyenas, jackals and wild cat,

There's a leopard station there.

Fierce monsters live there:

Striking with poison and gaze.

And the fat, ugly hippopotamus,

A huge boa constrictor. And from time to time

The tree trunk looks like a creep.

There you will meet an eagle that screams shrilly,

And a bunch of evil monkeys.

The snake will hiss hatefully after you,

And the elephant suddenly trumpets menacingly,

Breaking bushes as we go.

Howling comes from every cave,

Eyes sparkle from everywhere.

The forest is full of monsters. An ominous horde

They growl and roar vying with each other

On grief for the surrounding people.

Barefoot, lonely - I don’t feel sorry for myself -

I'll go into the terrible thicket,

Why live next to your tender Nurmagal,

Whose hair is red like tinsel,

Dreams

Leave me at that hour when they are smoking.

Wavy brow in misty veils

Covered the horizon. And solar fire

Goes out. The oak grove still keeps the golden headdress,

But late autumn short fight:

Under the sun and rain, the forests will be covered with rust.

Whose menacing shadows swarm around me,

When am I in a hurry to indulge in dreams at the window?

What if in the distance, exploding the fog and darkness,

Like a bright flash, bouquets of flowers and stars,

Suddenly the city shone, sung by poets,

Brilliant! Oh, how I would be glad to have him!

Vision! Inspire and resurrect my genius!

Touch my creations with the breath of the holiday,

Bring back the sparkle of jubilation to my eyes!

And then, disappearing in the dawn twilight,

Palaces and fortresses losing their grandeur,

Preserve the pale contour in the purple haze!

In forest lakes, slumbering in silence,

At the bottom of the human soul

We see the heavens, where the sun's ray plays,

Where gloomy clouds often pass by,

And viscous mud, where the unbearable stench

And black snakes swarm in abundance.

Know the illusory nature of hope, the vanity of greed,

From the yarn of our days, inexorably,

Rotating, the spindle of fate pulls the thread.

But the thread breaks, and we see: happiness is imaginary -

From cradles we are to coffins

Driven by fate.

And the pure ray and the reflections of lightning

Once upon a time I hoped with a blind soul.

And the sky is starry, there are flocks of birds above the sea,

An unprecedented bud, blooming in the shade...

But there are no visions of lines,

Long since decayed!

And if there's anyone next to you

He sadly mourns his dream,

Leave it! Sobs are sweet at times,

Skillfully washing away the dirt from a soiled soul,

And whitens himself with a tear

The offense is heinous.

Louis Charles Alfred de Musset born December 11, 1810 in Paris. Trying not to interfere in political life, remaining aloof from both monarchical and democratic ideas, Musset stands apart in literature. His first collection of poetry, “Spanish and Italian Stories” (1830), is full of vivid images and plots, the characters are endowed with violent passions and strong feelings. This is an example of the new romantic movement in literature. But Musset, unlike other romantics, is alien to spiritualism and religious sentiments. His work is characterized by irony and love of life. Gradually, the tone of his works changes: the motives of rejection of reality, pessimism, and disappointment intensify. Repeatedly, Musset portrays a hero struck by skepticism and unbelief, who does not accept either the past or the future, who is at odds with a society where hypocrisy and hypocrisy reign. Such are the poems “The Mouth and the Cup” (1832), “Rolla” (1833). In his plays, Musset conveys the idea of the impossibility of harmony and the doom of a beautiful ideal - “Venetian Night” (1830), “Andrea del Sarto” (1833), “No joke with love” (1834) Poems “Nights” - “Mayskaya”, “December”, “Augustovskaya”, “Oktyabrskaya” (1835-37) are imbued with melancholy and a feeling of loneliness.

In his most significant novel, “Confession of a Son of the Century” (1836), Musset pursues the idea that young people, seeing around them only evil and betrayal, deception, money-grubbing and self-interest, involuntarily become imbued with disbelief and pessimism. Musset knows no cure for the disease of disappointment and hopelessness.

Musset managed to develop a bright individual style, characterized by lightness and transparency. His poetry is characterized by naturalness of language, absence of pomposity and archaisms, accuracy and figurativeness of comparisons, clarity of thought.

In 1852 Alfred de Musset became a member of the French Academy. The writer died in Paris in 1857.

Musset’s work was highly valued by the classics of Russian literature, in particular, A. S. Pushkin wrote that Musset’s poetry is distinguished by “extraordinary liveliness.”

The poems of Alfred de Musset were translated into Russian by I. Turgenev, V. Kurochkin, A. Apukhtin, V. Bryusov, Vs. Rozhdestvensky, A. Argo and others.

Andalusian

I knew many beauties, but still

The dark-skinned girl is the cutest of all.

She is similar in character to a lioness,

There's a sparkle in the eyes. And the skin

As pale as the sky in autumn.

He dedicated a lot of poems to her.

I sometimes shed blood for her.

And under her window it happened,

Idle - no matter what

See the sparkle of your beloved eyes.

I can bet -

She is only destined to be mine!

And lip-smacking wine,

And the neck is covered in Brabant lace,

A hand in a silk glove...

Everything is getting better day by day!

And I, in the languor of a sweet melancholy,

I listen to her from afar.

I can swear to Castile

Saints to all: so that once

Touch the lace mantilla,

Am I ready to cut off my hand or

I'm ready to tear out my own eye!

What if I were lucky

Squeeze her in your arms, immediately

I would enjoy it to my heart's content and

I would give free rein to my passion -

I will say this without embellishment.

She laughs boisterously

I pulled the stocking over my leg.

And he calls the maids, because he’s very

Her corset is tight and durable

Twisted silk cord.

Follow me, my page! Let's go into ambush

The darkness of the night will save us.

And let our serenade

Hypocrites of Seville and Grenada

They will go crazy with envy!

Lunar Ballad

In the chaos of the night she

There is a fire above the bell tower.

Wants to be the dot over the “i”.

But the evil invisible spirit

Dragging the moon into the darkness.

Yellow flickering speck.

Or maybe the Moon is just a ball,

Which was dragged by a spider

Kill yours? But suddenly…

The ball splashed with fragments,

The moon became a sickle,

Having poured out the fragments completely.

Or maybe a branch or a pole

Did she overlook it in the dark?

The blind Moon walks.

Looks out my window

His only eye squints.

The light in my windows went out...

May night

...On a foggy evening, exhausted from the flight,

A pelican sits in its native reeds.

Hungry chicks brood angry

Runs towards him in bursts.

He hurries to his father, anticipating the spoils,

The deserted shore resounds with a sharp cry

And shaking ridiculous crops.

And so, having climbed onto the rock with difficulty,

Hiding the cruel children under the wing,

He looks with silent longing into the heavens.

Blood flows from the wound onto the black stones.

The fisherman searched in vain sea bottom -

The Ocean did not share a grain with him -

He brought only his heart for food.

With my chest open, in silence

Having given my insides to my sons without hesitation,

In frantic love he drowns the pain.

Bleeding bloody milk, meanwhile,

At your own funeral feast. Selling torment with a yoke,

He is intoxicated with terrible pleasure.

But exhausted in endless torture,

Fears children's careless greed.

And, having interrupted the sacrifice,

Having raised his wings, he soars headlong!

And shaking off the hops of wonderful pleasure,

Such a terrible cry throws into the night,

What drives flocks of surrounding birds away.

And the belated traveler will overcome

Unable to bear fear, he calls on Providence.

Let the helipads have fun at the feasts!

Let the poet taste the gift of his heart.

To be a victim on Art altars

The fate of a poet is an eternal law.

When he sings about love or courage,

About the exploits of the sons of their native country,

Those songs were born in terrible pain.

And each word is like a sharp sword:

Cold steel flashed in my hand,

And scarlet drops remained on the blade...

Yearning

I don't need drunken revelations -

I'm tired of the evil one's fun.

I'm not looking for honor or glory -

I lost faith that I was a genius.

He begged for the friendship of Truth like a beggar.

But, having tasted it, I vaguely sensed

That I have long known the Truth in vain,

And he’s been fed up with it for a long time.

But I am mortal, and Truth is eternal.

Cursed is the one who sometimes carelessly

Rejects her offering.

The Almighty is waiting for an answer to the Word...

To shed tears at times senselessly -

I have only one consolation left.

Charles Marie René Leconte de Lisle b was born on October 22, 1818 on the island. Bourbon (Indian Ocean) in the family of a paramedic in the Napoleonic army and a Creole woman. Received legal education in Brittany, worked in court on the island. Bourbon. Was a participant February Revolution 1848. Fascinated by Fourier’s social and utopian ideas, he was one of the editors of the newspaper “Peaceful Democracy”. He initiated the law abolishing slavery in the colonies.

The preface to the collection “Ancient Poems” (1852) became the manifesto of the poetic group “Parnassus”, originally called the “pagan school”, “school of pure art”, professing the principle of “art for art’s sake”. From the point of view of the “Parnassians”, art is valuable in itself and is an end in itself, it has nothing to do with crude reality and creates a special world. Lecomte de Lisle called for “realizing Beauty,” which lies in a perfect, harmonious form, similar to ancient statues. In antiquity, Lecomte de Lisle saw a prototype of the future.

In the collection “Barbarian Poems” (1862), the poet addresses romantic traditions, to the sculpturality and plasticity of the verse, he adds picturesqueness and dynamism, glorifying the strength and beauty of nature, poeticizing primitive barbarians.

During his lifetime, Charles Lecomte de Lisle was hailed as the “King of Poets.” Since 1886, Lecomte de Lisle has been a member of the French Academy.

Lecomte de Lisle also wrote the tragedy “Erinyes” (1873), the collection “Tragic Poems” (1884), and the posthumous collection “Last Poems” (1895). Lecomte de Lisle died in Louveciennes, near Versailles, in 1894

The poems of Charles Leconte de Lisle were translated into Russian by V. Bryusov, I. Annensky, M. Lozinsky, I. Postupalsky and others.

Elephants

The sand is purple like a sea without borders,

What in the box burns motionless.

And the copper steam swirls over it magnificently,

Forming the contours of brilliant capitals.

Lifeless, silent. Well-fed lion

He sleeps peacefully in the darkness of his cave.

Under the unblinking gaze of the panther

A giraffe drinks, frozen, near a palm tree.

And in the hot, thick air

Birds are unable to flap their wings.

A snake sleeping under the bright rays

It will sparkle with a scaly, patterned side.

At the hour when the heavens are burning with heat,

Everything slumbers in sullen solitude.

Elephants are marching in defiance of simooms

To where the desert strip ends.

Dark hulks, hostages of the sands!

The youngest of a formidable family

With his heavy foot he crushes the dunes -

Creations whimsical of the winds.

They follow the old leader,

Whose black skin was mercilessly gnawed by time.

Like a mountain peak is his crown,

And the sun hides behind the curved ridge.

No stops and no fuss

He leads forward his dusty companions,

Those travelers slow and strong,

That the layers of sand tirelessly furrow.

They wander thoughtfully, closing their eyes.

Trunks hang down, ears flutter lazily...

And hundreds of midges, breaking the silence,

They stab into the sides vying with each other.

But what do they thirst for? What's a fly squeak?

What is the sun burning your backs?

In dreams they will see wonderful pictures:

Fig trees shadow, diamonds of water spray,

In a cool river generated by a glacier,

The clumsy hippopotamus frolics,

Only under the moon will the water turn silver,

Elephants will go to water in silence...

So like a black ribbon across the velvet sand

They are sailing there, towards their cherished dream.

And the desert will become inhospitable again,

And stillness and melancholy will reign.

Bear tears

The Great Hroft descended from the heights of Valhalla.

While he listened to the grumbling of the sea of waters,

The bear's roar, the birch tree's weary cry,

His hair burned in the darkness of the swamps.

The immortal Skald asked: - Tell me boldly,

Was sadness and murmur awakened by witchcraft?

And you, bear, covered with white skin,

From morning to evening you blame who?

Great Hroft! - said the birch.

And the row of pale leaves trembled.

The maiden never saw tears of happiness

Under the gaze of lovers' eyes. Never!

Great Hroft, - the sea rumbled, -

My chest does not know the caresses of summer.

And I don’t know how to sing joyful songs.

Great Hroft! - the bear roared, bristling.

Why should I be a predator?

Out of fear, they put the predator on a leash,

He is not allowed to be serene.

And the immortal Skald took the harp, and the sound of the melody

Winter broke the ninth seal.

The tears of the tree disappeared in the rays of dawn,

The undaunted bear reared up.

Filled with tenderness, he could not hold back his crying.

From the heart of the lover flowed uncontrollably

A stream of bloody tears falls on the white skin.

Last memory

I lived and now I'm dead. I open my eyes and drown,

The forever extinguished vision does not see anything.

Heavy and motionless, I’m getting closer to the bottom.

And the whirlpool, catching me, draws me. So

The flow of cold streams mercilessly carried

Through fear and emptiness, silence and darkness.

Everything is over! But I'm in the grip of strange dreams:

Oh life, what were you? - In a barren winter?

Love? By the light of the stars? - A painful question!

Inexorable decay is my inglorious lot.

And now we can discern the menacing face of oblivion.

Oh, if only I could sleep and have a drunken dream!

But the wound is terrible, this ominous cry?!

Perhaps I was able to survive everything in the past?..

O night of Nothingness! Suddenly I realized the truth:

The one who didn't have a heart broke my heart.

Coronation of Paris

Night one hundred and two of the painful siege,

Night of nights great one winters,

Paris walls in the foam of snowfall,

Raging like breakers.

And involuntarily, with ominous masts,

That the sails were lost in the storm,

Black, thin bell towers seemed

Crosses raised into empty skies.

Ancient mansions look like tombs,

Forests, villages, castles and gardens -

Under the shower of bombs they are destined to smoke,

Wars taste bitter fruits.

In a cramped trench where the walls are frozen,

Gray frost, coming to the call of death,

Pattern covers foreheads, stiff limbs -

The flesh is frozen like the bloody dead.

The barbarians' shells pierced these breasts

And they tore apart brave hearts.

Even though bayonets are still boring their hands,

They received an enviable end.

And the wind, flying over the plain,

Brought curses. With hatred he

Roars and howls. Driven by rage,

He wants to break into the gloomy bastion.

And scourges the clumsy guns,

That they are always awake on the carriages.

And he spits into their gaping mouths.

But the line of guns is motionless.

And with a roar it rolls across the rooftops

Dull and empty houses,

From where we can clearly hear the orphan’s cry,

The lamentations of inconsolable widows can be heard.

Where on the chest of a hungry mother

The baby is freezing. And in anguish

His father bent over him, hopelessly

Weapon clutched in hand...

Charles Baudelaire born on April 17, 1821 in Paris in the family of the head of the bureau of the House of Peers, a former priest, who died when the future poet was not even 6 years old. The mother subsequently married an officer who never approved of either her stepson’s lifestyle or his literary pursuits.

Having graduated from the Royal College in Lyon and enrolled in the Paris School of Law, Baudelaire refused career, deciding to devote himself to creativity. In 1845, Charles Baudelaire published his first book, a collection of art criticism articles, The Salon of 1845. IN next year The Salon of 1846 appeared.

Baudelaire lived and worked in an era when the romantic idea dominated literature. But Baudelaire, as if ahead of his time, embodied the features of decadence, transition period XIX-XX centuries In poetry, Baudelaire adhered to quite traditional forms, giving, in particular, preference to the sonnet. But artistic medium, in contrast to the romantics, for him it is not the opposition of ideal and reality, but the affirmation of the unity or likening of opposites. Life is death, love is hate, beauty is ugliness, etc., and vice versa.

This “law of the Great Analogy” was embodied in the collection “Flowers of Evil” (1857), even in its very title. Initially, intending to challenge society, Baudelaire wanted to call his collection Lesbians.

The collection “Wrecks” (1866) was condemned by a French court after the poet’s death. Almost 100 years later, the French communists achieved a cassation of this verdict, thus removing the stain of a criminal record from Baudelaire.

Charles Baudelaire died in Paris in 1867. His poems were translated into Russian by V. Bryusov, Ellis, A. Efros, I Ozerova and others.

Albatross

Tired of swimming, sometimes just for fun

Sailors will catch huge white birds,

What next to the ship are flying along the surface of the water -

Impassive companions who know no boundaries.

How pathetic the albatross is, it only touches the deck!

When two huge wings are dragging along in vain.

And it seems that he will never return to him again

Former power, former beauty.

Beautiful pilgrim, king of the blue sea,

He suddenly becomes ugly and funny.

They put a pipe in its beak, like a snuff cigarette,

They mock him and depict him hobbling.

You are familiar with storms, you do not know fear.

But expelled from heaven, you are dishonored by the mob,

And your destiny was to only get confused.

Man and the sea

You, Man, will always dream about the sea!

You see the soul reflected in it.

The soul is an abyss, where it is dark and during the day,

The soul is a stronghold and unbroken hold.

When sometimes, admiring your reflection,

You lean over the abyss of the sea,

That heart responds with longing

The call to the seas, to the power of his attraction.

You are both alone, you are anchorites:

The depth of the soul is incalculable,

And do not raise treasures from the bottom -

How jealously you keep secrets!

But you will never close your arms -

There has been hatred between you for centuries,

Oh, eternal enemies, oh, evil brothers!

Conversation

You are like a star in the sleepy skies!

But the ninth wave of sadness rises in the soul,

What, having subsided, on chapped lips

The memories leave bitterness.

Don't caress my breast in vain!

After all, my chest was ruined:

The woman dug everything up with her claws,

And the heart became a treat for the beast.

The palaces of the heart are dishonored by the crowd,

Evil reigns there, vices rule again.

Your aroma flowed in a gentle stream!..

Oh, Beauty, you scourge souls harshly!

You ignite rags with your gaze,

Hiding the beast from time immemorial!

End of the day

In the dim light of day

Life is spinning, frolicking,

Shamelessly beckoning,

Throwing dreams into the dirt.

Day will be followed by night

And will calm everyone down -

Drives hunger away

Sin teaches you to love.

The poet repeats: “Well!

You are a new dream

Don't disturb my heart.

I will find peace

Only in the grave cell.

How beautiful its darkness is!”

Paul Marie Verlaine born on March 30, 1844 in Metz in the family of an officer. After graduating from the Lyceum, he served as an official at the Paris City Hall. He began to write under the influence of the “Parnassians”. But already in the first collections of poetry - “Saturnian Poems” (1866), “Gallant Celebrations” (1869) - the “musicality” of verse inherent in Verlaine is manifested. Along with J. A. Rimbaud and S. Mallarmé, Paul Verlaine became the founder of symbolism, according to the aesthetics of which, external world is only a symbol of the world of ideas; comprehension of this world is possible through intuition.

Most of the poems from the collection " Good song"(1870) is distinguished by the desire to replace the "painting" of verse with "music", which was most fully manifested later in the collection "Romance without Words" (1874)

Subsequently, in the poem “Poetic Art,” included in the collection “Far and Near” (1844), Verlaine formulated his idea of poetry. According to Verlaine, poetry should be like music - ethereal, indefinite, irrational, based on halftones.

IN different time Verlaine tried to find support for himself in the Catholic faith, in peasant labor, in bohemian life. Need, despair, disappointment, addiction to alcohol, and illness undermined the health of the poet, who died in poverty in 1896.

Paul Verlaine enriched the lyrics, revealing new possibilities for the expressiveness of language, giving the verse musicality. Verlaine's poems were translated into Russian by F. Sologub, V. Bryusov, A. Efron, G. Shengeli, E. Linetskaya, Yu. Korneev and others.

Marine

Deceptive fog

And the moon has many faces.

The lord trembles -

Gray Ocean.

Trembling when

Cuts through the dark clouds

Inevitable fire

A series of flashes.

When, running

On treacherous rocks,

The wave is wild

Fights headlong.

When the firmament

Where the lightning walks,

It's barely illuminated

Anticipating the sunrise.

It's time for love

In the hazy skies there is a crimson glare of the moon,

In the meadows, the gray fog began to dance again.

The darkness is rich in sounds at this hour

The frog screams, the trembling reed whispers.

Water lilies sleep with their petals closed,

And the poplars that lined up

In the damp haze they stand like ghosts.

Fireflies wander in the bushes.

And the owls who have awakened cannot bear it -

They are rushing somewhere.

The zenith was filled with unclear lights,

Bright Venus rises. All this is Night...

Sentimental Walk

The ether gave off pale rays,

Sad flowers are rocked by marshmallows.

Sad flowers of snow-white lilies

Wandered along the pond, overwhelmed with melancholy,

I looked for peace among the weeping willows.

But the fog called to the wounded memory,

The fog resurrected the ghosts by accident.

And I cried like a hoopoe,

What cries in anguish calls for his dear one.

By the weeping willows, where I wandered recently,

Overwhelmed by melancholy. Approached smoothly

The twilight of the night is thick,

That covered the ether with a pale wave,

What covered the flowers of snow-white lilies

Among the sleepy waters, in the coastal reeds.

Evening soup

The cramped chamber is dark and the stoves are not lit.

Tired and chilled, the owner returned in the evening.

He is taciturn and won’t say a word during the day.

The wife is afraid, she just shushes the kids.

Once white curtains, chairs and a bed,

A lame table, a broken chest - that's all!

The room is dirty and squalid, cold and stench.

And Poverty tirelessly watches over everyone.

A stately handsome man with an open face, on which

The mind is registered. With a burning, meaningful gaze.

His gaze is gloomy and always full of anxiety...

The wife is beautiful and still young.

But Poverty has already stretched out its right hand over them.

Her sentence is bitter, it is not easy to come to terms with it.

How much more time will pass - a year or two? -

Each of them barely resembles a person.

We sat down at the table, where everyone had their own bowl and spoon.

They have soup for dinner, and also a little meat.

The lamp was lit - but there was a broken cap on the lamp -

The shadows formed an ominous zigzag on the walls.

The children, although pale, are strong and healthy.

The cause of childhood pallor is, of course, not new:

Apparently, the stove often doesn’t light up when it’s cold;

And in the heat, need does not allow you to leave the city.

The flame rushes and the reflections wander everywhere:

Here is a gun that time and rust eat away,

There is a broken chest right there, where, for sure, at the bottom

A couple of brochures are hidden, quite scientific.

If the gendarme decides to search them for an hour,

Then on the bed under a skinny and dusty mattress

He will discover a novel worn to holes,

The book is one of those that makes you swallow a dope.

Spoon after spoon they slurp up the crappy stew.

To get enough, the husband collects scraps

With wild and gloomy view, next to him is a knife -

In the deceptive light he looks like a murderer.

A wife dreams of some old friend,

Happy dandy, rich woman, famous in the area.

The children are tired and rub their eyes with their fists,

The first tear has already fallen into the bowl...

Tristan Corbiere(Edouard Joaquin Corbière) was born on July 18, 1845 in Coat-Congard, a place near Morlaix, in Brittany, in the family of a sailor, writer and journalist Jean Antoine Edouard Corbière (1793-1875), author of numerous travel notes and novels, in including the novel “The Slave Ship” (1832)

Edouard Joaquin's studies were interrupted due to illness, which forced him to live in his father's house in the town of Roscoff on the ocean.

In 1873, Tristan Corbiere published his only book, “Yellow Love,” which included almost all the poems he wrote. The book went unnoticed during the poet's lifetime. Having experienced the influence of Charles Baudelaire, Corbière in many ways anticipated the Symbolists.

Only in 1883, an essay by P. Verlaine about Corbières appeared in the Parisian literary weekly Lutetia, which Verlaine later included in the book “Damned Poets.”

Corbiere's poems were translated into Russian by I. Annensky, I. Tkhorzhevsky, S. Bobrov, B. Livshits and others.

Poet's pipe

I am a poet's pipe. My smoke

Terrible to blind chimeras,

What confuses the poet's thoughts.

But I started smoking, and at once

His mind clears.

And I take him to the light

To the distant gray clouds,

Into the desert to colorful mirages.

He is dreaming, he is happy with his dream!

And if clouds gather,

Familiar ghosts torment -

It digs into my chibouk...

One more breath of smoke

The leash of fate will loosen.

...And I fade away. Peace

Owns my poet.

And tomorrow - dreams are oblivion.

You know, smoke is everything,

If it's true that everything is smoke...

Purely feminine

“Eternal femininity” is for eternal idiots!

That you’re not tired of jumping under a woman’s whip.

Adamov will not abandon the sin of repeating it for the hundredth time -

They sell their soul for their body! Serves it right

To those who are plagued by whims and deceptions,

Who has become a doll, who is ready to spread out the carpet.

Laugh, beauty! No need for charms or dope -

It’s better to become a eunuch than to part with your will later!..

...What are you babbling about?.. Don’t you understand?.. Me too...

I'm drunk on your beauty, oh cruel one! Who

I escaped the sweet blows of your whip!

I won’t even notice how I’ll be defeated one day,

You will raise your sword, although your gaze will remain tender -

Every woman is destined for a similar ending.

Evening greeting

When you come, you will say meaningless phrases,

And, flashing, the mirror will crumble into rhinestones,

Like the light in the gray twilight - into pieces.

You will find hiding places in the fragments of charms.

When you arrive, you will meet a lifeless shadow,

But this day, a drunken, crazy day

You will accept insensitively, sadly,

Like a ray of a long-extinct star.

Now I won't listen to you. Happy

In my heaven you slept naked,

When I was a god!.. But it’s all the same...

Nothing will make me richer

And there is no string in the heart that will cry,

And there are no more songs to be sung.

Vile landscape

Over scattered ashes again

A wave of death knell.

To somehow pass the night,

Worms are eaten by the moon.

Somewhere the damned brownie is sleeping,

The plague grins evilly.

And in the stinking meadow grass

The medicine hare was hidden in the darkness.

Dead men's trousers and blouses

Wagtail laid it out to dry.

The sun looks like a wolf down,

Like little stinking toads

They climbed onto the toadstools to

Sing a mournful vocalise.

Albert Victor Samen born on April 3, 1858 in Lille in the family of a wine merchant. He studied at the Lille Lyceum, at the age of 14 he lost his father and was forced to leave his studies. He served in a banking office in the Paris municipality. In the early 90s. became close to a circle of symbolist poets, and performed reading his poems at the “Black Cat” cabaret. Samen’s first collection, “In the Infanta’s Garden” (1893), brought success to the author. The poems were distinguished by their exquisitely simple form and transparent purity of language. However, the second collection, “On the Edges of a Vase” (1898), went almost unnoticed.

The poet died in 1900. In 1901, a collection of his poems “The Golden Chariot” and a lyrical drama “Polyphemus” were published. In 1902, “Tales and Fairy Tales” were published. In 1924, the collected works of Albert Samen were published in 3 volumes.

Samen's poems were translated into Russian by V. Bryusov, G. Ivanov, I. Tkhorzhevsky, I. Ehrenburg and others.

Amethyst

The ancient evening dragged on. Darkness flooded the hazel tree.

The meek are defeated by God, the formidable gods hastily

Glorious Olympus was abandoned to disappear completely.

And at the foot of Olympus the nymph wept, meanwhile.

And over the raging sea a comforting scarlet dawn

The day was busy. Inexplicable anxieties are full

The branches of the oak trees moved, giving rise to pitch-black visions.

On the consecrated lakes there are corollas of sinless lilies

The Angels filled with light, like beautiful dreams.

The dove’s neck became softer than the dawn sky...

Fragile nymph covering herself long hair blanket,

Pale Flora wove gifts into a wondrous amulet.

Not far away, in the twilight, an inconsolable Faun was hiding,

Tears clouded the bitter eyes of the violet light.

The last of the good times was that feeling, of course...

The antique evening melted away. An alien light reigned.

Ready meal

Oh, daughter! Leave the needle and silk!

It is our duty to meet the owner with dignity.

You will have to spend a lot of effort,

Throw a snow-white tablecloth on the table!

Arrange the dishes and put them in the bowl

Fragrant figs on a grape leaf.

And a peach, whose velvet is like a girl’s skin,

And a handful of grapes that are similar to gold.

And don’t forget to serve slices of bread,

Yes, somehow drive the flies out of the room.

It is hot outside. We'll close the shutters -

Envelops the halls in cool peace.

Let the dining room, plunged into darkness,

Be filled with fruity breath. So,

Go to the yard, scoop up some water there,

The cold water will remain in the jug.

And let the jug remain ice cold,

Let the drops fall from its sides.

Wisdom

The wise old man became like the gods,

That I have comprehended the wondrous secrets of the Universe.

Here, sitting on the moss by the sea bay,

The old man is talking to the shepherd. Silently

Night falls, and over the dark water

The constellations, twinkling, stand in a row...

The beautiful shepherd is wandering somewhere in his mind,

He is paler than moonlight marble.

He doesn't like games and free speeches -

He seeks knowledge like a bubbling stream.

Him who dreams of an ethereal secret,

The old man will pass on his wisdom willingly.

He will tell him about lush flowers,

About the sun, about the snow, about the free winds.

He will teach life to listen to the breath,

And in every object he will indicate the soul.

Bathing in the bay, a round dance shone,

Above them the firmament will glorify the worlds...

And the curious shepherd listens greedily,

But he wants to know more, insatiably

Trying to penetrate everything. At the same time

He longs to rise above everything.

And from the heights to watch the moment,

Obedient to the harsh breeze of times.

In a moment, whose face is under the golden veil,

But a simple mortal cannot stand the sight.

The shepherd shuddered, overwhelmed with delight,

He got up from his seat, laughing and crying.

But the old sage took him by the hand

And he put his finger to his lips. Finally

The shepherd saw his insolence. Severe

The night proclaimed the cherished word:

Thoughts that will inspire pride don’t care

Destined to die in oblivion.

Dead city

Buried forever among the deep sands

The city that was once alive and glorious remains.

He sleeps his last sleep, like ancient Babylon,

And everywhere there is broken marble, like a shroud.

Once upon a time the city bloomed, and above its wall

Victory spread its wings.

The peoples of Asia in a bizarre crowd

They crowded around the gate and the pier.

Now it's empty. Silence forever

He was overcome by hay. And the moon

There is a pious silence over the dry river.

Only on the ruins of the portico is your post

The bronze elephant does not leave. Patiently

He tries to touch the stars with his trunk.

France is a country that is ahead of others. It was here that the first revolutions took place, and not only social, but also literary, which influenced the development of art throughout the world. and poets achieved unprecedented heights. It is also interesting that it was in France that the work of many geniuses was appreciated during their lifetime. Today we will talk about the most significant writers and poets of the 19th century- the beginning of the 20th century, and also lift the veil over interesting moments their lives.

Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885)

It is unlikely that other French poets can match the scope of Victor Hugo. A writer who was not afraid to raise sensitive social topics in his novels, and at the same time a romantic poet, he lived a long life, full of creative success. Hugo was not only recognized as a writer during his lifetime - he became rich by practicing this craft.

After Notre Dame, his fame only grew. Are there many writers in the world who were able to live for 4 years on the street? In the 79th year of his life (on Victor Hugo’s birthday) they erected a triumphal arch- actually under the writer’s windows. 600,000 admirers of his talent passed through her that day. Soon the street was renamed Avenue Victor-Hugo.

Victor Marie Hugo left behind not only wonderful works and a large inheritance, 50,000 francs of which were bequeathed to the poor, but also a strange clause in the will. He ordered the capital of France, Paris, to be renamed Hugopolis. Actually, this is the only point that was not fulfilled.

Théophile Gautier (1811-1872)

When Victor Hugo struggled with classicist criticism, he was one of its most prominent and loyal supporters. French poets received an excellent addition to their ranks: Gautier not only had an impeccable command of writing technique, but also discovered new era in the art of France, which subsequently influenced the whole world.

Having kept his first collection in the best traditions of the romantic style, Théophile Gautier at the same time excluded traditional themes from his poems and changed the vector of poetry. He did not write about the beauty of nature, eternal love and politics. Moreover, the poet declared the technical complexity of the verse to be the most important component. This meant that his poems, while remaining romantic in form, were not essentially romantic - feelings gave way to form.

The last collection, “Enamels and Cameos,” which is considered the pinnacle of Théophile Gautier’s work, also included the manifesto of the “Parnassian school” - “Art.” He proclaimed the principle of “art for art’s sake,” which French poets accepted unconditionally.

Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891)

The French poet Arthur Rimbaud inspired more than one generation with his life and poetry. He ran away from home several times to Paris, where he met Paul Verlaine, sending him the poem “The Drunken Ship.” The friendly relationship between the poets very soon grew into love. This is what caused Verlaine to leave the family.

During Rimbaud’s lifetime, only 2 collections of poetry were published and, separately, his debut poem “The Drunken Ship,” which immediately brought him recognition. It is interesting that the poet’s career was very short: he wrote all his poems between the ages of 15 and 21. And after Arthur, Rimbaud simply refused to write. Flatly. And he became a merchant, selling spices, weapons and... people until the end of his life.

Famous French poets and Guillaume Apollinaire are recognized heirs of Arthur Rimbaud. His work and persona inspired Henry Miller's essay “A Time for Assassins,” and Patti Smith constantly talks about the poet and quotes his poems.

Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)

French poets of the late 19th century chose Paul Verlaine as their “king,” but there was little of a king in him: a rowdy and a reveler, Verlaine described the unsightly side of life - dirt, darkness, sins and passions. One of the “fathers” of impressionism and symbolism in literature, the poet wrote poems, the beauty of which no translation can convey.

No matter how vicious the French poet was, Rimbaud played a huge role in his future fate. After meeting young Arthur, Paul took him under his wing. He looked for housing for the poet, even rented a room for him for some time, although he was not wealthy. Their love affair lasted several years: after Verlaine left the family, they traveled, drank and indulged in pleasure as best they could.

When Rimbaud decided to leave his lover, Verlaine shot him in the wrist. Although the victim refused to make a statement, Paul Verlaine was sentenced to two years in prison. He never recovered after that. Due to the impossibility of refusing the company of Arthur, Rimbaud Verlaine was never able to return to his wife - she obtained a divorce and completely ruined him.

Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)

The son of a Polish aristocrat, born in Rome, Guillaume Apollinaire belongs to France. It was in Paris that he lived his youth and mature years, right up to death. Like other French poets of that time, Apollinaire was looking for new forms and possibilities, striving for shocking - and succeeded in this.

After publication prose works In the spirit of deliberate immoralism and the mini-collection of poetry “Bestiary, or Orpheus’s Cortege,” published in 1911, Guillaume Apollinaire published the first full-fledged collection of poetry, “Alcohols” (1913), which immediately attracted attention for its lack of grammar, baroque images and changes tones.

The collection “Caligrams” went even further - all the poems included in this collection are written in an amazing way: the lines of the works are lined up in different silhouettes. The reader sees a woman in a hat, a dove that flies over a fountain, a vase of flowers... This form conveys the essence of the verse. The method, by the way, is far from new - the British began to give form to poetry in the 17th century, but at that moment Apollinaire anticipated the advent of “automatic writing”, which the surrealists loved so much.

The term “surrealism” belongs specifically to Guillaume Apollinaire. He appeared after the production of his “surrealist drama” “The Tits of Tiresias” in 1917. From that time on, the circle of poets with him at the head began to be called surrealists.

André Breton (1896-1966)

The meeting with Guillaume Apollinaire became significant. This happened at the front, in a hospital, where young Andre, a physician by training, served as an orderly. Apollinaire received a concussion (a shell fragment hit his head), from which he never recovered.

Since 1916, Andre Breton has taken an active part in the work of the poetic avant-garde. He meets Louis Aragon, Philippe Soupault, Paul Eluard, and discovers the poetry of Lautréamont. In 1919, after the death of Apollinaire, shocking poets began to organize around Andre Breton. Also this year, a joint work with Philippe Soupault, “Magnetic Fields,” written using the “automatic writing” method, was published.

Since 1924, after the proclamation of the first Manifesto of Surrealism, Andre Breton became the head of the movement. The Bureau of Surrealist Research opens in his house on Avenue Fontaine, and magazines begin to be published. This was the beginning of a truly international movement - similar bureaus began to open in many cities around the world.

The French communist poet Andre Breton actively campaigned for his supporters to join the Communist Party. He believed so much in the ideals of communism that he was even honored with a meeting with Leon Trotsky in Mexico (although at that time he had already been expelled from the Communist Party).

Louis Aragon (1897-1982)

Apollinaire's faithful ally and comrade-in-arms, Louis Aragon became Andre Breton's right hand. A French poet, a communist until his last breath, in 1920 Aragon published his first collection of poems, Fireworks, written in the style of surrealism and Dada.

After the poet joined Communist Party in 1927, together with Breton, his work was transformed. He in some way becomes the “voice of the party”, and in 1931 he is prosecuted for the poem “Red Front”, imbued with a dangerous spirit of incitement.

Louis Aragon's History of the USSR also belongs to Peru. He defended the ideals of communism until the end of his life, although he last works returned a little to the traditions of realism, not painted in “red.”