Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous air invigorates tired forces (c). Nekrasov poems and about autumn

Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on a chilly river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet faded,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -
Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts.

The compositional integrity of the landscape sketch that begins the famous “Railway” of 1864 allows us to distinguish the poetic fragment as an independent work. Its main theme is the colorful beauty of “clear, quiet” autumn days, which has a beneficial effect on well-being. Due to its optimistic mood and sense of cheerfulness, the tonality of Nekrasov’s creation comes close to the feelings of Pushkin’s hero, who welcomed the arrival of the “Russian cold” - refreshing, rejuvenating, restoring the taste for life.

The author endows the image of autumn with the evaluative epithet “glorious”. The latter not only reflects admiration, but also emphasizes the high, energetic mood of the lyrical subject. Explaining the exclamation of approval that opens the text, the hero talks about the healing power of fresh air. Here we also use the common vernacular “vigorous”, which is unusual for a poetic style. The combination of a “fresh” word with the lexemes “healthy” and “invigorates” creates a concentration of the sounds “r” and “o”. The means of sound recording support the impression of the life-giving influence of autumn weather.

To characterize natural objects, the poet resorts to original comparisons: thin ice is like “melting sugar”, a lush layer of fallen leaves is like a carpet or bed. The listed examples can be considered as a single combination, united by the semantics of home comfort. The cleanliness and freshness of calm, welcoming nature is akin to the comfort of a human home.

The anaphora that begins the third quatrain continues with a phrase about cold nights and fine days. It is similar in meaning to the remark about the refreshing effect of air placed in the beginning. This technique, which actually expands the boundaries of lexical anaphora, gradually leads the reader to a philosophical generalization. The lyrical subject sees harmony even in the most prosaic details: hummocks, swamps, stumps. It is interesting that positive emotions are transmitted through denial, indicating the absence of “ugliness” in the pictures of the native landscape.

The final episode concretizes the features of the observer's position. It turns out that he is thoughtfully contemplating the views of nature from the train window. The long journey along the “cast iron rails” also explains the change in time of day: from daylight, allowing you to see the yellowness of the leaves, to the “moonlight”, the flickering of which gives a mysterious beauty to ordinary hills and swamps. The motif of rapid movement, indicated by the verb “flying,” precedes the main theme of “The Railway.”

Glorious Autumn

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces;

Fragile ice on the icy river

It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,

You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not yet had time to fade,

Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights

Clear, quiet days...

There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,

And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,

Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...

I fly quickly on cast iron rails,

I think my thoughts...

N. Nekrasov

Golden autumn

Autumn. Fairytale palace

Open for everyone to review.

Clearings of forest roads,

Looking into the lakes.

Like at a painting exhibition:

Halls, halls, halls, halls

Elm, ash, aspen

Unprecedented in gilding.

Linden gold hoop -

Like a crown on a newlywed.

The face of a birch tree - under a veil

Bridal and transparent.

Buried land

Under leaves in ditches, holes.

In the yellow maple outbuildings,

As if in gilded frames.

Where are the trees in September

At dawn they stand in pairs,

And the sunset on their bark

Leaves an amber trail.

Where you can't step into a ravine,

So that everyone doesn't know:

It's so raging that not a single step

There is a tree leaf underfoot.

Where it sounds at the end of the alleys

Echo at a steep descent

And dawn cherry glue

Solidifies in the form of a clot.

Autumn. Ancient Corner

Old books, clothes, weapons,

Where is the treasure catalog

Flipping through the cold.

B. Pasternak

The plums in the garden are falling,

A noble treat for the wasps...

A yellow leaf took a swim in the pond

And welcomes early autumn.

He imagined himself as a ship

The wind of wanderings rocked him.

So we will swim after him

To piers unknown in life.

And we already know by heart:

In a year there will be a new summer.

Why is there universal sadness?

In every line of poetry by poets?

Is it because there are traces in the dew?

Will the rains wash away and the winters freeze?

Is it because all moments are

Fleeting and unique?

L. Kuznetsova

"Autumn. Silence in the dacha village..."

Autumn. Silence in the dacha village,

And deserted and ringing on earth.

Cobwebs in the transparent air

Cold as a crack in glass.

Through the sandy pink pines

The roof with the cockerel is turning bluish;

In a light haze the velvet sun -

Like a peach touched with fluff.

At sunset, lush but not harsh,

The clouds are waiting for something, frozen;

Holding hands, they radiate shine

The last two, the most golden ones;

Both turn their faces to the sun,

Both fade at one end;

The eldest carries the feather of the firebird,

The youngest is the fluff of a fire chick.

N. Matveeva

Overnight

October!.. The trees are waiting for snow,

The river floods have quieted down while locked up...

I chose a haystack for myself for the night

Where night found me on my way.

Like fireflies in a slumbering swamp,

The stars trembled in the black heights;

The earth, chilled in its night flight,

In a dream she snuggled affectionately against me.

And I covered my feet with dry straw

And putting a gun under my head,

I warmed myself up and soon little by little

He warmed up the huge one...

The dawn flowed through the gaps in the leaden clouds,

For the whole day, for many, many years

The earth gave me the sun again,

From the dark night

At dawn!

“Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous..." (excerpt from the poem "Railroad")

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces;

Fragile ice on a chilly river

It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,

You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not yet faded,

Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet...

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights

Clear, quiet days...

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Vania (in the coachman's jacket) Dad! who built this road? Dad (In a coat with a red lining) Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear! (conversation in the carriage) 1 Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous Air invigorates tired forces; The fragile ice lies on the chilly river, like melting sugar; Near the forest, as if in a soft bed, you can sleep - peace and space! The leaves have not yet had time to fade; they lie yellow and fresh, like a carpet. Glorious autumn! Frosty nights, Clear, quiet days... There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi, And moss swamps, and stumps - Everything is fine under the moonlight, I recognize my native Rus' everywhere... I quickly fly along cast-iron rails, I think my thoughts... 2 Good dad! Why keep Smart Vanya in his charm? Let me show him the truth in the moonlight. This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous - it’s not enough for one person! There is a king in the world: this king is merciless, Hunger is his name. He leads armies; Rules ships at sea; herds people into the artel, walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders of stonemasons and weavers. It was he who drove the masses of people here. Many - in a terrible struggle, having called upon these barren wilds in life, found a coffin here for themselves. The road is straight: narrow embankments, posts, rails, bridges. And on the sides there are all Russian bones... So many of them! Vanechka, do you know? Chu, there were menacing exclamations! Stomping and gnashing of teeth; A shadow ran across the frosty glass... What's there? Crowd of the dead! Either they overtake the cast-iron road, or they run sideways. Do you hear the singing?..."On this moonlit night, We love to see our work! We toiled under the heat, under the cold, With our backs always bent, We lived in dugouts, struggled with hunger, We were frozen and wet, we suffered from scurvy. The literate people robbed us - foremen, the authorities flogged us, need was pressing... We, God's warriors, have endured everything, Peaceful children of labor! Brothers! You are reaping our fruits! We are destined to rot in the earth... Do you still remember us, the poor, kindly? Or have you forgotten long ago? ..." Do not be horrified by their wild singing! From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka, from different ends of the great state - That's all! your brothers are men! It’s a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove, You’re no longer small!.. With Russian hair, You see, standing, exhausted with fever, A tall, sick Belarusian: Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids, Ulcers on skinny arms, Standing forever in knee-deep water, Legs swollen; tangles in hair; I'm digging into my chest, which I've been diligently leaning on the spade all my life, day after day... Look at him, Vanya, carefully: It was hard for the man to earn his bread! He hasn’t straightened his hunchbacked back even now: he’s stupidly silent And with a mechanical rusty shovel he’s hammering away at the frozen ground! It wouldn’t be a bad thing for us to adopt this noble habit of work... Bless the people’s work And learn to respect the peasant. Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland... The Russian people have endured enough, They have endured this railway road - They will endure everything that God sends! He will endure everything - and pave a wide, clear path for himself. It’s just a pity - neither I nor you will have to live in this beautiful time. 3 At that moment a deafening whistle squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared! “I saw, dad, an amazing dream,” Vanya said, “five thousand men, representatives of Russian tribes and breeds. Suddenly they appeared - and he told me: “Here they are, the builders of our road!..”” The general laughed! “I was recently within the walls of the Vatican, I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights, I saw St. Stephen in Vienna, Well... did the people create all this? Excuse me for this impudent laugh, Your logic is a little wild. Or is Apollo Belvedere Worse than the stove for you? pot? Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths, a miracle of art - they took everything away! " - “I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...” But the general did not allow any objection: “Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German Do not create - destroy the master, Barbarians! A wild bunch of drunkards!.. However, it’s time to take care of Vanya; You know, It’s a sin to outrage a child’s heart with the spectacle of death and sadness. Now would you show the child the Light Side..." 4 - “I’m glad to show you! Listen, my dear: the fatal labors are over - the German is already laying the rails. The dead are buried in the ground; the sick are hidden in dugouts; the working people have gathered in a close crowd at the office... They scratched their heads tightly: Each contractor must stay, Steel a kopeck's worth of days off! The foreman wrote everything down in the book - Whether he took it to the bathhouse, or whether he was sick. “Maybe there is a surplus here now, but here you go!.." - they waved their hand... In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet farmer, Fat, stocky, red as copper, A contractor is riding along the line on holiday, Going to see his work. The idle people make way decorously... The merchant wipes the sweat from his face And says, with his arms akimbo, picturesque: “Okay... that's great... well done! ... well done!... With God, now go home - congratulations! (Hats off - if I speak!) I put out a barrel of wine to the workers And - I give the arrears..." Someone shouted "hurray", They picked it up Louder, more friendly, more drawn out... Lo and behold: With a song, the foremen rolled the barrel... Here and the lazy man could not resist! The people unharnessed the horses - and the merchant raced along the road with a shout of “Hurray”... It seems that it is difficult to draw a more gratifying picture, general?.. (1864)

Notes

Published according to Article 1873, vol. II, part 4, p. 127-137, with correction of the epigraph according to S.

Included in the collected works for the first time: Art. 1869, part 4, with the date: “1864”, with the restoration of the censorship pass Art. 25-28 (reprinted: St. 1873, vol. II, part 4). The subtitle in St. 1879 was removed, obviously, at the direction of the poet.

K.I. Chukovsky believed that the concept of the work dates back to the very beginning of the 1860s. (PSS, vol. II, p. 681). In this edition the date is adopted: "1864" (according to Article 1869).

The epigraph in Sovremennik ended with the words: “Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling!”; in other lifetime and posthumous editions it was: “Engineers, darling!” This change is obviously censorship. Thus, the report of the censor F.P. Yelenev dated November 24, 1865 said: “Although the direct meaning of this epigraph in connection with the poem does not contain an insult to the former chief manager of communications, some may see here a different, hidden meaning; In any case, such display of the names of senior government officials is extremely inappropriate" (quoted from: Gin M. From fact to image and plot. M., 1971, p. 191). For the text of the epigraph, see: Gin M. M. About the originality of Nekrasov’s realism. Petrozavodsk, 1966, p. 160, 165 (in defense of the Kleinmichel option); Bukhshtab V. Ya. Notes on the texts of Nekrasov's poems. -In the book: Publishing of classical literature. From the experience of the "Poet's Library". M., 1963, p. 260-266 (in defense of the “Engineers” option), M. M. Gin believes that “behind Kleinmichel<...>there are too powerful shadows: with the creation of the first large railway in Russia, one way or another, both Russian tsars are connected - the “deceased” Nicholas I and the reigning Alexander II.” (Gin M. From fact to image and plot, p. 201).

The first Nikolaevskaya (now Oktyabrskaya) railway in Russia between Moscow and St. Petersburg, the builder of which was considered the chief manager of communications, Count P. A. Kleinmichel, was built in 1842-1852. Nekrasov shows who actually built this road and how. In May 1864, the censorship committee banned the publication of The Railway, because here “the picture of the torment experienced by the working people during the construction of railways is explained to the general’s son; the general, a representative of a different way of life, a different class, laughs at the fate of the workers...” (Evgeniev-Maksimov V. Nekrasov as a person, journalist and poet. L., 1928, p. 237).

In 1865, Nekrasov took advantage of the magazine’s exemption from preliminary censorship and published the poem in Sovremennik, however, throwing out some harsh passages and assigning it to another era by means of the date “1855”. Despite this, a member of the council of the Main Directorate for Press Affairs, Martynov, described the “Railway” as follows: “The author claims that the people employed at work “found their coffin here,” that the rails of the road, instead of pillows, are reinforced almost on “Russian bones.” "that the authorities" flogged the people, giving them the right to "freeze and die from scurvy in dugouts"<...>Finally, in the epigraph it is mentioned, a thing known to everyone, that the main builder of the road was Count Kleinmichel, obviously with the aim of arousing indignation in readers against this name, counting on the terrible effectiveness of the poem ... " (Evgeniev-Maksimov V. The last years of Sovremennik. L., 1939, p. 107). December 4, 1865 Minister of the Interior GG. A. Valuev ordered: “Taking into account that<...>in the poem “The Railway” the construction of the Nikolaev railway is depicted as a result of the oppression of the people and the construction of railways in general is presented as if accompanied by grave consequences for the workers, the Minister of Internal Affairs determined: “announce a second warning to the Sovremennik magazine in the person of the publisher-editor, the nobleman Nikolai Nekrasov "" (ibid., pp. 110-111). This put the magazine at risk, since after the third warning it was subject to closure.

The poem is thematically close to what N. A. Dobrolyubov ("The Experience of Weaning People from Food", 1860), V. A. Sleptsov ("Vladimirka and Klyazma", 1861) and others wrote about the conditions of railway construction. numerous and varied materials related to railway construction in Russia (see: Garkavi A. M. More about the sources of the poem "Railroad". - About Nekr., II, p. 291-295). But, of course, the meaning of Nekrasov’s work is broader: thoughts about the fate of the people in the past, present and future, depictions of different aspects of the life of the people and a look at them from different points of view. This determines a very complex form of the poem, where a landscape sketch, elements of a ballad, a song, a lively argument, and a satirical picture appear in organic unity.

"The Railway" had a tremendous revolutionary impact on readers, especially young people. “I was then in the last class of a military gymnasium,” recalls G. V. Plekhanov. “We sat after lunch in a group of several people and read Nekrasov. As soon as we graduated from “The Railway,” a signal rang out calling us to a front-line exercise<...>When we began to line up, my friend S. came up to me and, clutching a gun barrel in his hand, whispered: “Oh, I wish I could take this gun and go fight for the Russian people!” (Plekhanov G.V. Literature and Aesthetics, vol. 2. M., 1958, p. 199).

I saw St. Stephen in Vienna... - St. Stephen's Cathedral is an architectural landmark of Vienna, founded in the 12th century, and took on its modern appearance in the 14th-15th centuries.

Or is Apollo Belvedere worse than a stove pot for you?- The general paraphrases Pushkin’s lines from the poem “The Poet and the Crowd” (1828).

Thermal Baths- ancient Roman baths.

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...

Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
You will allow me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous -
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
In life, calling upon these barren wilds,
They found a coffin for themselves here.

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu, there were menacing exclamations!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!

Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?..."On this moonlit night,
We love to see your work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet, and suffered from scurvy.

The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! you are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..."

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
This is all! your brothers are men!

It's a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove,
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;

I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!

I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to adopt...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.

Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
Took this railroad out -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - the builders of our road!.."
The general laughed!

"I was recently within the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
It’s a miracle of art - he took everything away!”
- “I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side..."

- "I'm glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything into the book -
Did he take you to the bathhouse, or was he lying sick?
"Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Yes, here you go!..” - they waved their hand...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing... well done!... well done!...

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - I give the arrears..."

Someone shouted “hurray”, They picked it up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!

The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
Shouting “hurray” he rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..

Could you please help me make a plan for the poem Nekrasov's Railway