But she is dear to me, dear reader. A
Mikhail Leonovich Gasparov, presenting the materials published today at our urgent request, recalled that they were not intended for publication, but were written as an aid - consultations for a colleague: “There is no concept here, just careful reading”.
We believe that this publication will be of interest to a teacher who analyzes poems with his students - that is, most likely to every teacher.
These materials can be used in many ways. For example, invite students to independently answer any of the questions asked by the researcher and compare the results. Or introduce high school students to the article and ask them to think about how the observations made by the scientist affect the perception of the poem. Or just read the publication and, hopefully, have fun, because (we paraphrase the great poet) to follow the thought of a real scientist is “science is the most entertaining”.
M.L. GASPAROV
"Autumn" by A. Pushkin: careful reading
AUTUMN
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October has already come - the grove is already shaking off Now is my time: I do not like spring; How fun, having shod your feet with sharp iron, Oh, summer is red! I would love you Days late autumn they usually scold How can this be explained? I like her, It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes! |
And every fall I bloom again; They lead a horse to me; in the open space, And I forget the world - and in sweet silence <Не вошло в окончательный вариант> Knights of steel, sullen sultans, And the thoughts in my head are agitated in courage, Floats. Where are we going to sail? <Не вошло в окончательный вариант> Hurray! .. where<е>sail ... ... [what] shores |
In Autumn there are eleven stanzas, not counting one discarded and one unfinished. Here is their content:
1. Autumn in its concreteness, the present.
2. Autumn through Contrast: spring and winter.
3. Autumn through Contrast: winter.
4. Autumn through Contrast: summer and winter.
5. Autumn through Similarity: child before dislike.
6. Autumn through Similarity: maiden before death.
7. Autumn in general, always.
8. Me: my inner feelings.
9. Me: my external behavior.
10. Me: my creative experiences.
(10a. I: imagination).
11. Me: creating poetry.
(12. Me: choice of topic.)
The last, 12th stanza breaks off at the initial words - where it comes to the content of the verses, the content of the created world. This is the justification for the subtitle "Excerpt." Both she and another stanza about the same (10a) were written and discarded: the epigraph remained a hint of them “What then does my dormant mind not enter? - Derzhavin "... Probably, this should be understood: the world created by the poet is so great that it defies description.
The grouping of stanzas is partly emphasized by verse and stylistic features.
(1) Poetic size"Autumn" - iambic six-foot; in it, the main sign of rhythm is caesura: the more traditional masculine is felt as firmer, the more innovative feminine - as more fluid and fluid. The number of dactylic caesura by stanzas (including the discarded 10a and the unfinished 12):
1st-7th stanzas - autumn: 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 3, 4;
8-12 stanzas - 2, 3, 3, (6), 3, (4).
In each thematic passage, the dactylic caesura increase from beginning to end. The average number of lines with "romantic" dactylic caesuras is as follows: autumn I – 1; contrast – 2; similarity – 3,5; autumn II– 4, I'm in front of poetry – 3,5; I'm over poetry- 4. The maximum of dactylic caesurs is in stanza 10a; perhaps it seemed to Pushkin excessive, and this is partly why the stanza was discarded. Preparing a rhythmic climax - in stanza 10, dactylic caesuras with inner rhyme: And it awakens ... The soul is shy ...(cf. in stanza 6, before the ending of the first part of the poem - Sometimes I like it ... The poor thing bends ...). The culmination is at the end of stanza 11, the beginning of the creation of the verses: The bulk moved and cut the waves, the dactylic caesura with the unstressed beginning of the second hemistich create a spectacular prolonged unstressed interval. (S.M.Bondi drew attention to the fact that it marks a thematic milestone.)
(2) Faces... Autumn in stanza 1 is presented impersonally, objectively; the only indication of the author is my neighbor... In stanzas-contrasts my goes into I am(2), then in we(3), then in I am and we(4). At the end of contrasts, a second person appears - a rhetorical appeal you summer(4); in similar stanzas it becomes more intimate (you,) reader(5) and you(5-6). Autumn in the 7th stanza is already entirely personally colored: Nice to me yours farewell beauty... The last stanzas, about yourself, of course, all contain I am, but with two curious variations, at the beginning and at the end. In stanza 7, along with I am there is a distance from the reader you: Excuse me ... In stanza 11 I am absent - thoughts, rhymes, pen, poems and the ship exist as if by themselves. And in the beginning stanza 12 instead of I am appears uniting with the reader we: the world of poetry being created existed, as it were, at first only for the poet, then by itself and, finally, for everyone.
(3) Style... Attention is directed to it in the climactic line of stanza 8: ... organism ... unnecessary prose... This encourages listening to stylistic anomalies in other stanzas as well. There are no proseisms in stanza 1. They appear only in contrast stanzas. In the 2nd colloquial prose - stench, dirt- and book - in the presence of the moon... In the 3rd - only spoken: sour(instead of miss). In the 4th impaired colloquial yes dust, yes mosquitoes and book mental ability... After that, the declared "proseism" (bookish) in stanza 8 is the only one: of course, it emphasizes the thematic overlap of this stanza with the "contrasting" stanzas 2–4. Instead, stylistic anomalies become different. Switching point - at stanza 6: semantic shift The grave abyss she does not hear the throat, visual image throat combined with auditory hears... And then, as in the first half of the poem, three stanzas were marked with proseism, so in the second three are marked with tautologies. In the 9th loudly ... the frozen valley is ringing; in the 10th in sweet silence I am sweetly put to sleep, and a lulled soul seeks, as in a dream, to pour out; in the 11th the immovable ship slumbers in the still moisture... (In snippet 12 - Floats. Where are we going to sail?- not a tautology, but also a repetition of a word.) A tautology can be a sign of both colloquial and poetic style; here the context prompts us to see in it a poetic style that contrasts with the initial prosaic one.
So we see that poetic and stylistic signs contribute to the selection of the main thematic parts of the work: "autumn" and "me", "autumn proper" and "contrasts to autumn".
<Художественный мир стихотворения>
Now you can move on to an overview of the artistic world of the poem stanza by stanza.
<1-я строфа. Осень в ее конкретности, теперешняя>
Autumn in the 1st stanza, as it was said, is concrete, present. A specific month is named - October- and verb actions are listed: less often in the past tense (came, breathed, froze, asleep), twice as often in the present (shakes off, freezes, murmurs runs, hurries, suffers, wakes up)... The sensation of time is emphasized by hysterosis ( artistic device anticipation. - Ed.) the grove shakes off the leaves from its naked branches, word naked used in the approximate sense of "naked". The perceptibility of the space is ordered: the sheets to be shaken off are the vertical; road and stream are horizontal lines; pond - horizontal plane; departing fields - an even wider horizontal plane. The stanza began grove(perception through sight), ends oak groves(perceived through hearing). Images of movement alternate with images of rest and are intensified at the same time: shakes off - breathed - (freezes) - runs - (froze) - rushes to mad fun... At the end of the stanza, this tension of movement and rest finds expression in a new dimension - in sound. This increase in the dynamics of meaning is contrasted by an increase in calmness in rhythm: in the first half of the stanza there are two words with a dactylic ending, in the second - five.
The movement of attention in stanza 1 - from natural phenomena to cultural phenomena. The grove is only nature; the road is a trail of culture that has become a part of nature; a mill is already a culture, but a pond with it is a support to culture in summer and a part of nature in winter; a hunter-neighbor is a culture that consumes nature; mentioned unnecessarily winter unite the hunter and the mill into a cultural whole. Half of the stanza is about nature, half is about the neighbor. This introduces the main theme of the poem: nature, autumn as an approach and stimulus to culture, I am... Here, the culture is still consumerist, in stanzas about I am she will become creative. Start ... the grove shakes off refers to "October 19, 1825" as a subtext, the forest drops its crimson dress; and then in the stanzas about I am will appear forgotten camel ... and I am in front of him... referring to blaze, fireplace, in my deserted cell.
<2–4-я строфы. Контраст>
In contrasting stanzas 2-4, the seasons are seen both as part of nature and as part of culture. Spring is the heaviness of nature in a person: I'm sick, blood is fermenting, feelings, mind are cramped by anguish; next to this thaw, stench, dirt mentioned more fluently. Summer is the heaviness of nature around a person: heat, dust, mosquitoes, thirst(consonant verb suffering calculatedly echoes suffer winter); next to this mental ability mentioned only in passing. Winter is the weariness of society with its amusements: sleighs, skates, pancakes and wine: if spring and summer are heavy with an excess of bad, then winter, on the contrary (paradoxically), with an excess of good. Here is the most tangible literary subtext in the poem: "First Snow" by Vyazemsky.
<Уподобительные 5–6-я строфы>
In the similar verses 5-6 (the middle of the poem!), Paradoxical logic reaches its climax. This is underlined: how to explain it? It is based on a natural ethical feeling: "an undeservedly unloved child evokes sympathy", "a virgin doomed to illness and death evokes sympathy." But instead of evokes sympathy said first attracts(this is also ethics), then I (and you) like(this is already aesthetics). Admiration for morbidity is a feature of a new, romantic theme, in the poem it is most frank here. The paradox is shrouded in romantic vagueness: autumn is sweet at first visible beauty, then only understandable a lot of good and finally unspeakable I found something in her... In the literary subtext here is Pushkin's own elegy Alas, why does she shine ... She perceptibly fades... (1820) and, more distantly, the consumptive muse of Delorma-Sainte-Beuve from Pushkin's review of 1831. Transition from children To virgin- with reinforcement: the unloved can be corrected, the doomed irreparably, there is a transitory relationship, here is an existential essence. Along the way, a hint is thrown that child and Virgo can be the same person: halfway between their images, the poet calls himself lover is not vain, although formally he is here the lover of autumn.
<7-я строфа. Осень вообще, всегдашняя>
After such preparation, the second stanza about autumn finally becomes possible - emotional and evaluatively colored. In stanza 1, autumn was specific, the present - in stanza 7 - it is autumn in general, always. There, the picture was built on verbs - here on nouns in a list, and the only verb I love... as if put forward outside the brackets. There the picture came to life from beginning to end (the appearance of a neighbor, and suffer winter), here it becomes more objective and colder (literally and figuratively). The paradox is highlighted in the very first exclamation It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes!(alliteration!); then, weaker, combined lush ... wilting; and, almost imperceptibly, in v crimson and gold clad woods... Crimson (porphyry) and gold are the colors of royal clothes, the disclosure of the word lush; but the crimson is also the consumptive blush, about which it was said in the previous stanza: still crimson plays on the face(An unusual word for complexion; in the Academic Dictionary there were two meanings of it - “scarlet, purple” and “reddish-blue.” After the previous stanza, the logic of the paradox is already clear: “I appreciate the beauty of autumn, because we don't have to admire it for long”; hence the metaphor with a touch of impersonation: farewell beauty.
The movement of attention in stanza 7, as in stanza 1, begins with trees, but does not go down, but up. Instead of a specific October here at the beginning a generalized it's time(with her beauty), then an equally generalized nature; and finally multiple forests less specific than grove and metaphorical crimson and gold- how leaves... To begin with, the moment is taken earlier: the branches are not yet naked, but dressed in bright leaves and called canopy, for the end - apparently, later: not only the first frosts (from which the pond is already frozen etc.), and distant gray winter threats... But there is no temporary transition here, rather it is a timeless coexistence. In between - the wind (noise and freshness), the sky (clouds) and the sun (opposed to the previous haze as a carrier of light, and subsequent frosts - as a carrier of heat). At the beginning of the poem there was an autumn of the earth, now, in the middle, there is an autumn of the sky: the theme of nature rises, as it were, leading to the theme of creativity. Here, for the first time, color appears in the image of nature, until now it has been a colorless drawing. In a figurative sense, color was mentioned in stanza 4, Oh, summer is red!, for the blush of the face - in stanza 6 and finally here.
<8-я строфа. Я: мои внутренние ощущения>
From the already comprehended central paradox comes the thought of strophe 8: "as the beauty of a virgin is more mile before death and the beauty of autumn before winter, so the poet also blooms before winter." Blooming- a metaphor from the natural world, therefore, we mean primarily physical health, and mental health only as a consequence: it is underlined with the final word organism with a comment. In the face of mortal cold, roads become tangible living habits, the three needs of the body: sleep, hunger and carnal desires (blood plays) with their harmony (successively ... successively)... They are accompanied by emotions arising from each other: love of life, lightness, joy, happiness. The verbs that describe this are becoming more dynamic: sleep flies blood plays, desires boil, generalization - I'm full of life again... This again characteristic: the natural world is cyclical in its cycle of extinction and renewal, hence - again ... again ... successively ... successively ... again.
All these sequences are inserted into a non-random box: at the beginning it says that all of this healthy my health, and at the end - that there is a conversation about all this unnecessary, that is, useless prose. This is another step from the natural world, where the main thing is benefit, to the creative world, where there is no benefit and should not be (the theme of "The Poet and the Crowd", 1828). At the word useful named Russian cold- this is a reference to another subtext - the poem “Winter. What should I do in the village? .. "(1829), ending storms of the north are not harmful to the Russian rose, as the Russian virgin is fresh in the dust of the snow!; and before that, it was attended by a neighbor, and hunting, and even attempts at creativity. This epithet Russian- an additional contrast between the natural world and the creative world, in which - as can be seen from the omitted stanzas 10a and 12 - everything is non-Russian: knights, sultans, corsairs, giants, Moldavia, Scotland, Normandy, with only one exception: you my ladies(in the subtext - the metamorphoses of Pushkin's Muse, described in the beginning of Chapter VIII of Onegin).
<9-я строфа. Я: мое внешнее поведение>
Stanza 9 - turning point: it is of two halves, separated by an inconspicuous but(subtle, because the compositional boundary of the octave is not after the 4th, but after the 6th verse). First half - white day, latitude, dynamics; the second half - evening and night, a corner by the fireplace, concentration. The first ends the story about the natural world, the second begins the story about the creative world. In the natural world, the poet's state led to the feeling I'm full of life again: here it is full boils over the edges and finds expression in horseback riding in the expanse of the open... Such a leap was already in stanza 1; but there it was a purposeful action, the hunt of a neighbor, and here it is an action without a goal, only a release of vital forces - we are again confronted with the opposition of practical utility and creative self-purpose. In the description of the jump, a remarkably fast narrowing of space: in the field of view - first everything openness, then only a horse with a rider (a look from the side!), swinging a mane, then only horse hooves, beating into the ice. (The word flashing at the end dol narrower than delight, and additionally neutralized by consonance with the word ice.) This narrowing is accompanied by an exit in shine and sound (and, apparently, a double sound: a ringing scattering along the valley, and a crackle remaining under the hoof). The sound was so far only in the 1st stanza (barking), and shine - only in the 3rd stanza (mirror of the rivers; meekly shining beauty in the 5th stanza clearly does not count).
This glitter image is important because only it binds across the head but two halves of stanza 9. A horse in a wide expanse is nature, a fireplace in a cramped cell is culture. The picture of nature narrowed to the sheen of a horse's hoof; the transition from nature to culture is given through obscurity, the day goes out, and the camel forgotten; the picture of culture begins with the glitter of fire in this hearth. Further, the narrowing of the space continues, but with complications. Fire in the fireplace then a bright light pours, then smolders slowly by narrowing the illuminated space; this is the same life rhythm successively ... successively ... as in stanza 8. I read before him, the field of vision narrows further, only the head with the book remains in it. Or long thoughts in my soul I feed, is it further narrowing or expanding? For doom you don't even need a book soul all inside a person, from the point of view outside world it is a constriction; but the soul itself contains the whole world, and from the point of view of the inner, creative world, this is an expansion; it is underlined by the word long... This interaction of the inner and outer world becomes the theme of the next stanza.
<10-я строфа. Я: мои творческие переживания>
Stanza 10 begins with an inward movement: and forget the world, I go into silence, into a dream. But then there is oncoming traffic, and poetry awakens in me, from dream to reality: verb awakens means animation, movement, disclosure, i.e. ultimately expanding. Both movements, into sleep and from sleep, take place under a common shade (in common environment) imagination. Sandwiched between these movements the soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement, from this trembles and from this sounds- the culmination of tension! There are no words in this sound yet, the words will be in stanza 11. Having reached this ultimate tension, the soul seeks to pour out free manifestation(is it not prosaism?), movement outward, as if over the edge, as between the 8th and 9th stanzas. But then again there is a counter movement, an invisible swarm of guests is coming to me- where? It turns out, from myself, they old[,] fruits of my dreams... What is identical with this dream from the above, with soul or with imagination? According to the meaning of the word - rather with imagination: probably, it is generated by the soul, and then, generated, gets an independent existence, lulls and constrains the soul, etc. It turns out a paradox: not the soul is the container of the imagination, but the imagination is the container of the soul. In this case, an explanation suggests itself: maybe imagination is creative world, already created and existing next to the real, and the current act of autumn creativity - is it just adding new elements to it or ordering those that are already in it?
<Строфа 10а. Я: воображение>
The ones in it has already are listed in dropped stanza 10a. These are the images that inhabit poetry, there are fifteen of them: fourteen fantastic in 5 lines and one realistic - young ladies! - in 3 lines. Fantastic images are opposed to each other in various respects. The knights are opposed to the sultans, as the West is opposed to the East; knights - to monks, as secular - to spiritual; the sultans to the Arap kings, as the whites to the blacks; monks (monks) are probably also associated with black. (The dwarfs among them are not yet clear: whether they are fabulous creatures, or real, albeit exotic, jesters; in any case, associations with "Ruslan and Lyudmila" are undeniable.) The eastern row continues in boldykhany; after the white and black rulers, they are yellow. The western row continues into Greek women with rosary; after heroes secular and spiritual, they combine both qualities. Greek women are opposed to corsairs as the feminine principle to the masculine and passive active; at the same time, they join the western row with the eastern one, combining Western Christianity with Eastern exoticism. (We assume that in corsairs Byronic associations prevail; if memories of Turkish corsairs of the 16th century prevail in them, then the ratios will change.) The western row continues one more step Spaniards in Epanchi(a rare word referring to a new subtext - "The Stone Guest"), this introduces two new dimensions: temporal ( in epanchi- this is a later time than the steel knights in armor) and "internecine" ( in epanchi they no longer fight with the East, but fight each other in duels over the ladies). The series, intermediate between West and East, continues by the Jews, they are similar Greek women with rosary by this function, and opposed to them by faith (and to the corsairs - by non-militaryness). The eastern row itself does not continue, in its place appear heroes and giants and bring new relationships: giants - pure, ahistorical fabulousness (this makes sense dwarfs three lines above: therefore, they are also fabulous), and the heroes for the first time introduce, in addition to the West and the East, a hint of the Russian theme. Finally, on the last line of a long list princess prisoners can be victims of both eastern sultans (etc.), and fairy giants, and countess they have something in common with princesses, but they can already belong not only to exotic, but also to modernity - this is a transition to a contrasting image that balances this entire list: to to my young ladies... Three lines are dedicated to them, they are sharply highlighted by the appeal you..., their portrait is drawn with a gradual approach and enlargement: general appearance, face, eyes; their image doubles, they are both literary heroines and memories of real love: Pushkin was famous as the discoverer of the image county ladies, but this was already in the years of his creative maturity, and the words darlings of my golden dawn refer to his early youth.
<11-я строфа. Я: создание стихов>
Stanza 11 begins again with an alternation of movements from the outside and outside, but twice as fast - in space, not a strophe, but a half-strophe. Three AND... in a row were in stanza 7, the most static; now they appear in the most dynamic stanza, worry ... run ... flow. Thoughts are agitated in courage- it long thoughts from stanza 9 given in lyrical excitement stanzas 10. Rhymes run towards them- first, in line 10, from me to me there was a crowd of extra-verbal images, now - a swarm of consonant words shaping them. Fingers to pen, pen to paper- reciprocal movement outside, moving, moving material objects. Poems will flow- they will be followed by a movement that is no longer material, but materializing. So...- a direct description of creativity is complemented by a description through similarity, as in stanzas 5–6, but four times faster - in the space of not two stanzas, but one half-strophe. There material nature was explained by comparison with man; here human creativity explained by comparison with a real ship. The transition from inaction to action in verses 9-10 was done smoothly, here it is done instantly, through an exclamation but chu !.(Actually, chu! means not “look”, but “listen”: the visible picture of the ship is commented on by a word referring to the internally audible sound of the poems being composed.) The most remarkable thing about this stanza is the complete absence of a pronoun I am: it was in each of the seven preceding stanzas, but here, at the turning point, it disappears, the materializing creative world already exists by itself. (At the beginning of the next stanza it is said about him where should we sail?) - in that we the ship of creativity is also connected (and on it the heroes - the fruits of my dreams?), both a poet and a reader.
<12-я строфа. Я: выбор темы>
The unfinished and discarded beginning of stanza 12 is the choice of the route, that is, the scenery for the poem being composed. All of them are exotic and romantic: first, the Caucasus and Moldova, tested by Pushkin, then, further to the west, untouched Scotland, Normandy (with snow, i.e., probably not the French region, but the land of the Normans, Norway), Switzerland. Scotland is reminiscent of Walter Scott, Switzerland - more likely of Byron "Childe Harold", "Manfred" and "The Prisoner of Chillon" rather than Rousseau and Karamzin. It is curious that most of the named countries are mountainous; however, the sketches contain both Florida and the pyramids (with a picture). Foreign words colossal and landscape emphasize exoticism. Can we expect that this second wave of exoticism would, like the first, in stanza 10a, be interrupted by images analogous to Russian young ladies? Hardly: a ship against a Russian background is impossible. The path of inspiration from autumn Russia to Big world outlined and left to the imagination of the reader. An interesting rethinking of the epigraph: Derzhavin What then does my dormant mind not enter? it opened the ending of Life of Zvansky with reflections on history (and then - on the mortality of everything earthly and the eternity of the poet), in Pushkin it is revealed not in history, but in geography (and then for what?).
Dictionary of nouns
being (habits), world / manifestation
swarm (guests) / bulk
half a year, (whole) century, days, day, minute / time + (annual) times
shores
color, crimson, gold // noise, silence // stink
nature / heaven, sun ray, moon / expanse, dol
moisture, waves // fire, light // dirt, dust
spring + thaw
summer / heat, drought,
winter, frost, snow, snow, ice + river mirror
autumn, October,
forests, oak groves, canopy, grove, branches, leaves / fields4, drifting fields, meadows / stream / rocks, (eternal) snow / landscape
the wind coldness(wind), breath, haze, cold
road / sled run // ship, sails
horse, mane, hoof / dogs barking, bear, den / mosquitoes, flies
hunting / winter / mill, pond
holidays, fun / iron (skates)
resident (dens) / neighbor, acquaintances, guests / sailors, reader
knights, monks, corsairs, tsars, princesses, countesses, sultans, boldikhans / dwarfs, giants / heroes / Greek women, Spaniards, Jews
under sable, in epanchi // pancakes, wine, ice cream // ovens, firewood, glass // pen, paper, rosary
family / lover / child / virgin, young ladies / Armida / old woman (winter),
body / legs, hand, fingers, heart, shoulders, head, temples, face, mouth, eyes / blood
life, dawn (youth), health, sleep, hunger, desires, withering, [consumption] death, (grave) abyss - mouth
soul, mental ability, habits
mind, thought4, thoughts, imagination, dream, its fruits
feelings, (lyr.) excitement, longing, anxiety (holidays), anger, murmurings, threats (winter), courage / poor thing / love (to habits), favorites
(know) honor / beauty, charm
poetry, poems, rhymes, prose
I submit to your judgment my recitation full version
excerpt "Autumn"
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin.
Happy listening ...
Dmitry Eks-Promt
October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn cold has died - the road is freezing.
The stream is still running behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
Into the fields away with desire,
And they suffer from wild amusement,
And the barking of dogs awakens the sleeping oak groves.
Now is my time: I do not like spring;
The thaw is boring to me; stench, dirt - I'm sick in the spring;
Blood ferments; feelings, mind cramped by anguish.
I am more pleased with the harsh winter
I love her snow; in the presence of the moon
Like a light sled run with a friend is fast and free,
When under sable, warm and fresh,
She shakes your hand, blazing and trembling!
How fun, having shod your feet with sharp iron,
Glide on the mirror of stagnant, even rivers!
And the winter holidays are brilliant alarms? ..
But one must know and honor; six months snow and snow,
After all, it is finally for the inhabitant of the den,
The bear will get bored. It's impossible for a whole century
We ride in a sleigh with the Young Armids
Or sour at the ovens behind double glass.
Oh, summer is red! I would love you
If it weren't for the heat, yes, dust, mosquitoes, and flies.
You, ruining all mental abilities,
You torment us; like fields we suffer from drought;
Just how to drink, but refresh yourself -
There is no other thought in us, and it's a pity for the old woman's winter,
And, having passed her with pancakes and wine,
We make her commemoration with ice cream and ice.
The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she is sweet to me, dear reader,
With quiet beauty, shining with humility.
So unloved child in a dear family
It attracts me to itself. To tell you frankly,
From the years of the year, I am glad only for her alone,
There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain
I found something in her a wayward dream.
How can this be explained? I like her,
How likely you are a consumptive maiden
Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death
The poor thing bends down without murmur, without anger.
The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;
She does not hear the mouth of the grave abyss;
The crimson color still plays on the face.
She is still alive today, not tomorrow.
It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the lush wilting of nature,
Crimson and gold-clad forests,
There is noise and fresh breath in their canopy,
And the heavens are covered with a wavy mist,
And a rare sunbeam, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winters are threats.
And every fall I bloom again;
The Russian cold is good for my health;
I again feel love for the habits of being:
Sleep flies in succession, hunger in succession finds;
Blood plays easily and joyfully in the heart,
Desires are boiling - I'm happy again, young,
I am full of life again - this is my body
(Please allow me to forgive unnecessary prose).
They lead a horse to me; in the open space,
Waving his mane, he carries a rider,
And loudly under his shining hoof
The frozen valley is ringing and the ice is cracking.
But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireside
The fire is burning again - then a bright light is pouring,
That smolders slowly - and I read in front of him
Or long thoughts in my soul I feed.
And I forget the world - and in sweet silence
I'm sweetly put to sleep by my imagination
And poetry awakens in me:
The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,
Trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,
Finally pour out free manifestation -
And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,
Old acquaintances, the fruits of my dreams.
And the thoughts in my head are agitated in courage,
And light rhymes run towards them,
And fingers ask to pen, pen to paper,
A minute - and poetry will flow freely.
So the immovable ship slumbers in the still moisture,
But chu! - sailors suddenly rush, crawl
Up, down - and the sails are inflated, the wind is full;
The bulk moved and cut through the waves.
Floats.
Where should we sail ?. ... ... ... ...
"Autumn" Alexander Pushkin
I
October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn cold has died - the road is freezing.
The stream is still running behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
Into the fields away with desire,
And they suffer from wild amusement,
And the barking of dogs awakens the sleeping oak groves.II
Now is my time: I do not like spring;
The thaw is boring to me; stench, dirt - I'm sick in the spring;
Blood ferments; feelings, mind cramped by anguish.
I am more pleased with the harsh winter
I love her snow; in the presence of the moon
Like a light sled run with a friend is fast and free,
When under sable, warm and fresh,
She shakes your hand, blazing and trembling!III
How fun, having shod your feet with sharp iron,
Glide on the mirror of stagnant, even rivers!
And the winter holidays are brilliant alarms? ..
But one must know and honor; six months snow and snow,
After all, it is finally for the inhabitant of the den,
The bear will get bored. It's impossible for a whole century
We ride in a sleigh with the Young Armids
Or sour at the ovens behind double glass.IV
Oh, summer is red! I would love you
If it weren't for the heat, yes, dust, mosquitoes, and flies.
You, ruining all mental abilities,
You torment us; like fields we suffer from drought;
Just how to drink, but refresh yourself -
There is no other thought in us, and it's a pity for the old woman's winter,
And, having passed her with pancakes and wine,
We make her commemoration with ice cream and ice.V
The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she is sweet to me, dear reader,
With quiet beauty, shining with humility.
So unloved child in a dear family
It attracts me to itself. To tell you frankly,
From the years of the year, I am glad only for her alone,
There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain
I found something in her a wayward dream.VI
How can this be explained? I like her,
How likely you are a consumptive maiden
Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death
The poor thing bends down without murmur, without anger.
The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;
She does not hear the mouth of the grave abyss;
The crimson color still plays on the face.
She is still alive today, not tomorrow.Vii
It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the lush wilting of nature,
Crimson and gold-clad forests,
There is noise and fresh breath in their canopy,
And the heavens are covered with a wavy mist,
And a rare sunbeam, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winters are threats.VIII
And every fall I bloom again;
The Russian cold is good for my health;
I again feel love for the habits of being:
Sleep flies in succession, hunger in succession finds;
Blood plays easily and joyfully in the heart,
Desires are boiling - I'm happy again, young,
I am full of life again - this is my body
(Please allow me to forgive unnecessary prose).IX
They lead a horse to me; in the open space,
Waving his mane, he carries a rider,
And loudly under his shining hoof
The frozen valley is ringing and the ice is cracking.
But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireside
The fire is burning again - then a bright light is pouring,
That smolders slowly - and I read in front of him
Or long thoughts in my soul I feed.X
And I forget the world - and in sweet silence
I'm sweetly put to sleep by my imagination
And poetry awakens in me:
The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,
Trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,
Finally pour out free manifestation -
And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,
Old acquaintances, the fruits of my dreams.XI
And the thoughts in my head are agitated in courage,
And light rhymes run towards them,
And fingers ask to pen, pen to paper,
A minute - and poetry will flow freely.
So the immovable ship slumbers in the still moisture,
But chu! - sailors suddenly rush, crawl
Up, down - and the sails are inflated, the wind is full;
The bulk moved and cut through the waves.XII
Floats. Where are we going to sail?
. . . . . . . . . . . .
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Analysis of Pushkin's poem "Autumn"
In an extensive autumn theme A special place in Pushkin's legacy is given to the unfinished work of 1833. In it, the deep connection between seasonal changes in nature and the rise of creative powers, colored by personal experiences, receives a poetic justification.
The beginning stanza opens with a landscape sketch, the concreteness of which is indicated by the lexeme "October", which begins the text. The hero-observer carefully records the natural changes caused by the breath of the "autumn cold": leaf fall ends, the pond is covered with ice, the road is freezing, but the water in the stream has not yet frozen. The enumeration of the exact details of the surrounding space ends with a hunting scene, organized by the neighbor of the lyric "I".
Having parted with the role of a contemplator, in the next three stanzas the subject of speech confidently declares his preferences. Seasonal changes are associated with the characteristics of well-being. Spring melancholy and anxiety give way to persistent thirst and desire for refreshment, generated by summer stuffiness and an abundance of insects. In a kind of ranking of seasons, winter occupies a good position. The narrator is pleased with the cheerful memories of winter fun, but he is not satisfied with the duration of the cold weather. The author's irony grows at the end of the third stanza: to depict boredom, the verb "sour" is chosen, which is typical for colloquial speech. A humorous reappraisal is given to the enthusiastic description of a horse ride in the company of a frivolous friend, presented in the previous episode.
Confidently informing the reader about the positive emotions that the arrival of autumn causes, the lyrical subject explains his position with the help of two comparative phrases. The quiet, humble beauty of the autumn season resonates in the soul. The latter is similar to the sympathy that a child neglected by parents or a terminally ill virgin evokes.
The textbook lines glorifying the attractive power of the "gloomy time" are deliberately deprived of precise detailing of the landscape. The vivid picture, lavishly colored with tsarist shades of gold and crimson, is complicated by a dramatic foreboding of the end, of inevitable fading. The natural background stimulates the hero's physical and mental powers.
The dynamic daytime activities are contrasted with the calm evening environment. The gradual awakening of poetry corresponds to a special detached state, when the mind gives way to the power of the imagination. The beginning of the creative process is like the sailing ship sailing off. The ambiguous open ending is also associated with metaphor creative path like sailing, traveling to an immense fantasy world.
Always excited creative people: folds into poetic lines, is superimposed with paints on canvases, jumps into frames. It and sounds require fixation before the onset of emptyness in Nature. And on this cool October day, we will briefly plunge into the lyrics of poetry and photography of Autumn. Let's start, of course, with Pushkin, and with other poets and photographers of autumn nature.
October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn cold has died - the road is freezing.
The murmur is still running behind the mill stream ...
(A. Pushkin)
Love sublime origins
Forests and pastures are kept.
Invisibly Pushkin's lines
We were entangled in the autumn leaf fall.
(N. Rachkov)
Branches tremble in the dim wind;
Dry leaves, in a dim wind
What do they tell us, they whisper to us what?
The leaves tremble, under the dim wind,
Leaves are babbling in the dim wind
But no one understood the words, no one!
(V. Bryusov)
And in the morning it is very magical
Leaves are spinning in the yard
And, if you fell in love with autumn,
That was in October.
(P. Davydov)
Seductive caresses
Seducing both the forest and the garden,
You are captivating colors
I bloomed their outfit.
With a shining crimson
You removed them in a royal way,
You will rip off with an insidious whim
Lush oak grove robe.
(Konst. Romanov)
When the end-to-end web
Carries the threads of clear days
And under the window of the peasant
The distant gospel is heard more,
We are not sad, scared again
Breath of the approaching winter,
And the voice of the past summer
We understand more clearly.
(Afanasy Fet)
The spruce has become more noticeable in the forest -
Protects the thick shadow.
Boletus last
He pushed his hat to one side.
(A. Tvardovsky)
Autumn just got down to work
I just took out a brush and a chisel,
I put some gilding somewhere,
Here and there I dropped the purple
And hesitated, as if deciding
Should she accept it this way or that way?
It despairs, mixing colors,
And in confusion he will step back ...
It will go to pieces with anger,
It will tear everything with a merciless hand ...
And suddenly, on a painful night,
Will find a stately peace.
(Margarita Aliger)
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.
(N. Nekrasov)
The autumn wind rises in the forests,
It walks noisily through the thickets,
She picks off dead leaves and cheerfully
Carries in a frantic dance.
It just freezes, falls down and listens,
Waving again, and after him
The forest will hum, tremble - and pour
Leaves rain golden.
(Ivan Bunin)
Autumn. Fairy palace
Open for everyone to review.
Forest paths clearings,
Looking into the lakes.
As in the painting exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm, ash, aspen
In unprecedented gilding.
(Boris Pasternak)
There is in the autumn of the initial
Short but wonderful time -
The whole day is like crystal,
And the evenings are radiant ...
There is in the lightness of autumn evenings
Sweet, mysterious charm! ..
Ominous shine and variegation of trees,
Crimson leaves languid, light rustle,
Foggy and quiet azure ...
(Fedor Tyutchev)
And again autumn with a spell of rusty leaves,
Ruddy, scarlet, yellow, gold,
The dumb blue of the lakes, their thick waters,
Nimble whistle and takeoff of tits in the oak forests.
Camel piles of majestic clouds,
The faded azure of cast skies,
The whole circle, the dimension of the cool features,
Ascended vault, starry glory nights.
(Constantin Balmont)
The forest, as if we are looking at a painted one,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
Stands over a bright glade.
(I. Bunin)
The golden foliage swirled
In the pinkish water on the pond
Like a flock of butterflies
With a daze flies to the star.
(S. Yesenin)
Remember everything, how the earth falls asleep,
And the wind falls asleep with foliage.
And in the maple grove it is brighter and brighter.
More and more leaves are flying off the branches.
(Valentin Berestov)
Nature is all full of the last warmth;
Flowers flaunt along the wet between
And on empty fields, dried epics
Entangles a web of quivering cobwebs;
Circling slowly in the calmness of the forest,
A yellow leaf falls to the ground behind a leaf ...
(A. Tolstoy)
And the garden darkens like a dubrova,
And with the stars from the darkness of the night,
Like a glimpse of the glorious past
A golden dome comes out ...
(F. Tyutchev)
Autumn Architecture. Location in it
Airspace, groves, rivers,
The location of animals and people,
When rings fly through the air
And curls of leaves, and a special light, -
Here is what we will choose among others.
(N. Zabolotsky)
The green summer caftan took off,
The larks whistled to their heart's content.
Autumn, dressed in a yellow fur coat,
I walked through the forests with a broom.
(D. Kedrin)
Quiet in the thicket of juniper along the cliff.
Autumn, red mare, scratching her manes.
Over the river bank
The blue clank of her horseshoes is heard.
Shemnik-wind with a careful step
Crumples foliage over road ledges
And kisses on a rowan bush
Red ulcers to the invisible Christ.
(Sergey Yesenin)
The poem in octaves "Autumn" by Alexander Pushkin was written in the fall of 1833 during the poet's second visit to the village. Boldino, upon returning from the Urals.
Both in prose and in poetry, A.S. Pushkin has repeatedly written that autumn is his favorite time of the year, the time of his inspiration, creative upsurge and literary works.
For a reason, the poet was glad of autumn and considered it the time of his heyday: the second autumn of A.S. Pushkin in the Boldino estate, lasting a month and a half, turned out to be no less fruitful and rich in works than the first, epoch-making, Boldinskaya autumn 1830
The most famous excerpt is “A sad time! Charm of the eyes! ", Which is the 7th octave of the poem" Autumn ", belongs to the landscape lyrics of Alexander Pushkin. The lines of the passage represent a complete picture, realistically accurately conveying the awakening of poetry in the soul of a poet inspired by his beloved at times.
The verse size of the passage is iambic six-foot; the verse of the poem is an octave.
It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes!
The work "Autumn", and in particular an excerpt, was not published during the life of the author; it was first published by V. A. Zhukovsky in the posthumous collection of works by A. Pushkin in 1841.
We bring to your attention and the text of the poem in full:
October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn cold has died - the road is freezing.
The stream is still running behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
Into the fields away with desire,
And they suffer from wild amusement,
And the barking of dogs awakens the sleeping oak groves.
Now is my time: I do not like spring;
The thaw is boring to me; stench, dirt - I'm sick in the spring;
Blood ferments; feelings, mind cramped by anguish.
I am more pleased with the harsh winter
I love her snow; in the presence of the moon
Like a light sled run with a friend is fast and free,
When under sable, warm and fresh,
She shakes your hand, blazing and trembling!
How fun, having shod your feet with sharp iron,
Glide on the mirror of stagnant, even rivers!
And the winter holidays are brilliant alarms? ..
But one must know and honor; six months snow and snow,
After all, it is finally for the inhabitant of the den,
The bear will get bored. It's impossible for a whole century
We ride in a sleigh with the Young Armids
Or sour at the ovens behind double glass.
Oh, summer is red! I would love you
If it weren't for the heat, yes, dust, mosquitoes, and flies.
You, ruining all mental abilities,
You torment us; like fields we suffer from drought;
Just how to drink, but refresh yourself -
There is no other thought in us, and it's a pity for the old woman's winter,
And, having passed her with pancakes and wine,
We make her commemoration with ice cream and ice.
The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she is sweet to me, dear reader,
With quiet beauty, shining with humility.
So unloved child in a dear family
It attracts me to itself. To tell you frankly,
From the years of the year, I am glad only for her alone,
There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain
I found something in her a wayward dream.
How can this be explained? I like her,
How likely you are a consumptive maiden
Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death
The poor thing bends down without murmur, without anger.
The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;
She does not hear the mouth of the grave abyss;
The crimson color still plays on the face.
She is still alive today, not tomorrow.
It's a sad time! enchantment of the eyes!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the lush wilting of nature,
Crimson and gold-clad forests,
There is noise and fresh breath in their canopy,
And the heavens are covered with a wavy mist,
And a rare sunbeam, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winters are threats.
And every fall I bloom again;
The Russian cold is good for my health;
I again feel love for the habits of being:
Sleep flies in succession, hunger in succession finds;
Blood plays easily and joyfully in the heart,
Desires are boiling - I'm happy again, young,
I am full of life again - this is my body
(Please allow me to forgive unnecessary prose).
They lead a horse to me; in the open space,
Waving his mane, he carries a rider,
And loudly under his shining hoof
The frozen valley is ringing and the ice is cracking.
But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireside
The fire is burning again - then a bright light is pouring,
That smolders slowly - and I read in front of him
Or long thoughts in my soul I feed.
And I forget the world - and in sweet silence
I'm sweetly put to sleep by my imagination
And poetry awakens in me:
The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,
Trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,
Finally pour out free manifestation -
And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,
Old acquaintances, the fruits of my dreams.
And the thoughts in my head are agitated in courage,
And light rhymes run towards them,
And fingers ask to pen, pen to paper,
A minute - and poetry will flow freely.
So the immovable ship slumbers in the still moisture,
But chu! - sailors suddenly rush, crawl
Up, down - and the sails are inflated, the wind is full;
The bulk moved and cut through the waves.
Floats. Where should we sail ?. ... ... ... ...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
