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

Glorious Autumn! Healthy, vigorous
Air tired strength invigorates;
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...

Analysis of the poem “Glorious Autumn” by Nekrasov

N. Nekrasov was convinced that the real calling of the poet is to protect the interests common people, a description of his troubles and sufferings, criticism of the unfair situation of the Russian peasantry. Therefore, purely lyrical works are rarely found in his work. But separate landscape sketches confirm Nekrasov’s enormous poetic skill. A small fragment from which the work begins “ Railway"(1864), can be separated into a separate whole poem "Glorious Autumn".

The poet describes the landscape that opens before his eyes from the window of the carriage. A fast-moving picture autumn forest makes him delighted. The lyrical hero regrets that he is watching her from the side and cannot breathe “vigorous air” and “sleep” on a carpet of fallen leaves.

Nekrasov was very fond of using figurative comparisons. In this poem, he compares the ice on the river with “melting sugar,” and the leaves with a “soft bed.” He considers “peace and space” to be one of the main advantages of the surrounding nature. The endlessly changing forests, plains, and rivers are rarely disturbed by human sounds. This benign surrounding picture evokes in the soul lyrical hero peace and quiet bliss.

The invasion of railway transport can be considered a blasphemy against virgin nature, in which “there is no ugliness.” Nekrasov gradually leads the reader to the idea that the construction of the railway upset the fragile natural balance. A beautiful and pure world has been rudely invaded human suffering and grief.

Remaining an ardent patriot of his land, the poet concludes: “I recognize my native Rus' everywhere.” For Nekrasov it was very important to emphasize nationality. He could not abstractly admire nature as a whole, making sure to point out its connection with the long-suffering Russian people. It is the surrounding beauty and harmony that leads the author to deep thoughts about the fate of those people who inhabit this land. He is especially outraged by the sharp contradiction between perfect nature and the plight of the Russian peasantry.

“Glorious Autumn” is a magnificent example of Nekrasov’s landscape lyrics. Even without paying much attention to this genre, the poet, in a fit of inspiration, could create surprisingly heartfelt and deeply lyrical poems.

ON THE. Nekrasov: “Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous air invigorates tired strength...

It's the beginning of September.
Autumn comes into its own, sneaks up unnoticed and penetrates the city squares and streets and parks. This is especially felt in the morning.
You go outside and see the first fallen yellow leaves under your feet. Of course, from mid-August they begin to turn yellow with golden gray on the trees, especially on birches, but everyone thinks that this is not true, because it is still summer outside. And now you look and understand: yes, autumn has come.
I don’t know why, but I fell in love with morning walks and even jogging. Now I enjoy the autumn melancholy, which gives me more strength and energy than summer. Paradox)))
There was one verse that I really like, although it’s about August. Its meaning is that when you live in a village, you notice all the signs and changes in nature. The city is depressing, and apparently that’s why you want to run away from it. And autumn intensifies this desire.
E. Bondareva
He will still pass through steppes and groves,
He will taste the berries in the forest,
Resounds with good songs,
Drinks ripe dew from the leaves.
He will get lost in the fields, forgotten
And he will fall into a deep, childish sleep.
He’ll get up in the morning and won’t stop looking at it
The bins are filled with grain.
Simple, without any special mark,
August appeared in the yard.
They wouldn't even notice him in the city,
If it weren't for the page on the calendar.

So I live in a large metropolis, I don’t notice anything and already long years I dream of getting out into nature for longer, into the forest, field, lake, taking a walk in quiet solitude, thinking about life, healing my wounds, stopping and looking back.

Many people, not just me, now want to sit alone with nature, be silent, look at it, and let it look at you.

But listen to Paustovsky’s words about autumn!

Paustovsky "Distant Years"
“It was already September. Dusk was approaching. Anyone who has not seen the Kyiv autumn will never understand the tender charm of these hours.
The first star lights up in the heights. Autumn lush gardens silently wait for the night, knowing that the stars will definitely fall to the ground and the gardens will catch these stars, like in a hammock, in the thick of their foliage and lower them to the ground so carefully that no one in the city will even wake up or know about it. »

A month ago, my husband and I turned off the Internet and throughout August I didn’t know how to fill the information space.

I read newspapers and magazines in the evenings, and then I discovered the most curious thing for myself - in Okey (a chain of stores) there is a rack at the entrance where you can take any book you like or leave your own, which is no longer needed. And thanks to this book circulation, I touched those books that would never have fallen into my hands under other circumstances. Not because they are not my format, but simply on the Internet there is so much stuff that makes my eyes run wild that it is no longer up to Soviet old books.

I took a book to Okay "You and me"(young family library 1988). This is a somewhat naive book for newlyweds, about love, about family life.

And on the first page I opened “just like that” "autumn" love letters of Paustovsky,just right for my mood and immediately envied him how much fun he was having.

(Paustovsky and Prishvin are two Russian classics that we studied at school. They wrote a lot about nature).

So, at first I glanced through these letters, then I stopped and began to read.

Paustovsky went to the wilderness for inspiration, to the Ryazan region, or rather to Solotcha. And so he writes beautiful letters to his beloved Tatyana. About how he loves her more life etc.

I look at the date - May 1945... It would seem that these letters should be filled military theme, the jubilation of victory, but there is no hint... One love, one feeling of the inner state of the soul. Somewhere I read a phrase a couple of years ago that In Leningrad there lived a couple in love who did not notice the Blockade. Maybe a real Leningrader who lived through the siege will not like this statement, but it seems very meaningful to me.

“It’s four o’clock in the morning, dead silence, only the clock is knocking... On the evening of September 24, I left for Solotcha. I didn't want to stay in Moscow. I wanted solitude - deaf, complete.

I received it beyond measure. I live alone in an empty, abandoned house... Endless cold nights... And all the nights for some reason Sologub’s poems do not leave my memory: “You can’t see a thing in the field. Someone is calling: “Help!” What can I do? I myself am poor, I am mortally tired - how can I help?... The garden outside the windows is already falling with rain, but there are still some small touching flowers left. Here's one of them. AND autumn leaves. This is not sentiment at all. You don’t have our autumn there... It’s three o’clock in the morning. Darkness, wind. I went out into the garden, it was deaf and scary, there were only huge stars in the black sky and fallen leaves rustling under my feet.”

(I’m crazy about this picture, although it’s more from August).

In my opinion, leaving the city and staying on such an “island” with yourself is wonderful!

“On the third day I sent you a second telegram. Then I went into the meadows beyond the old riverbed of the Oka, to the so-called “Island”. (For God’s sake, don’t stop reading the letter at this point; it will be interesting later.) The island is huge, it is surrounded on all sides by water, the Oka River and its old riverbed. It was sunny, a blue day, and there was frost in the shadows. And since I kept thinking about one sweet woman who is now so far away, I wandered until dusk. In the evening I approached the old riverbed and saw that there was no bridge, it was flooded and water was rapidly flowing a meter above it. Only then did I find out that on the Oka, due to the end of navigation, all the locks were opened and the second flood of the Oka, which is usual here in late autumn, began. The water was rising before our eyes, I was alone on the island, it was far from Solotcha. It got dark, clouds gathered, the wind blew up, and thick snow began to fall. And there wasn’t a single haystack nearby. And it was freezing cold. And I realized that I had gotten myself into a very bad situation. And I thought about you all the time. Fortunately, I had matches, I hardly lit a fire, it was noticed from a distance in the evening from the other shore, and the red-haired peasant Lyukhin came for me in a canoe in the darkness and storm. He told me: “It’s a trump card that I noticed you, otherwise by morning the whole island will definitely flood.”

In the morning I looked out of the mezzanine windows - gray Oka water was flowing in waves where the island had been, and in hindsight I became scared. How can one not think about the strangeness of life.”

How reverently he spoke about his third wife Tatyana: " Tenderness, my only person, I swear on my life that such love (without boasting) has never existed in the world. It never was and never will be, all other love is nonsense and nonsense. Let your heart beat calmly and happily, my heart! We will all be happy, everyone! I know and believe... “Probably only in nature such inspired thoughts, stories, images are born. In the city it is difficult to concentrate and write anything.

I often replace trips out of town with a good book (because going out of town is much harder than taking a book off the shelf). But now, while your daughter is little, you don’t really honor her. Therefore, looking back, I want to remember what books I liked, so that someday I could re-read them with my daughters.

First of all, I remember in the fall the story of Leonid Andreev “Bite”. I read it as a child and it stuck with me. It seems to me that it is useful for children to read this, it helps to form in them pity and compassion for our smaller brothers.

( A dog living in an empty country house sees only bad things from people all its life. The owners arrive at the dacha. The dog gets used to them, but in the fall they leave, leaving her alone again).

Platonov’s story “Cow” also seems to me to be autumnal, but this is a completely hopeless story, so I won’t talk about it here. I just think it needs to be read as a classic someday. At school, I think we took Platonov in 7th grade and this story shocked me.

And of course, autumn means Prishvin and my favorite “Pantry of the Sun”. About two independent brothers and sister. My brother fell into a swamp and almost died, but everything ended well.

While I was looking for an illustration, I found a wonderful painting by Inessa Rakhmanova “Pantry of the Sun”.

The beautiful mummy reads Prishvin to the child.

Prishvin has many short stories about the seasons, in particular about autumn.

“Short stories about the nature of the autumn season by Mikhail Mikhailovich Prishvin in the form of notes convey that touching mood of romance and pleasant sadness that hovers in nature in the fall. The first yellow leaves, the wonderful time of golden autumn and the onset of cold weather, the events through which autumn nature, lovingly described in lines by a writer of Russian nature.”

Vitaly Bianchi, Garin-Mikhailovsky and many others also wrote about nature.

Of course autumn mood is conveyed to me in Astafiev’s prose, but there is less lyricism here And more adventures.

Particularly colorful pictures of nature in the film “Taiga Tale” (based on the work of Astafiev). Akimka comes to nature, to spend the winter in a small house, and there lies a dying city girl. Akimka got her out, but it took more than one month. And there are no medicines or help around... mother taiga...

In any case, autumn is the time of dreams, you want more warmth and love. “The colder and more hopeless the darkness outside, the more comfortable the warm soft light in the apartment seems. And if summer is the time to run away from home towards impossible dreams, then late fall- time to return." © Al Quotion

Vania(in a 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

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,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
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! menacing exclamations were heard!
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 our 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 benefits!
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 -
These are all your brothers - 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 share with you...
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
He took out this railway too -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will endure 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 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 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..."

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 a book -
Did you take to the bathhouse, did you lie sick:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...

In a blue caftan is 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 ceremoniously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing O...well done A!..well done A!..

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

Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked 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
With a shout of “Hurray!” rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..

Analysis of the poem “The Railway” by Nekrasov

The overwhelming part of Nekrasov’s work is dedicated to the ordinary Russian people, describing their troubles and suffering. He believed that a real poet should not wander away from reality into romantic illusions. Poem "Railroad" - shining example civil lyrics poet. It was written in 1864 and dedicated to the construction of the Nikolaev railway (1843-1851).

The railway between St. Petersburg and Moscow became a grandiose project. It significantly raised the authority of Russia and reduced the gap with developed European countries.

At the same time, construction was carried out using backward methods. The labor of state and serf peasants was actually slave labor. The state did not take the victims into account; many people died doing hard physical work in unbearable conditions.

The introduction to the work is Nekrasov’s subtle irony. The general calls the builder of the railway not the powerless mass of workers, but Count Kleinmichel, famous for his cruelty.

The first part of the poem is a lyrical description of the beautiful view that opens before the eyes of the train passengers. Nekrasov lovingly depicts the landscape of his “native Rus'”. In the second part there is a sharp change. The narrator shows the general's son scary picture construction of a railway that high society prefers not to see. Behind the movement towards progress are thousands of peasant lives. From all over vast Rus', peasants were gathered here by the “real king” - hunger. Titanic work, like many large-scale Russian projects, literally covered with human bones.

The third part is the opinion of a self-confident general, symbolizing the stupidity and limitations of high society. He believes that illiterate and always drunk men have no value. Only the highest creations of human art are important. In this thought one can easily discern opponents of Nekrasov’s views on the role of the creator in the life of society.

At the request of the general, the narrator shows Vanya the “bright side” of construction. The work is completed, the dead are buried, it’s time to take stock. Russia proves to the world its progressive development. The Emperor and high society are triumphant. Construction site managers and merchants made significant profits. The workers were rewarded... with a barrel of wine and forgiveness of accumulated fines. A timid exclamation of “Hurray!” picked up by the crowd.

The picture of universal final rejoicing is incredibly bitter and sad. Long-suffering Russian people deceived again. The symbolic price of a grandiose construction project (a third of the annual budget Russian Empire), which claimed thousands of lives, was expressed for ordinary workers in a barrel of vodka. They cannot appreciate the real meaning of their work, and therefore they are grateful and happy.

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