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Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov
Who can live well in Rus'?
© Lebedev Yu. V., introductory article, comments, 1999
© Godin I.M., heirs, illustrations, 1960
© Design of the series. Publishing house "Children's Literature", 2003
* * *
Yu. Lebedev
Russian Odyssey
In the “Diary of a Writer” for 1877, F. M. Dostoevsky noticed characteristic feature, which appeared among the Russian people of the post-reform period - “this is a multitude, an extraordinary modern multitude of new people, a new root of Russian people, who need truth, one truth without conditional lies, and who, in order to achieve this truth, will give everything decisively.” Dostoevsky saw in them “the advancing future Russia.”
At the very beginning of the 20th century, another writer, V. G. Korolenko, made a discovery that struck him from a summer trip to the Urals: “At the same time as in the centers and at the heights of our culture they were talking about Nansen, about Andre’s bold attempt to penetrate in a balloon to North Pole - in the distant Ural villages there was talk about the Belovodsk kingdom and their own religious-scientific expedition was being prepared.” Among ordinary Cossacks, the conviction spread and strengthened that “somewhere out there, “beyond the distance of bad weather,” “beyond the valleys, beyond the mountains, beyond the wide seas,” there exists a “blessed country,” in which, by the providence of God and the accidents of history, it has been preserved and flourishes throughout integrity is the complete and complete formula of grace. This is a real fairy-tale country of all centuries and peoples, colored only by the Old Believer mood. In it, planted by the Apostle Thomas, true faith blooms, with churches, bishops, patriarchs and pious kings... This kingdom knows neither theft, nor murder, nor self-interest, since true faith gives birth there to true piety.”
It turns out that back in the late 1860s, the Don Cossacks corresponded with the Ural Cossacks, collected quite a significant amount and equipped them to search for this promised land Cossack Varsonofy Baryshnikov with two comrades. Baryshnikov set off through Constantinople to Asia Minor, then to the Malabar coast, and finally to the East Indies... The expedition returned with disappointing news: it failed to find Belovodye. Thirty years later, in 1898, the dream of the Belovodsk kingdom flares up with renewed vigor, funds are found, and a new pilgrimage is organized. On May 30, 1898, a “deputation” of Cossacks boarded a ship departing from Odessa for Constantinople.
“From this day, in fact, the foreign journey of the deputies of the Urals to the Belovodsk kingdom began, and among the international crowd of merchants, military men, scientists, tourists, diplomats traveling around the world out of curiosity or in search of money, fame and pleasure, three natives, as it were, got mixed up from another world, looking for ways to the fabulous Belovodsk kingdom.” Korolenko described in detail all the vicissitudes of this unusual journey, in which, despite all the curiosity and strangeness of the conceived enterprise, the same Russia of honest people, noted by Dostoevsky, “who need only the truth”, who “have an unshakable desire for honesty and truth”, appeared indestructible, and for the word of truth each of them will give his life and all his advantages.”
By the end of the 19th century, not only the top of Russian society was drawn into the great spiritual pilgrimage, all of Russia, all of its people, rushed to it. “These Russian homeless wanderers,” Dostoevsky noted in a speech about Pushkin, “continue their wanderings to this day and, it seems, will not disappear for a long time.” For a long time, “for the Russian wanderer needs precisely universal happiness in order to calm down - he will not be reconciled cheaper.”
“There was approximately the following case: I knew one person who believed in a righteous land,” said another wanderer in our literature, Luke, from M. Gorky’s play “At the Depths.” “There must, he said, be a righteous country in the world... in that land, they say, special people inhabit... good people! They respect each other, they simply help each other... and everything is nice and good with them! And so the man kept getting ready to go... to look for this righteous land. He was poor, he lived poorly... and when it was so difficult for him that he could even lie down and die, he did not lose his spirit, and everything happened, he just grinned and said: “Nothing!” I'll be patient! A few more - I’ll wait... and then I’ll give up this whole life and - I’ll go to the righteous land...” He had only one joy - this land... And to this place - it was in Siberia - they sent an exiled scientist... with books, with plans he, a scientist, with all sorts of things... The man says to the scientist: “Show me, do me a favor, where the righteous land lies and how to get there?” Now it was the scientist who opened his books, laid out his plans... he looked and looked - no nowhere is there a righteous land! “Everything is true, all the lands are shown, but the righteous one is not!”
The man doesn’t believe... There must be, he says... look better! Otherwise, he says, your books and plans are of no use if there is no righteous land... The scientist is offended. My plans, he says, are the most faithful, but there is no righteous land at all. Well, then the man got angry - how could that be? Lived, lived, endured, endured and believed everything - there is! but according to plans it turns out - no! Robbery!.. And he says to the scientist: “Oh, you... such a bastard!” You are a scoundrel, not a scientist...” Yes, in his ear - once! Moreover!.. ( After a pause.) And after that he went home and hanged himself!”
The 1860s marked a sharp historical turning point in the destinies of Russia, which henceforth broke with the legal, “stay-at-home” existence and the whole world, all the people set out on a long path of spiritual quest, marked by ups and downs, fatal temptations and deviations, but the righteous path lies precisely in passion , in the sincerity of his inescapable desire to find the truth. And perhaps for the first time, Nekrasov’s poetry responded to this deep process, which covered not only the “tops”, but also the very “bottoms” of society.
1
The poet began work on the grandiose plan of a “people's book” in 1863, and ended up mortally ill in 1877, with a bitter awareness of the incompleteness and incompleteness of his plan: “One thing I deeply regret is that I did not finish my poem “To whom in Rus' to live well". It “should have included all the experience given to Nikolai Alekseevich by studying the people, all the information about them accumulated “by word of mouth” over twenty years,” recalled G. I. Uspensky about conversations with Nekrasov.
However, the question of the “incompleteness” of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is very controversial and problematic. Firstly, the poet’s own confessions are subjectively exaggerated. It is known that a writer always has a feeling of dissatisfaction, and the larger the idea, the more acute it is. Dostoevsky wrote about The Brothers Karamazov: “I myself think that not even one tenth of it was possible to express what I wanted.” But on this basis, do we dare to consider Dostoevsky’s novel a fragment of an unrealized plan? It’s the same with “Who Lives Well in Rus'.”
Secondly, the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'” was conceived as an epic, that is piece of art, depicting with the maximum degree of completeness and objectivity an entire era in the life of the people. Since folk life is limitless and inexhaustible in its countless manifestations, the epic in any of its varieties (poem-epic, novel-epic) is characterized by incompleteness and incompleteness. This is its specific difference from other forms of poetic art.
"This tricky song
He will sing to the end of the word,
Who is the whole earth, baptized Rus',
It will go from end to end."
Her Christ-pleaser himself
He hasn’t finished singing - he’s sleeping in eternal sleep -
This is how Nekrasov expressed his understanding of the epic plan in the poem “Peddlers.” The epic can be continued indefinitely, but it is also possible to put an end to some high segment of its path.
Until now, researchers of Nekrasov’s work are arguing about the sequence of arrangement of parts of “Who Lives Well in Rus',” since the dying poet did not have time to make final orders in this regard.
It is noteworthy that this dispute itself involuntarily confirms the epic nature of “Who Lives Well in Rus'.” The composition of this work is built according to the laws of classical epic: it consists of separate, relatively autonomous parts and chapters. Outwardly, these parts are connected by the theme of the road: seven truth-seekers wander through Rus', trying to resolve the question that haunts them: who can live well in Rus'? In the “Prologue” there seems to be a clear outline of the journey - a meeting with a landowner, an official, a merchant, a minister and a tsar. However, the epic lacks a clear and unambiguous sense of purpose. Nekrasov does not force the action and is in no hurry to bring it to an all-resolving conclusion. As an epic artist, he strives to completely recreate life, to reveal all the diversity folk characters, all the indirectness, all the winding of folk paths, paths and roads.
The world in the epic narrative appears as it is - disordered and unexpected, devoid of linear movement. The author of the epic allows for “digressions, trips into the past, leaps somewhere sideways, to the side.” According to the definition of the modern literary theorist G.D. Gachev, “the epic is like a child walking through the cabinet of curiosities of the universe. One character, or a building, or a thought caught his attention - and the author, forgetting about everything, plunges into it; then he was distracted by another - and he gave himself up to him just as completely. But this is not just a compositional principle, not just the specificity of the plot in the epic... Anyone who, while narrating, makes “digressions”, lingers on this or that subject for an unexpectedly long time; the one who succumbs to the temptation to describe both this and that and is choked with greed, sinning against the pace of the narrative, thereby speaks of the wastefulness, the abundance of being, that he (being) has nowhere to rush. In other words: it expresses the idea that being reigns over the principle of time (while the dramatic form, on the contrary, emphasizes the power of time - it is not for nothing that a seemingly only “formal” demand for the unity of time was born there).
The fairy-tale motifs introduced into the epic “Who Lives Well in Rus'” allow Nekrasov to freely and easily deal with time and space, easily transfer the action from one end of Russia to the other, slow down or speed up time according to fairy-tale laws. What unites the epic is not the external plot, not the movement towards an unambiguous result, but the internal plot: slowly, step by step, the contradictory but irreversible growth of national self-awareness, which has not yet come to a conclusion, is still on the difficult roads of quest, becomes clear. In this sense, the plot-compositional looseness of the poem is not accidental: it expresses through its disorganization the variegation and diversity of people’s life, which thinks about itself differently, evaluates its place in the world and its purpose differently.
In an effort to recreate the moving panorama of folk life in its entirety, Nekrasov also uses all the wealth of oral folk art. But the folklore element in the epic also expresses the gradual growth of national self-awareness: the fairy-tale motifs of the “Prologue” are replaced by the epic epic, then by lyrical folk songs in “The Peasant Woman” and, finally, with the songs of Grisha Dobrosklonov in “A Feast for the Whole World,” striving to become popular and already partially accepted and understood by the people. The men listen to his songs, sometimes nod in agreement, but they have not yet heard the last song, “Rus”: he has not yet sung it to them. And therefore the ending of the poem is open to the future, not resolved.
If only our wanderers could be under one roof,
If only they could know what was happening to Grisha.
But the wanderers did not hear the song “Rus”, which means they did not yet understand what the “embodiment of people’s happiness” was. It turns out that Nekrasov did not finish his song not only because death got in the way. People’s life itself did not finish singing his songs in those years. More than a hundred years have passed since then, and the song begun by the great poet about the Russian peasantry is still being sung. In “The Feast,” only a glimpse of the future happiness is outlined, which the poet dreams of, realizing how many roads lie ahead before its real embodiment. The incompleteness of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is fundamental and artistically significant as a sign of a folk epic.
“Who Lives Well in Rus'” both as a whole and in each of its parts resembles a peasant lay gathering, which is the most complete expression of democratic people's self-government. At such a meeting, residents of one village or several villages included in the “world” resolved all issues of joint worldly life. The gathering had nothing in common with a modern meeting. The chairman leading the discussion was absent. Each community member, at will, entered into a conversation or skirmish, defending his point of view. Instead of voting, the principle of general consent was in effect. The dissatisfied were convinced or retreated, and during the discussion a “worldly verdict” matured. If there was no general agreement, the meeting was postponed to the next day. Gradually, during heated debates, a unanimous opinion matured, agreement was sought and found.
A contributor to Nekrasov’s “Domestic Notes”, the populist writer N. N. Zlatovratsky described the original peasant life this way: “This is the second day that we have had gathering after gathering. You look out the window, now at one end, now at the other end of the village, there are crowds of owners, old people, children: some are sitting, others are standing in front of them, with their hands behind their backs and listening attentively to someone. This someone waves his arms, bends his whole body, shouts something very convincingly, falls silent for a few minutes and then starts convincing again. But suddenly they object to him, they object somehow at once, their voices rise higher and higher, they shout at the top of their lungs, as befits such a vast hall as the surrounding meadows and fields, everyone speaks, without being embarrassed by anyone or anything, as befits a free a gathering of equal persons. Not the slightest sign of formality. Foreman Maxim Maksimych himself stands somewhere on the side, like the most invisible member of our community... Here everything goes straight, everything becomes an edge; If anyone, out of cowardice or calculation, decides to get away with silence, he will be mercilessly exposed. And there are very few of these faint-hearted people at especially important gatherings. I saw the most meek, most unrequited men who<…>at gatherings, in moments of general excitement, they were completely transformed and<…>they gained such courage that they managed to outdo the obviously brave men. At the moments of its apogee, the gathering becomes simply an open mutual confession and mutual exposure, a manifestation of the widest publicity.”
Nekrasov’s entire epic poem is a flaring up worldly gathering that is gradually gaining strength. It reaches its peak in the final "Feast for the Whole World." However, a general “worldly verdict” is still not passed. Only the path to it is outlined, many initial obstacles have been removed, and on many points a movement towards general agreement has been identified. But there is no conclusion, life has not stopped, gatherings have not stopped, the epic is open to the future. For Nekrasov, the process itself is important here; it is important that the peasantry not only thought about the meaning of life, but also set out on a difficult, long path of truth-seeking. Let's try to take a closer look at it, moving from “Prologue. Part one" to "The Peasant Woman", "The Last One" and "A Feast for the Whole World".
2
In the "Prologue" the meeting of seven men is narrated as a great epic event.
In what year - calculate
Guess what land?
On the sidewalk
Seven men came together...
So the epics and fairy-tale heroes for a battle or a feast of honor. Time and space acquire an epic scope in the poem: the action is carried out throughout Rus'. The tightened province, Terpigorev district, Pustoporozhnaya volost, the villages of Zaplatovo, Dyryavino, Razutovo, Znobishino, Gorelovo, Neelovo, Neurozhaina can be attributed to any of the Russian provinces, districts, volosts and villages. The general sign of post-reform ruin is captured. And the question itself, which excited the men, concerns all of Russia - peasant, noble, merchant. Therefore, the quarrel that arose between them is not an ordinary event, but great debate. In the soul of every grain grower, with his own private destiny, with his own everyday interests, a question arose that concerns everyone, the entire people's world.
Each one in his own way
Left the house before noon:
That path led to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
Baptize the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two Gubina brothers
So easy with a halter
Catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It's high time for everyone
Return on your own way -
They are walking side by side!
Each man had his own path, and suddenly they found a common path: the question of happiness united the people. And therefore, before us are no longer ordinary men with their own individual destiny and personal interests, but guardians for the entire peasant world, truth-seekers. The number “seven” is magical in folklore. Seven Wanderers– an image of great epic proportions. The fabulous flavor of the “Prologue” raises the narrative above everyday life, above peasant life and gives the action an epic universality.
The fairy-tale atmosphere in the Prologue has many meanings. Giving events a national sound, it also turns into a convenient method for the poet to characterize national self-consciousness. Let us note that Nekrasov plays with the fairy tale. In general, his treatment of folklore is more free and relaxed compared to the poems “Peddlers” and “Frost, Red Nose”. Yes, and he treats the people differently, often makes fun of the peasants, provokes readers, paradoxically sharpens the people's view of things, and laughs at the limitations of the peasant worldview. The intonation structure of the narrative in “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is very flexible and rich: there is the author’s good-natured smile, condescension, light irony, a bitter joke, lyrical regret, grief, reflection, and appeal. The intonation and stylistic polyphony of the narrative in its own way reflects the new phase of folk life. Before us is the post-reform peasantry, which has broken with the immovable patriarchal existence, with the age-old worldly and spiritual settled life. This is already a wandering Rus' with awakened self-awareness, noisy, discordant, prickly and unyielding, prone to quarrels and disputes. And the author does not stand aside from her, but turns into an equal participant in her life. He either rises above the disputants, then becomes imbued with sympathy for one of the disputing parties, then becomes touched, then becomes indignant. Just as Rus' lives in disputes, in search of truth, so the author is in an intense dialogue with her.
In the literature about “Who Lives Well in Rus'” one can find the statement that the dispute between the seven wanderers that opens the poem corresponds to the original compositional plan, from which the poet subsequently retreated. Already in the first part there was a deviation from the planned plot, and instead of meeting with the rich and noble, truth-seekers began to interview the crowd.
But this deviation immediately occurs at the “upper” level. For some reason, instead of the landowner and the official whom the men had designated for questioning, a meeting takes place with a priest. Is this a coincidence?
Let us note first of all that the “formula” of the dispute proclaimed by the men signifies not so much the original intention as the level of national self-awareness that manifests itself in this dispute. And Nekrasov cannot help but show the reader its limitations: men understand happiness in a primitive way and reduce it to a well-fed life and material security. What is it worth, for example, such a candidate for the role of a lucky man, as the “merchant” is proclaimed, and even a “fat-bellied one”! And behind the argument between the men - who lives happily and freely in Rus'? - immediately, but still gradually, muffled, another, much more significant and important question arises, which makes up the soul of the epic poem - how to understand human happiness, where to look for it and what does it consist of?
In the final chapter, “A Feast for the Whole World,” the following assessment is given through the mouth of Grisha Dobrosklonov current state national life: “The Russian people are gathering strength and learning to be citizens.”
In fact, this formula contains the main pathos of the poem. It is important for Nekrasov to show how the forces that unite them are maturing among the people and what civic orientation they are acquiring. The intention of the poem is by no means limited to forcing the wanderers to carry out successive meetings according to the program they have planned. Much more important here is a completely different question: what is happiness in the eternal, Orthodox Christian understanding and are the Russian people capable of combining peasant “politics” with Christian morality?
Therefore, folklore motifs in the Prologue play a dual role. On the one hand, the poet uses them to give the beginning of the work a high epic sound, and on the other hand, to emphasize the limited consciousness of the disputants, who deviate in their idea of happiness from the righteous to the evil paths. Let us remember that Nekrasov spoke about this more than once for a long time, for example, in one of the versions of “Song to Eremushka,” created back in 1859.
Pleasures change
Living does not mean drinking and eating.
There are better aspirations in the world,
There is a nobler good.
Despise the evil ways:
There is debauchery and vanity.
Honor the covenants that are forever right
And learn them from Christ.
These same two paths, sung over Russia by the angel of mercy in “A Feast for the Whole World,” are now opening up before the Russian people, who are celebrating a funeral service and are faced with a choice.
In the middle of the world
For a free heart
There are two ways.
Weigh the proud strength,
Weigh your strong will:
Which way to go?
This song sounds over Russia, coming to life from the lips of the messenger of the Creator himself, and the fate of the people will directly depend on which path the wanderers take after long wanderings and meanderings along Russian country roads.
For now, the poet is pleased only by the very desire of the people to seek the truth. And the direction of these searches, the temptation of wealth at the very beginning of the journey, cannot but cause bitter irony. Therefore, the fairy-tale plot of the “Prologue” is also characterized by the low level of peasant consciousness, spontaneous, vague, with difficulty making its way to universal issues. The people's thought has not yet acquired clarity and clarity; it is still fused with nature and is sometimes expressed not so much in words as in action, in deed: instead of thinking, fists are used.
Men still live by the fairy-tale formula: “go there - I don’t know where, bring that - I don’t know what.”
They walk as if they are being chased
After them gray wolves,
What's further is quick.
…
I would probably kiss you the night
So they walked - where, not knowing...
Is this why an alarming, demonic element grows in the Prologue? “The woman you meet,” “the clumsy Durandikha,” turns into a laughing witch in front of the men’s eyes. And Pakhom wanders his mind for a long time, trying to understand what happened to him and his companions, until he comes to the conclusion that the “goblin played a nice joke” on them.
The poem makes a comic comparison of a men's argument with a bullfight in a peasant herd. And the cow, which had gotten lost in the evening, came to the fire, stared at the men,
I listened to crazy speeches
And began, my heart,
Moo, moo, moo!
Nature responds to the destructiveness of the dispute, which develops into a serious fight, and in the person of not so much good as its sinister forces, representatives of folk demonology, classified as forest evil spirits. Seven eagle owls flock to watch the arguing wanderers: from seven large trees “the midnight owls laugh.”
And the raven, a smart bird,
Arrived, sitting on a tree
Right by the fire,
Sits and prays to the devil,
To be slapped to death
Which one!
The commotion grows, spreads, covers the entire forest, and it seems that the “forest spirit” itself laughs, laughs at the men, responds to their squabble and massacre with malicious intentions.
A booming echo woke up,
Let's go for a walk,
Let's go scream and shout
As if to tease
Stubborn men.
Of course, the author's irony in the Prologue is good-natured and condescending. The poet does not want to judge men harshly for the wretchedness and extreme limitations of their ideas about happiness and a happy person. He knows that this limitation is associated with the harsh everyday life of a peasant, with such material deprivations in which suffering itself sometimes takes on unspiritual, ugly and perverted forms. This happens whenever the people are deprived of their daily bread. Let us remember the song “Hungry” heard in “The Feast”:
The man is standing -
It's swaying
A man is coming -
Can't breathe!
From its bark
It's unraveled
Melancholy-trouble
Exhausted...
3
And in order to highlight the limitations of the peasant understanding of happiness, Nekrasov brings the wanderers together in the first part of the epic poem not with a landowner or an official, but with a priest. The priest, a spiritual person, closest to the people in his way of life, and due to his duty called upon to guard a thousand-year-old national shrine, very accurately compresses the vague ideas about happiness for the wanderers themselves into a capacious formula.
– What do you think is happiness?
Peace, wealth, honor -
Isn't that right, dear friends? -They said: “Yes”...
Of course, the priest himself ironically distances himself from this formula: “This, dear friends, is happiness according to you!” And then, with visual convincingness, he refutes with all his life experience the naivety of each hypostasis of this triune formula: neither “peace,” nor “wealth,” nor “honor” can be placed as the basis of a truly human, Christian understanding of happiness.
The priest's story makes men think about a lot. The common, ironically condescending assessment of the clergy here reveals itself to be untrue. According to the laws of epic storytelling, the poet trustingly surrenders to the priest’s story, which is constructed in such a way that behind the personal life of one priest, the life of the entire clergy rises and stands tall. The poet is in no hurry, does not rush with the development of the action, giving the hero full opportunity to express everything that lies in his soul. Behind the life of the priest, the life of all of Russia in its past and present, in its different classes, is revealed on the pages of the epic poem. Here are dramatic changes in the noble estates: the old patriarchal-noble Rus', which lived sedentarily and was close to the people in morals and customs, is becoming a thing of the past. The post-reform waste of life and the ruin of the nobles destroyed its centuries-old foundations and destroyed the old attachment to the family village nest. “Like the Jewish tribe,” the landowners scattered throughout the world and adopted new habits, far from the Russians. moral traditions and legends.
In the priest’s story, a “great chain” unfolds before the eyes of savvy men, in which all the links are firmly connected: if you touch one, it will respond in the other. The drama of the Russian nobility brings with it drama into the life of the clergy. To the same extent, this drama is aggravated by the post-reform impoverishment of the peasant.
Our villages are poor,
And the peasants in them are sick
Yes, women are sad
Nurses, drinkers,
Slaves, pilgrims
And eternal workers,
Lord give them strength!
The clergy cannot be at peace when the people, their drinker and breadwinner, are in poverty. And the point here is not only the material impoverishment of the peasantry and nobility, which entails the impoverishment of the clergy. The priest's main problem lies elsewhere. The man’s misfortunes bring deep moral suffering to sensitive people from the clergy: “It’s hard to live on pennies with such labor!”
It happens to the sick
You will come: not dying,
The peasant family is scary
At that hour when she has to
Lose your breadwinner!
Give a farewell message to the deceased
And support in the remaining
You try your best
The spirit is cheerful! And here to you
The old woman, the mother of the dead man,
Look, he's reaching out with the bony one,
Calloused hand.
The soul will turn over,
How they jingle in this little hand
Two copper coins!
The priest’s confession speaks not only about the suffering that is associated with social “disorders” in a country that is in a deep national crisis. These “disorders” that lie on the surface of life must be eliminated; a righteous social struggle against them is possible and even necessary. But there are also other, deeper contradictions associated with the imperfection of human nature itself. It is these contradictions that reveal the vanity and slyness of people who strive to present life as sheer pleasure, as a thoughtless intoxication with wealth, ambition, and complacency that turns into indifference to one’s neighbor. The priest in his confession deals a crushing blow to those who profess such morality. Talking about parting words to the sick and dying, the priest speaks of the impossibility peace of mind on this earth for a person who is not indifferent to his neighbor:
Go where you are called!
You go unconditionally.
And even if only the bones
Alone broke, -
No! gets wet every time,
The soul will hurt.
Don't believe it, Orthodox Christians,
There is a limit to habit:
No heart can bear
Without any trepidation
Death rattle
Funeral lament
Orphan's sadness!
Amen!.. Now think,
What's the peace like?..
It turns out that a person completely free from suffering, living “freely, happily” is a stupid, indifferent person, morally defective. Life is not a holiday, but hard work, not only physical, but also spiritual, requiring self-denial from a person. After all, Nekrasov himself affirmed the same ideal in the poem “In Memory of Dobrolyubov,” the ideal of high citizenship, surrendering to which it is impossible not to sacrifice oneself, not to consciously reject “worldly pleasures.” Is this why the priest looked down when he heard the question of the peasants, which was far from the Christian truth of life - “is the priest’s life sweet” - and with the dignity of an Orthodox minister addressed the wanderers:
... Orthodox!
It is a sin to grumble against God,
I bear my cross with patience...
And his whole story is, in fact, an example of how every person who is ready to lay down his life “for his friends” can bear the cross.
The lesson taught to the wanderers by the priest has not yet benefited them, but nevertheless brought confusion into the peasant consciousness. The men unitedly took up arms against Luka:
- What, did you take it? stubborn head!
Country club!
That's where the argument gets into!
"Nobles of the bell -
The priests live like princes."
…
Well, here's what you've praised
A priest's life!
The author’s irony is not accidental, because with the same success it was possible to “finish” not only Luka, but also each of them separately and all of them together. The peasant scolding here is again followed by the shadow of Nekrasov, who laughs at the limitations of the people’s original ideas about happiness. And it is no coincidence that after meeting with the priest, the behavior and way of thinking of the wanderers changes significantly. They become more and more active in dialogues, and intervene more and more energetically in life. And the attention of wanderers is increasingly beginning to be captured not by the world of masters, but by the people’s environment.
The history of the creation of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” begins in the late 1850s, when Nekrasov came up with the idea of a large-scale epic work, summing up his entire creative and life experience as a revolutionary poet. Author for a long time collects material based on both his own personal experience communication with the people, and the literary heritage of their predecessors. Before Nekrasov, many authors addressed the life of the common people in their works, in particular I.S. Turgenev, whose “Notes of a Hunter” became one of the sources of images and ideas for Nekrasov. He developed a clear idea and plot in 1862, after the abolition of serfdom and land reform. In 1863 Nekrasov got to work.
The author wanted to create an epic “folk” poem with a detailed picture of the life of various layers of Russian society. It was also important for him that his work be accessible to the common people, to whom he addressed first of all. This determines the composition of the poem, which was conceived by the author as cyclic, a meter close to the rhythm of folk tales, a unique language replete with sayings, sayings, “common” and dialect words.
The creative history of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” includes almost fourteen years of intensive work by the author, collecting materials, developing images, and adjusting the original plot. According to the author's plan, the heroes, having met not far from their villages, were supposed to make a long journey through the entire province, and at the end reach St. Petersburg. While on the road, they talk with a priest, a landowner, and a peasant woman. In St. Petersburg, travelers were supposed to meet with an official, a merchant, a minister and the tsar himself.
As he wrote individual parts of the poem, Nekrasov published them in the journal Otechestvennye zapiski. In 1866, the Prologue appeared in print; the first part was published in 1868, then in 1872 and 1873. The parts “Last One” and “Peasant Woman” were published. The part entitled “A Feast for the Whole World” never appeared in print during the author’s lifetime. Only three years after Nekrasov’s death, Saltykov-Shchedrin was able to print this fragment with large censored notes.
Nekrasov did not leave any instructions regarding the order of the parts of the poem, therefore it is customary to publish it in the order in which it appeared on the pages of “Notes of the Fatherland” - “Prologue” and the first part, “The Last One”, “Peasant Woman”, “Feast for the Whole World” " This sequence is the most adequate from the point of view of composition.
Nekrasov's serious illness forced him to abandon the original plan of the poem, according to which it should have consisted of seven or eight parts and included, in addition to pictures of rural life, scenes of St. Petersburg life. It was also planned that the structure of the poem would be based on the changing seasons and agricultural seasons: travelers set off in early spring, spent the whole summer and autumn on the road, reached the capital in winter and returned to their native places in the spring. But the history of writing “Who Lives Well in Rus'” was interrupted in 1877 with the death of the writer.
Anticipating the approach of death, Nekrasov says: “The one thing I deeply regret is that I did not finish my poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'.” Realizing that his illness does not leave him enough time to complete his plan, he is forced to change his original plan; he quickly reduces the narrative to an open ending, in which, however, he still demonstrates one of his brightest and most significant heroes - commoner Grisha Dobrosklonov, who dreams of the good and happiness of the entire people. It was he, according to the author’s idea, who should have become the very lucky one that the wanderers are looking for. But, not having time for a detailed disclosure of his image and history, Nekrasov limited himself to a hint of how this large-scale epic should have ended.
Work test
Who can live well in Rus'?
Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov
“Who Lives Well in Rus'” is Nekrasov’s final work, a folk epic, which includes the entire centuries-old experience of peasant life, all the information about the people collected by the poet “by word” for twenty years.
Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov
Who can live well in Rus'?
PART ONE
In what year - calculate
Guess what land?
On the sidewalk
Seven men came together:
Seven temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
From adjacent villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
There is also a poor harvest,
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'?
Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
Luke said: ass.
To the fat-bellied merchant! -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Old man Pakhom pushed
And he said, looking at the ground:
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king...
The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock them out: they resist,
Everyone stands on their own!
Is this the kind of argument they started?
What do passers-by think?
You know, the kids found the treasure
And they share among themselves...
Each one in his own way
Left the house before noon:
That path led to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
Baptize the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two Gubina brothers
So easy with a halter
Catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It's high time for everyone
Return on your own way -
They are walking side by side!
They walk as if they are being chased
Behind them are gray wolves,
What's further is quick.
They go - they reproach!
They scream - they won’t come to their senses!
But time doesn’t wait.
They didn’t notice the dispute
As the red sun set,
How evening came.
I'd probably kiss you all night
So they went - where, not knowing,
If only they met a woman,
Gnarled Durandiha,
She didn’t shout: “Reverends!
Where are you looking at night?
Have you decided to go?..”
She asked, she laughed,
Whipped, witch, gelding
And she rode off at a gallop...
“Where?..” - they looked at each other
Our men are here
They stand, silent, looking down...
The night has long since passed,
The stars lit up frequently
IN high heavens,
The moon has surfaced, the shadows are black
The road was cut
Zealous walkers.
Oh shadows! black shadows!
Who won't you catch up with?
Who won't you overtake?
Only you, black shadows,
You can't catch it - you can't hug it!
To the forest, to the path-path
Pakhom looked, remained silent,
I looked - my mind scattered
And finally he said:
"Well! goblin nice joke
He played a joke on us!
No way, after all, we are almost
We've gone thirty versts!
Now tossing and turning home -
We're tired - we won't get there,
Let's sit down - there's nothing to do.
Let's rest until the sun!..”
Blaming the trouble on the devil,
Under the forest along the path
The men sat down.
They lit a fire, formed a formation,
Two people ran for vodka,
And the others as long as
The glass was made
The birch bark has been touched.
The vodka arrived soon.
The snack has arrived -
The men are feasting!
They drank three kosushki,
We ate and argued
Again: who has fun living?
Free in Rus'?
Roman shouts: to the landowner,
Demyan shouts: to the official,
Luka shouts: ass;
Kupchina fat-bellied, -
The Gubin brothers are shouting,
Ivan and Mitrodor;
Pakhom shouts: to the brightest
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister,
And Prov shouts: to the king!
It took more than before
Perky men,
They swear obscenely,
No wonder they grab it
In each other's hair...
Look - they've already grabbed it!
Roman is pushing Pakhomushka,
Demyan pushes Luka.
And the two Gubina brothers
They iron the hefty Prov, -
And everyone shouts his own!
A booming echo woke up,
Let's go for a walk,
Let's go scream and shout
As if to tease
Stubborn men.
To the Tsar! - heard to the right
To the left responds:
Ass! ass! ass!
The whole forest was in commotion
With flying birds
Swift-footed beasts
And creeping reptiles, -
And a groan, and a roar, and a roar!
First of all, little gray bunny
From a neighboring bush
Suddenly he jumped out, as if disheveled,
And he ran away!
Small jackdaws are behind him
Birch trees were raised at the top
A nasty, sharp squeak.
And then there’s the warbler
Tiny chick with fright
Fell from the nest;
The warbler chirps and cries,
Where is the chick? – he won’t find it!
Then the old cuckoo
I woke up and thought
Someone to cuckoo;
Accepted ten times
Yes, I got lost every time
And started again...
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!
The bread will begin to spike,
You'll choke on an ear of corn -
You won't cuckoo!
Seven eagle owls flew together,
Admiring the carnage
From seven big trees,
They're laughing, night owls!
And their eyes are yellow
They burn like burning wax
Fourteen candles!
And the raven, a smart bird,
Arrived, sitting on a tree
Right by the fire.
Sits and prays to the devil,
To be slapped to death
Which one!
Cow with a bell
That I got lost in the evening
She came to the fire and stared
Eyes on the men
I listened to crazy speeches
And began, my heart,
Moo, moo, moo!
The stupid cow moos
Small jackdaws squeak.
The boys are screaming,
And the echo echoes everyone.
He has only one concern -
Teasing honest people
Scare the boys and women!
Nobody saw him
And everyone has heard,
Without a body - but it lives,
Without a tongue - screams!
Owl - Zamoskvoretskaya
The princess immediately mooed,
Flies over the peasants
Crashing on the ground,
It’s about the bushes with the wing...
The fox herself is cunning,
Out of womanish curiosity,
Snuck up on the men
I listened, I listened
And she walked away, thinking:
“And the devil won’t understand them!”
Indeed: the debaters themselves
They hardly knew, they remembered -
What are they making noise about...
Having bruised my sides quite a bit
To each other, we came to our senses
Finally, the peasants
They drank from a puddle,
Washed, freshened up,
Sleep began to tilt them...
Meanwhile, the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
I got close to the fire.
Pakhomushka caught him,
He brought it to the fire and looked at it
And he said: “Little bird,
And the marigold is awesome!
I breathe and you'll roll off your palm,
If I sneeze, you'll roll into the fire,
If I click, you'll roll around dead
But you, little bird,
Stronger than a man!
The wings will soon get stronger,
Bye bye! wherever you want
That's where you'll fly!
Oh, you little birdie!
Give us your wings
We'll fly around the whole kingdom,
Let's see, let's explore,
Let's ask around and find out:
Who lives happily?
Is it at ease in Rus'?
“You wouldn’t even need wings,
If only we had some bread
Half a pound a day, -
And so we would Mother Rus'
They tried it on with their feet!” -
Said the gloomy Prov.
“Yes, a bucket of vodka,” -
They added eagerly
Before vodka, the Gubin brothers,
Ivan and Metrodor.
“Yes, in the morning there would be cucumbers
Ten of salty ones,” -
The men were joking.
“And at noon it would be a jug
Cold kvass."
“And in the evening, have a cup of tea
Have some hot tea..."
While they were chatting,
The warbler whirled and whirled
Above them: listened to everything
And she sat down by the fire.
Chiviknula, jumped up
Pahomu says:
“Let the chick go free!
For a chick for a small one
I will give a large ransom."
- What will you give? -
“I’ll give you some bread
Half a pound a day
I'll give you a bucket of vodka,
I'll give you some cucumbers in the morning,
And at noon, sour kvass,
And in the evening, tea!”
- And where,
Page 2 of 11
small bird, -
The Gubin brothers asked,
You will find wine and bread
Are you like seven men? -
“If you find it, you will find it yourself.
And I, little birdie,
I'll tell you how to find it."
- Tell! -
"Walk through the forest,
Against pillar thirty
Just a mile away:
Come to the clearing,
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees
Under these pine trees
The box is buried.
Get her, -
That magic box:
It contains a self-assembled tablecloth,
Whenever you wish,
He will feed you and give you something to drink!
Just say quietly:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!”
According to your wishes,
At my command,
Everything will appear immediately.
Now let the chick go!”
- Wait! we are poor people
We are going on a long journey, -
Pakhom answered her. -
I see you are a wise bird,
Respect old clothes
Bewitch us!
- So that the peasant Armenians
Worn, not torn down! -
Roman demanded.
- So that fake bast shoes
They served, they didn’t crash, -
Demyan demanded.
- Damn the louse, vile flea
She didn’t breed in shirts, -
Luka demanded.
- If only he could spoil... -
The Gubins demanded...
And the bird answered them:
“The tablecloth is all self-assembled
Repair, wash, dry
You will... Well, let me go!..”
Opening your palm wide,
He released the chick with his groin.
He let it in - and the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
Headed towards the hollow.
A warbler flew behind him
And on the fly she added:
“Look, mind you, one thing!
How much food can he bear?
Womb - then ask,
And you can ask for vodka
Exactly a bucket a day.
If you ask more,
And once and twice - it will be fulfilled
At your request,
And the third time there will be trouble!
And the warbler flew away
With your birth chick,
And the men in single file
We reached for the road
Look for pillar thirty.
Found! - They walk silently
Straightforward, straight forward
Through the dense forest,
Every step counts.
And how they measured the mile,
We saw a clearing -
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees...
The peasants dug around
Got that box
Opened and found
That tablecloth is self-assembled!
They found it and cried out at once:
“Hey, self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!”
Lo and behold, the tablecloth unfolded,
Where did they come from?
Two hefty arms
They put a bucket of wine,
They piled up a mountain of bread
And they hid again.
“Why are there no cucumbers?”
“Why is there no hot tea?”
“Why is there no cold kvass?”
Everything appeared suddenly...
The peasants got loose
They sat down by the tablecloth.
There's a feast here!
Kissing for joy
They promise each other
Don't fight in vain,
But the matter is really controversial
According to reason, according to God,
On the honor of the story -
Don't toss and turn in the houses,
Don't see your wives
Not with the little guys
Neither with old people old,
As long as the matter is moot
No solution will be found
Until they find out
No matter what for certain:
Who lives happily?
Free in Rus'?
Having made such a vow,
In the morning like dead
The men fell asleep...
Chapter I. POP
Wide path
Furnished with birch trees,
Stretches far
Sandy and deaf.
On the sides of the path
There are gentle hills
With fields, with hayfields,
And more often with an uncomfortable
Abandoned land;
There are old villages,
There are new villages,
By the rivers, by the ponds...
Forests, floodplain meadows,
Russian streams and rivers
Good in spring.
But you, spring fields!
On your shoots the poor
Not fun to watch!
“It’s not for nothing that in the long winter
(Our wanderers interpret)
It snowed every day.
Spring has come - the snow has had its effect!
He is humble for the time being:
It flies - is silent, lies - is silent,
When he dies, then he roars.
Water – everywhere you look!
The fields are completely flooded
Carrying manure - there is no road,
And the time is not too early -
The month of May is coming!”
I don’t like the old ones either,
It’s even more painful for new ones
They should look at the villages.
Oh huts, new huts!
You are smart, let him build you up
Not an extra penny,
And blood trouble!..
In the morning we met wanderers
All more people small:
His brother, a peasant-bast-worker,
Craftsmen, beggars,
Soldiers, coachmen.
From the beggars, from the soldiers
The strangers did not ask
How is it for them - is it easy or difficult?
Lives in Rus'?
Soldiers shave with an awl,
Soldiers warm themselves with smoke -
What happiness is there?..
The day was already approaching evening,
They go along the road,
A priest is coming towards me.
The peasants took off their caps.
bowed low,
Lined up in a row
And the gelding Savras
They blocked the way.
The priest raised his head
He looked and asked with his eyes:
What do they want?
“I suppose! We are not robbers! -
Luke said to the priest.
(Luka is a squat guy,
With a wide beard.
Stubborn, vocal and stupid.
Luke looks like a mill:
One is not a bird mill,
That, no matter how it flaps its wings,
Probably won't fly.)
“We are sedate men,
Of those temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
Nearby villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
Bad harvest too.
Let's go on something important:
We have concerns
Is it such a concern?
Which of the houses did she survive?
She made us friends with work,
I stopped eating.
Give us the right word
To our peasant speech
Without laughter and without cunning,
According to conscience, according to reason,
To answer truthfully
Not so with your care
We'll go to someone else..."
– I give you my true word:
If you ask the matter,
Without laughter and without cunning,
In truth and in reason,
How should one answer?
"Thank you. Listen!
Walking the path,
We came together by chance
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'?
Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
And I said: ass.
Kupchina fat-bellied, -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Pakhom said: to the brightest
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king...
The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock it out: no matter how much they argue,
We did not agree!
Having argued, we quarreled,
Having quarreled, they fought,
Having caught up, they changed their minds:
Don't go apart
Don't toss and turn in the houses,
Don't see your wives
Not with the little guys
Not with old people,
As long as our dispute
We won't find a solution
Until we find out
Whatever it is - for certain:
Who likes to live happily?
Free in Rus'?
Tell us in a divine way:
Is the priest's life sweet?
How are you - at ease, happily
Are you living, honest father?..”
I looked down and thought,
Sitting in a cart, pop
And he said: “Orthodox!”
It is a sin to grumble against God,
I bear my cross with patience,
I’m living... but how? Listen!
I'll tell you the truth, the truth,
And you have a peasant mind
Be smart! -
“Begin!”
-What do you think is happiness?
Peace, wealth, honor -
Isn't that right, dear friends?
They said: “Yes”...
- Now let's see, brothers,
What is butt peace like?
I have to admit, I should start
Almost from birth itself,
How to get a diploma
the priest's son,
At what cost to Popovich
The priesthood is bought
Let's better keep quiet!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . .Page 3 of 11
. . . . . . . . . .
Our roads are difficult.
Our parish is large.
Sick, dying,
Born into the world
They don’t choose time:
In reaping and haymaking,
In the dead of autumn night,
In winter, in severe frosts,
And in the spring flood -
Go wherever you are called!
You go unconditionally.
And even if only the bones
Alone broke, -
No! gets wet every time,
The soul will hurt.
Don't believe it, Orthodox Christians,
There is a limit to habit:
No heart can bear
Without any trepidation
Death rattle
Funeral lament
Orphan's sadness!
Amen!.. Now think.
What's the peace like?..
The peasants thought little
Letting the priest rest,
They said with a bow:
“What else can you tell us?”
- Now let's see, brothers,
What is the honor of a priest?
The task is delicate
I wouldn't anger you...
Tell me, Orthodox,
Who do you call
Foal breed?
Chur! respond to demand!
The peasants hesitated.
They are silent - and the priest is silent...
– Who are you afraid of meeting?
Walking the path?
Chur! respond to demand!
They groan, shift,
- Who are you writing about?
You are joker fairy tales,
And the songs are obscene
And all sorts of blasphemy?..
Mother-priest, sedate,
Popov's innocent daughter,
Every seminarian -
How do you honor?
To catch whom, like a gelding,
Shout: ho-ho-ho?..
The boys looked down
They are silent - and the priest is silent...
The peasants thought
And pop with a wide hat
I waved it in my face
Yes, I looked at the sky.
In the spring, when the grandchildren are small,
With the ruddy sun-grandfather
The clouds are playing:
Here's the right side
One continuous cloud
Covered - clouded,
It got dark and cried:
Rows of gray threads
They hung to the ground.
And closer, above the peasants,
From small, torn,
Happy clouds
The red sun laughs
Like a girl from the sheaves.
But the cloud has moved,
Pop covers himself with a hat -
Be in heavy rain.
And the right side
Already bright and joyful,
There the rain stops.
It's not rain, it's a miracle of God:
There with golden threads
Hanging skeins...
“Not ourselves... by parents
That’s how we…” – Gubin brothers
They finally said.
And others echoed:
“Not on your own, but on your parents!”
And the priest said: “Amen!”
Sorry, Orthodox!
Not in judging your neighbor,
And at your request
I told you the truth.
Such is the honor of a priest
In the peasantry. And the landowners...
“You’re passing them, the landowners!
We know them!
- Now let's see, brothers,
Where does the wealth come from?
Is Popovskoye coming?..
At a time not far away
Russian Empire
Noble estates
It was full.
And the landowners lived there,
Famous owners
There are none now!
Been fruitful and multiply
And they let us live.
What weddings were played there,
That children were born
On free bread!
Although often tough,
However, willing
Those were the gentlemen
They did not shy away from the arrival:
They got married here
Our children were baptized
They came to us to repent,
We sang their funeral service
And if it did happen,
That a landowner lived in the city,
That's probably how I'll die
Came to the village.
If he dies accidentally,
And then he will punish you firmly
Bury him in the parish.
Look, to the village temple
On a mourning chariot
Six horse heirs
The dead man is being transported -
Good correction for the butt,
For the laity, a holiday is a holiday...
But now it’s not the same!
Like the tribe of Judah,
The landowners dispersed
Across distant foreign lands
And native to Rus'.
Now there's no time for pride
Lie in native possession
Next to fathers, grandfathers,
And there are many properties
Let's go to the profiteers.
Oh sleek bones
Russian, noble!
Where are you not buried?
In what land are you not?
Then, the article... schismatics...
I'm not a sinner, I haven't lived
Nothing from the schismatics.
Fortunately, there was no need:
In my parish there are
Living in Orthodoxy
Two thirds of the parishioners.
And there are such volosts,
Where there are almost all schismatics,
So what about the butt?
Everything in the world is changeable,
The world itself will pass away...
Laws formerly strict
To the schismatics, they softened,
And with them the priest
The income has come.
The landowners moved away
They don't live in estates
And die in old age
They don't come to us anymore.
Rich landowners
Pious old ladies,
Which died out
Who have settled down
Near monasteries,
Nobody wears a cassock now
He won’t give you your butt!
No one will embroider the air...
Live with only peasants,
Collect worldly hryvnias,
Yes, pies on holidays,
Yes, holy eggs.
The peasant himself needs
And I would be glad to give, but there’s nothing...
And then not everyone
And the peasant's penny is sweet.
Our benefits are meager,
Sands, swamps, mosses,
The little beast goes from hand to mouth,
Bread will be born on its own,
And if it gets better
The damp earth is the nurse,
So a new problem:
There is nowhere to go with the bread!
There's a need, you'll sell it
For sheer trifle,
And then there’s a crop failure!
Then pay through the nose,
Sell the cattle.
Pray, Orthodox Christians!
Great trouble threatens
And this year:
The winter was fierce
Spring is rainy
It should have been sowing long ago,
And there is water in the fields!
Have mercy, Lord!
Send a cool rainbow
To our heavens!
(Taking off his hat, the shepherd crosses himself,
And the listeners too.)
Our villages are poor,
And the peasants in them are sick
Yes, women are sad
Nurses, drinkers,
Slaves, pilgrims
And eternal workers,
Lord give them strength!
With so much work for pennies
Life is hard!
It happens to the sick
You will come: not dying,
The peasant family is scary
At that hour when she has to
Lose your breadwinner!
Give a farewell message to the deceased
And support in the remaining
You try your best
The spirit is cheerful! And here to you
The old woman, the mother of the dead man,
Look, he's reaching out with the bony one,
Calloused hand.
The soul will turn over,
How they jingle in this little hand
Two copper coins!
Of course, it's a clean thing -
I demand retribution
If you don’t take it, you have nothing to live with.
Yes a word of comfort
Freezes on the tongue
And as if offended
You will go home... Amen...
Finished the speech - and the gelding
Pop lightly whipped.
The peasants parted
They bowed low.
The horse trudged slowly.
And six comrades,
It's like we agreed
They attacked with reproaches,
With selected large swearing
To poor Luka:
- What, did you take it? stubborn head!
Country club!
That's where the argument gets into! -
"Nobles of the bell -
The priests live like princes.
They're going under the sky
Popov's tower,
The priest's fiefdom is buzzing -
Loud bells -
For the whole God's world.
For three years I, little ones,
He lived with the priest as a worker,
Raspberries are not life!
Popova porridge - with butter.
Popov pie - with filling,
Popov's cabbage soup - with smelt!
Popov's wife is fat,
The priest's daughter is white,
Popov's horse is fat,
The priest's bee is well-fed,
How the bell rings!”
Page 4 of 11
here's your praise
A priest's life!
Why were you yelling and showing off?
Getting into a fight, anathema?
Wasn't that what I was thinking of taking?
What's a beard like a shovel?
Like a goat with a beard
I walked around the world before,
Than the forefather Adam,
And he is considered a fool
And now he’s a goat!..
Luke stood, kept silent,
I was afraid they wouldn't hit me
Comrades, stand by.
It came to be so,
Yes, to the happiness of the peasant
The road is bent -
The face is priestly stern
Appeared on the hill...
CHAPTER II. RURAL FAIR
No wonder our wanderers
They scolded the wet one,
Cold spring.
The peasant needs spring
And early and friendly,
And here - even a wolf howl!
The sun does not warm the earth,
And the rainy clouds
Like milk cows
They're walking across the sky.
The snow has gone and the greenery
Not a grass, not a leaf!
The water is not removed
The earth doesn't dress
Green bright velvet
And like a dead man without a shroud,
Lies under a cloudy sky
Sad and naked.
I feel sorry for the poor peasant
And I’m even more sorry for the cattle;
Having fed meager supplies,
The owner of the twig
He drove her into the meadows,
What should I take there? Chernekhonko!
Only on Nikola Veshny
The weather has cleared up
Green fresh grass
The cattle feasted.
It's a hot day. Under the birch trees
The peasants are making their way
They chatter among themselves:
“We’re going through one village,
Let's go another - empty!
And today is a holiday,
Where have the people gone?..”
Walking through the village - on the street
Some guys are small,
There are old women in the houses,
Or even completely locked
Lockable gates.
Castle - a faithful dog:
Doesn't bark, doesn't bite,
But he doesn’t let me into the house!
We passed the village and saw
Mirror in green frame:
The edges are full of ponds.
Swallows are flying over the pond;
Some mosquitoes
Agile and skinny
Leaping, as if on dry land,
They walk on the water.
Along the banks, in the broom,
The corncrakes are creaking.
On a long, shaky raft
Thick blanket with roller
Stands like a plucked haystack,
Tucking the hem.
On the same raft
A duck sleeps with her ducklings...
Chu! horse snoring!
The peasants looked at once
And we saw over the water
Two heads: a man's.
Curly and dark,
With an earring (the sun was blinking
On that white earring),
The other is horse
With a rope, five fathoms.
The man takes the rope in his mouth,
The man swims - and the horse swims,
The man neighed - and the horse neighed.
They're swimming and screaming! Under the woman
Under the small ducklings
The raft moves freely.
I caught up with the horse - grab it by the withers!
He jumped up and rode out into the meadow
Baby: white body,
And the neck is like tar;
Water flows in streams
From the horse and from the rider.
“What do you have in your village?
Neither old nor small,
How did all the people die out?”
- We went to the village of Kuzminskoye,
Today there is a fair
And the temple holiday. -
“How far is Kuzminskoye?”
- Yes, it will be about three miles.
“Let's go to the village of Kuzminskoye,
Let's watch the fair!" -
The men decided
And you thought to yourself:
"Isn't that where he's hiding?
Who lives happily?..”
Kuzminskoe rich,
And what’s more, it’s dirty
Trading village.
It stretches along the slope,
Then it descends into the ravine.
And there again on the hill -
How can there not be dirt here?
There are two ancient churches in it,
One Old Believer,
Another Orthodox
House with the inscription: school,
Empty, packed tightly,
A hut with one window,
With the image of a paramedic,
Drawing blood.
There is a dirty hotel
Decorated with a sign
(With a big nosed teapot
Tray in the hands of the bearer,
And small cups
Like a goose with goslings,
That kettle is surrounded)
There are permanent shops
Like a district
Gostiny Dvor…
Strangers came to the square:
There are a lot of different goods
And apparently-invisibly
To the people! Isn't it fun?
It seems there is no godfather,
And, as if in front of icons,
Men without hats.
Such a side thing!
Look where they go
Peasant shliks:
In addition to the wine warehouse,
Taverns, restaurants,
A dozen damask shops,
Three inns,
Yes, “Rensky cellar”,
Yes, a couple of taverns.
Eleven zucchinis
Set for the holiday
Tents in the village.
Each has five carriers;
The carriers are good guys
Trained, mature,
And they can’t keep up with everything,
Can't cope with change!
Look what? stretched out
Peasant hands with hats,
With scarves, with mittens.
Oh, Orthodox thirst,
How great are you!
Just to shower my darling,
And there they will get the hats,
When the market leaves.
Over the drunken heads
The spring sun is shining...
Intoxicatingly, vociferously, festively,
Colorful, red all around!
The guys' pants are corduroy,
Striped vests,
Shirts of all colors;
The women are wearing red dresses,
The girls have braids with ribbons,
The winches are floating!
And there are still some tricks,
Dressed like a metropolitan -
And it expands and sulks
Hoop hem!
If you step in, they will dress up!
At ease, newfangled women,
Fishing gear for you
Wear under skirts!
Looking at the smart women,
The Old Believers are furious
Tovarke says:
“Be hungry! be hungry!
Marvel at how the seedlings are soaked,
That the spring flood is worse
It's worth up to Petrov!
Since women began
Dress up in red calico, -
The forests don't rise
At least not this bread!”
- Why are the calicoes red?
Have you done something wrong here, mother?
I can't imagine! -
“And those French calicoes -
Painted with dog blood!
Well... do you understand now?..”
They were jostling around the horse,
Along the hill where they are piled up
Roe deer, rakes, harrows,
Hooks, trolley machines,
Rims, axes.
Trade was brisk there,
With God, with jokes,
With a healthy, loud laugh.
And how can you not laugh?
The guy is kind of tiny
I went and tried the rims:
I bent one - I don’t like it,
He bent the other one and pushed.
How will the rim straighten out?
Click on the guy's forehead!
A man roars over the rim,
"Elm club"
Scolds the fighter.
Another came with different
Wooden crafts -
And he dumped the whole cart!
Drunk! The axle broke
And he began to do it -
The ax broke! Changed my mind
A man with an axe,
Scolds him, reproaches him,
As if it does the job:
“You scoundrel, not an axe!
Empty service, nothing
And he didn’t serve that one.
All your life you bowed,
But I was never affectionate!”
The wanderers went to the shops:
They admire handkerchiefs,
Ivanovo chintz,
Harnesses, new shoes,
A product of the Kimryaks.
At that shoe shop
The strangers laugh again:
There are goat shoes here
Grandfather traded with granddaughter
Five times about the price
Page 5 of 11
asked
He turned it over in his hands and looked around:
The product is first class!
“Well, uncle! two two hryvnia
Pay up or get lost!” -
The merchant told him.
- Wait a minute! - Admires
An old man with a tiny shoe,
This is what he says:
- I don’t care about my son-in-law, and my daughter will remain silent,
I feel sorry for my granddaughter! Hanged herself
On the neck, fidget:
“Buy a hotel, grandpa.
Buy it!” – Silk head
The face is tickled, caressed,
Kisses the old man.
Wait, barefoot crawler!
Wait, spinning top! Goats
I'll buy some boots...
Vavilushka boasted,
Both old and young
He promised me gifts,
And he drank himself to a penny!
How my eyes are shameless
Will I show it to my family?..
I don’t care about my son-in-law, and my daughter will remain silent,
The wife doesn’t care, let her grumble!
And I feel sorry for my granddaughter!.. - I went again
About my granddaughter! Killing himself!..
The people have gathered, listening,
Don't laugh, feel sorry;
Happen, work, bread
They would help him
And take out two two-kopeck pieces -
So you will be left with nothing.
Yes, there was a man here
Pavlusha Veretennikov
(What kind, rank,
The men didn't know
However, they called him “master”.
He was very good at making jokes,
He wore a red shirt,
Cloth girl,
Grease Boots;
Sang Russian songs smoothly
And he loved listening to them.
Many have seen him
In the inn courtyards,
In taverns, in taverns.)
So he helped Vavila -
I bought him boots.
Vavilo grabbed them
And so he was! - For joy
Thanks even to the master
Old man forgot to say
But other peasants
So they were consoled
So happy, as if everyone
He gave it in rubles!
There was also a bench here
With paintings and books,
Ofeni stocked up
Your goods in it.
“Do you need generals?” -
The burning merchant asked them.
“And give me generals!
Yes, only you, according to your conscience,
To be real -
Thicker, more menacing."
“Wonderful! the way you look! -
The merchant said with a grin, -
It’s not a matter of complexion...”
- What is it? You're kidding, friend!
Rubbish, perhaps, is it desirable to sell?
Where are we going to go with her?
You're being naughty! Before the peasant
All generals are equal
Like cones on a spruce tree:
To sell the ugly one,
You need to get to the dock,
And fat and menacing
I'll give it to everyone...
Come on big, dignified ones,
Chest as high as a mountain, eyes bulging,
Yes, for more stars!
“Don’t you want civilians?”
- Well, here we go again with the civilians! -
(However, they took it - cheaply! -
Some dignitary
For a belly the size of a wine barrel
And for seventeen stars.)
Merchant - with all respect,
Whatever he likes, he treats him to it
(From Lubyanka - the first thief!) -
I sent down a hundred Bluchers,
Archimandrite Photius,
Robber Sipko,
Sold the book: “The Jester Balakirev”
And "English my lord" ...
The books went into the box,
Let's go for a walk portraits
According to the All-Russian kingdom,
Until they settle down
In a peasant's summer cottage,
On a low wall...
God knows why!
Eh! eh! will the time come,
When (come, desired one!..)
They will let the peasant understand
What a rose a portrait is for a portrait,
What is the book of the book of roses?
When a man is not Blucher
And not my foolish lord -
Belinsky and Gogol
Will it come from the market?
Oh people, Russian people!
Orthodox peasants!
Have you ever heard
Are you these names?
Those are great names,
Wore them, glorified them
People's intercessors!
Here's some portraits of them for you
Hang in your gorenki,
“And I would be glad to go to heaven, but the door
This kind of speech breaks in
To the shop unexpectedly.
- Which door do you want? -
“Yes, to the booth. Chu! music!.."
- Let's go, I'll show you! -
Having heard about the farce,
Our wanderers have also gone
Listen, look.
Comedy with Petrushka,
With a goat and a drummer
And not with a simple barrel organ,
And with real music
They looked here.
Comedy is not wise
However, not stupid either
Resident, quarterly
Not in the eyebrow, but straight in the eye!
The hut is completely empty.
People are cracking nuts
Or two or three peasants
Let's exchange a word -
Look, vodka has appeared:
They'll watch and drink!
They laugh, they are consoled
And often in Petrushkin’s speech
Insert an apt word,
Which one you can't think of
At least swallow a feather!
There are such lovers -
How will the comedy end?
They'll go behind the screens,
Kissing, fraternizing,
Chatting with musicians:
“Where from, good fellows?”
- And we were masters,
They played for the landowner.
Now we are free people
Who will bring it, treat it,
He is our master!
“And that’s it, dear friends,
Quite a bar you entertained,
Amuse the men!
Hey! small! sweet vodka!
Liqueurs! some tea! half a beer!
Tsimlyansky - come alive!..”
And the flooded sea
It will do, more generous than the lord's
The kids will be treated to a treat.
It is not the winds that blow violently,
It is not mother earth that sways -
He makes noise, sings, swears,
Swaying, lying around,
Fights and kisses
People are celebrating!
It seemed to the peasants
How we reached the hillock,
That the whole village is shaking,
That even the church is old
With a high bell tower
It shook once or twice! -
Here, sober and naked,
Awkward... Our wanderers
We walked around the square again
And by evening they left
Stormy village...
CHAPTER III. DRUNKEN NIGHT
Not a barn, not a barn,
Not a tavern, not a mill,
How often in Rus',
The village ended low
Log building
With iron bars
In small windows.
Behind that milestone building
Wide path
Furnished with birch trees,
It opened right there.
Not crowded on weekdays,
Sad and quiet
She's not the same now!
All along that path
And along the roundabout paths,
As far as the eye could see,
They crawled, they lay, they drove.
Drunk people were floundering
And there was a groan!
Heavy carts hide,
And like calfs' heads,
Swinging, dangling
Victory heads
Asleep men!
People walk and fall,
As if because of the rollers
Enemies with buckshot
They're shooting at the men!
Silent night is falling
Already out into the dark sky
Moon, really
Page 6 of 11
writes a letter
Lord is red gold
On blue on velvet,
That tricky letter,
Which neither wise men
It's buzzing! That the sea is blue
Silences, rises
Popular rumor.
“And we give fifty dollars to the clerk:
The request has been made
To the head of the province..."
"Hey! The sack fell from the cart!”
“Where are you going, Olenushka?
Wait! I'll also give you some gingerbread,
You are as agile as a flea,
She ate her fill and jumped away.
I couldn’t stroke it!”
“You are good, royal letter,
Yes, you’re not writing about us...”
“Move aside, people!”
(Excise officials
With bells, with plaques
They rushed from the market.)
“And I mean this now:
And the broom is rubbish, Ivan Ilyich,
And he will walk on the floor,
It will spray wherever!
“God forbid, Parashenka,
Don't go to St. Petersburg!
There are such officials
You are their cook for a day,
And their night is crazy -
So I don’t care!”
“Where are you going, Savvushka?”
(The priest shouts to the sotsky
On horseback, with a government badge.)
- I’m galloping to Kuzminskoye
Behind the stanov. Occasion:
There's a peasant ahead
Killed... - “Eh!.. sins!..”
“You’ve become thinner, Daryushka!”
- Not a spindle, friend!
That's what the more it spins,
It's getting potbellied
And I’m like every day...
"Hey guy, stupid guy,
Ragged, lousy,
Hey love me!
Me, bareheaded,
Drunk old woman,
Zaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally!
Our peasants are sober,
Looking, listening,
They go their own way.
In the middle of the road
Some guy is quiet
I dug a big hole.
“What are you doing here?”
- And I’m burying my mother! -
"Fool! what a mother!
Look: a new undershirt
You buried it in the ground!
Go quickly and grunt
Lie down in the ditch and drink some water!
Maybe the crap will come off!”
“Come on, let’s stretch!”
Two peasants sit down
They rest their feet,
And they live, and they push,
They groan and stretch on a rolling pin,
Joints are cracking!
Didn't like it on the rolling pin:
"Let's try now
Stretch your beard!”
When the beard is in order
They reduced each other,
Grabbing your cheekbones!
They puff, blush, writhe,
They moo, squeal, and stretch!
“Let it be to you, damned ones!
You won’t spill water!”
Women are quarreling in the ditch,
One shouts: “Go home
More sick than hard labor!”
Another: - You're lying, in my house
Worse than yours!
My eldest brother-in-law broke my rib,
The middle son-in-law stole the ball,
A ball of spit, but the thing is -
Fifty dollars was wrapped in it,
And the younger son-in-law keeps taking the knife,
He's about to kill him, he's going to kill him!..
“Well, that’s enough, that’s enough, dear!
Well, don't be angry! - behind the roller
It can be heard nearby. -
I’m okay... let’s go!”
Such a bad night!
Is it right or left?
From the road you can see:
Couples are walking together
Isn't it the right grove that they're going to?
The nightingales are singing...
The road is crowded
What later is uglier:
More and more often they come across
Beaten, crawling,
Lying in a layer.
Without swearing, as usual,
Not a word will be uttered,
Crazy, obscene,
She is the loudest!
The taverns are in turmoil,
The leads are mixed up
Scared horses
They run without riders;
Little children are crying here.
Wives and mothers grieve:
Is it easy from drinking
Should I call the men?..
Our wanderers are approaching
And they see: Veretennikov
(What goatskin shoes
Gave it to Vavila)
Talks with peasants.
The peasants are opening up
The gentleman likes:
Pavel will praise the song -
They'll sing it five times, write it down!
Like the proverb -
Write a proverb!
Having written down enough,
Veretennikov told them:
“Russian peasants are smart,
One thing is bad
That they drink until they are stupefied,
They fall into ditches, into ditches -
It’s a shame to see!”
The peasants listened to that speech,
They agreed with the master.
Pavlusha has something in a book
I wanted to write already.
Yes, he turned up drunk
Man, he is against the master
Lying on his stomach
I looked into his eyes,
I kept silent - but suddenly
How he will jump up! Straight to the master -
Grab the pencil from your hands!
- Wait, empty head!
Crazy news, shameless
Don't talk about us!
What were you jealous of!
Why is the poor thing having fun?
Peasant soul?
We drink a lot from time to time,
And we work more.
You see a lot of us drunk,
And there are more of us sober.
Have you walked around the villages?
Let's take a bucket of vodka,
Let's go through the huts:
In one, in the other they will pile up,
And in the third they won’t touch -
We have a drinking family
Non-drinking family!
They don’t drink, and they also toil,
It would be better if they drank, stupid ones,
Yes, conscience is like that...
It’s wonderful to watch how he bursts in
In such a sober hut
A man's trouble -
And I wouldn’t even look!.. I saw it
Are Russian villages in the midst of suffering?
In a drinking establishment, what, people?
We have vast fields,
And not much generous,
Tell me, by whose hand
In the spring they will dress,
Will they undress in the fall?
Have you met a guy?
After work in the evening?
To reap a good mountain
I set it down and ate a pea-sized piece:
"Hey! hero! straw
I’ll knock you over, move aside!”
Peasant food is sweet,
The whole century saw an iron saw
He chews but doesn't eat!
Yes, the belly is not a mirror,
We don’t cry for food...
You work alone
And the work is almost over,
Look, there are three shareholders standing:
God, king and lord!
And there is also a destroyer
Fourth, be meaner than the Tatar,
So he won’t share
He'll gobble it all up alone!
The third year is upon us
The same inferior gentleman,
Like you, from near Moscow.
Records songs
Tell him the proverb
Leave the riddle behind.
And there was another one - he was interrogating,
How many hours will you work per day?
Little by little, by a lot
Do you shove pieces into your mouth?
Another one measures the land,
Another in the village of inhabitants
He can count it on his fingers,
But they didn’t count it,
How much each summer
The fire is blowing into the wind
Peasant labor?..
There is no measure for Russian hops.
Have they measured our grief?
Is there a limit to the work?
Wine brings down the peasant,
Doesn't grief overwhelm him?
Work isn't going well?
A man does not measure troubles
Copes with everything
No matter what, come.
A man, working, does not think,
Which will strain your strength.
So really over a glass
Think about what's too much
Will you end up in a ditch?
Why is it shameful for you to look,
Like drunk people lying around
So look,
Like being dragged out of a swamp
Peasants have wet hay,
Having mowed down, they drag:
Where horses can't get through
Where and without a burden on foot
It's dangerous to cross
There's a peasant horde there
According to the Kochs, according to the Zhorins
Crawling with whips -
The peasant's navel is cracking!
Under the sun without hats,
In sweat, in mud up to the top of my head,
Cut up by sedge,
Swamp reptile-midge
Eaten into blood, -
Are we prettier here?
To regret - regret skillfully,
To the master's measure
Don't kill the peasant!
Not gentle white-handed ones,
And we are great people
At work and at play!..
Every peasant
The soul is like a black cloud -
Angry, menacing - and it would be necessary
Thunder will roar from there,
Bloody rains,
And it all ends with wine.
A little charm went through my veins -
And the kind one laughed
Peasant soul!
There is no need to grieve here,
Look around - rejoice!
Hey guys, hey
Page 7 of 11
young ladies,
They know how to take a walk!
The bones waved
They reeled my darling out,
And the bravery is brave
Saved for the occasion!..
The man stood on the bolster
He stamped his little shoes
And, after being silent for a moment,
Admiring the cheerful
Roaring crowd:
- Hey! you are a peasant kingdom,
Hatless, drunk,
Make noise – make more noise!.. -
“What’s your name, old lady?”
- And what? will you write it down in a book?
Perhaps there is no need!
Write: “In the village of Basovo
Yakim Nagoy lives,
He works himself to death
He drinks until he’s half dead!..”
The peasants laughed
And they told the master,
What a man Yakim is.
Yakim, wretched old man,
Once lived in St. Petersburg,
Yes, he ended up in jail:
I decided to compete with the merchant!
Like a piece of velcro,
He returned to his homeland
And he took up the plow.
Since then it has been roasting for thirty years
On the strip under the sun,
He escapes under the harrow
From frequent rain,
He lives and tinkers with the plow,
And death will come to Yakimushka -
As the lump of earth falls off,
What's stuck on the plow...
There was an incident with him: pictures
He bought it for his son
Hung them on the walls
And he himself is no less than a boy
I loved looking at them.
God's disfavor has come
The village caught fire -
And it was at Yakimushka’s
accumulated over a century
Thirty-five rubles.
I’d rather take the rubles,
And first he showed pictures
He began to tear it off the wall;
Meanwhile his wife
I was fiddling with icons,
And then the hut collapsed -
Yakim made such a mistake!
The virgins merged into a lump,
For that lump they give him
Eleven rubles...
“Oh brother Yakim! not cheap
The pictures worked!
But to a new hut
I suppose you hung them?”
- I hung it up - there are new ones, -
Yakim said and fell silent.
The master looked at the plowman:
The chest is sunken; as if pressed in
Stomach; at the eyes, at the mouth
Bends like cracks
On dry ground;
And to Mother Earth myself
He looks like: brown neck,
Like a layer cut off by a plow,
Brick face
Hand - tree bark,
And the hair is sand.
The peasants, as they noted,
Why are you not offended by the master?
Yakimov's words,
And they themselves agreed
With Yakim: – The word is true:
We should drink!
If we drink, it means we feel strong!
Great sadness will come,
How can we stop drinking!..
Work wouldn't stop me
Trouble would not prevail
Hops will not overcome us!
Is not it?
“Yes, God is merciful!”
- Well, have a glass with us!
We got some vodka and drank it.
Yakim Veretennikov
He brought two scales.
- Hey master! didn't get angry
Smart little head!
(Yakim told him.)
Smart little head
How can one not understand a peasant?
Do pigs walk around? zemi -
They can’t see the sky forever!..
Suddenly the song rang out in chorus
Daring, consonant:
Ten three young men,
They're tipsy and don't lie down,
They walk side by side, sing,
They sing about Mother Volga,
About valiant prowess,
About girlish beauty.
The whole road became silent,
That one song is funny
Rolls wide and freely
Like rye spreading in the wind,
According to the peasant's heart
It goes with fire and melancholy!..
I'll go away to that song
I lost my mind and cried
Young girl alone:
“My age is like a day without the sun,
My age is like a night without a month,
And I, young and young,
Like a greyhound horse on a leash,
What is a swallow without wings!
My old husband, jealous husband,
He's drunk and drunk, he's snoring,
Me, when I was very young,
And the sleepy one is on guard!”
That's how the young girl cried
Yes, she suddenly jumped off the cart!
"Where?" - the jealous husband shouts,
He stood up and grabbed the woman by the braid,
Like a radish for a cowlick!
Oh! night, drunken night!
Not light, but starry,
Not hot, but with affectionate
Spring breeze!
And to our good fellows
You weren't in vain!
They felt sad for their wives,
It's true: with my wife
Now it would be more fun!
Ivan shouts: “I want to sleep,”
And Maryushka: “And I’m with you!” -
Ivan shouts: “The bed is narrow,”
And Maryushka: “Let’s settle down!” -
Ivan shouts: “Oh, it’s cold,”
And Maryushka: - Let's get warm! -
How do you remember that song?
Without a word - we agreed
Try your casket.
One, why God knows,
Between the field and the road
A thick linden tree has grown.
Strangers crouched under it
And they said carefully:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth,
Treat the men!”
And the tablecloth unrolled,
Where did they come from?
Two hefty arms:
They put a bucket of wine,
They piled up a mountain of bread
And they hid again.
The peasants refreshed themselves.
Roman for the guard
Stayed by the bucket
And others intervened
In the crowd - look for the happy one:
They really wanted
Get home soon...
CHAPTER IV. HAPPY
In a loud, festive crowd
The wanderers walked
They shouted the cry:
"Hey! Is there a happy one somewhere?
Show up! If it turns out
That you live happily
We have a ready-made bucket:
Drink for free as much as you like -
We'll treat you to glory!..”
Such unheard of speeches
Sober people laughed
And drunk people are smart
Almost spat in my beard
Zealous screamers.
However, hunters
Take a sip of free wine
Enough was found.
When the wanderers returned
Under the linden tree, calling out a cry,
People surrounded them.
The dismissed sexton came,
Skinny as a sulfur match,
And he let go of his laces,
That happiness is not in pastures,
Not in sables, not in gold,
Not in expensive stones.
“And what?”
- In good humor!
There are limits to possessions
Lords, nobles, kings of the earth,
And the wise's possession -
The entire city of Christ!
If the sun warms you up
Yes, I’ll miss the braid,
So I'm happy! -
“Where will you get the braid?”
- Yes, you promised to give...
“Get lost!” You’re being naughty!..”
An old woman came
Pockmarked, one-eyed,
And she announced, bowing,
How happy she is:
What's in store for her in the fall?
Rap was born to a thousand
On a small ridge.
- Such a large turnip,
These turnips are delicious
And the whole ridge is three fathoms,
And across - arshin! -
They laughed at the woman
But they didn’t give me a drop of vodka:
“Drink at home, old man,
Eat that turnip!”
A soldier came with medals,
I'm barely alive, but I want a drink:
- I'm happy! - speaks.
“Well, open up, old lady,
What is a soldier's happiness?
Don’t hide, look!”
- And that, firstly, is happiness,
What's in twenty battles
I was, not killed!
And secondly, more importantly,
Me even in times of peace
I walked neither full nor hungry,
But he didn’t give in to death!
And thirdly - for offenses,
Great and small
I was beaten mercilessly with sticks,
Just feel it and it’s alive!
"On the! drink, servant!
There's no point in arguing with you:
You are happy - there is no word!
Came with a heavy hammer
Olonchan stonemason,
Broad-shouldered, young:
- And I live - I don’t complain, -
He said, “with his wife, with his mother.”
We don't know the needs!
“What is your happiness?”
- But look (and with a hammer,
He waved it like a feather):
When I wake up before the sun
Let me wake up at midnight,
So I will crush the mountain!
It happened, I can’t boast
Chopping crushed stones
Five silver a day!
Groin raised "happiness"
And, having grunted quite a bit,
Presented to the employee:
“Well, that’s important! won't it be
Running around with this happiness
Is it hard in old age?..”
- Look, don’t boast about your strength, -
The man said with shortness of breath,
Relaxed, thin
(The nose is sharp, like a dead one,
Skinny hands like a rake,
The legs are long like knitting needles,
Not a person - a mosquito). -
I was no worse than a mason
Yes, he also boasted of his strength,
So God punished!
Got it
Page 8 of 11
contractor, beast,
What a simple child,
Taught me to praise
And I’m stupidly happy,
I work for four!
One day I wear a good one
I laid bricks.
And here he is, damned,
And apply it hard:
"What is this? - speaks. -
I don’t recognize Tryphon!
Walk with such a burden
Aren’t you ashamed of the fellow?”
- And if it seems a little,
Add with your master's hand! -
I said, getting angry.
Well, about half an hour, I think
I waited, and he planted,
And he planted it, you scoundrel!
I hear it myself - the craving is terrible,
I didn’t want to back away.
And I brought that damn burden
I'm on the second floor!
The contractor looks and wonders
Shouts, scoundrel, from there:
“Oh well done, Trofim!
You don't know what you did:
You took one down at the very least
Fourteen pounds!
Oh, I know! heart with a hammer
Beating in the chest, bloody
There are circles in the eyes,
My back feels like it's cracked...
They are shaking, their legs are weak.
I've been wasting away since then!..
Pour, brother, half a glass!
“Pour? Where is the happiness here?
We treat the happy
What did you say!”
- Listen to the end! there will be happiness!
“Why, speak up!”
- Here's what. In my homeland
Like every peasant,
I wanted to die.
From St. Petersburg, relaxed,
Crazy, almost without memory,
I got into the car.
Well, here we go.
In the carriage - feverish,
Hot workers
There are a lot of us
Everyone wanted the same thing
How do I get to my homeland?
To die at home.
However, you need happiness
And here: we were traveling in the summer,
In the heat, in the stuffiness
Many people are confused
Completely sick heads,
Hell broke out in the carriage:
He moans, he rolls,
Like a catechumen, across the floor,
He raves about his wife, mother.
Well, at the nearest station
Down with this!
I looked at my comrades
I was burning all over, thinking -
Bad luck for me too.
There are purple circles in the eyes,
And everything seems to me, brother,
Why am I cutting up peuns!
(We are also bastards,
It happened to fatten up a year
Up to a thousand goiters.)
Where did you remember, damned ones!
I already tried to pray,
No! everyone is going crazy!
Will you believe it? the whole party
He's in awe of me!
The larynxes are cut,
Blood is gushing, but they are singing!
And I with a knife: “Fuck you!”
How the Lord has had mercy,
Why didn't I scream?
I’m sitting, strengthening myself... fortunately,
The day is over, and by evening
It got cold - he took pity
God is above the orphans!
Well, that's how we got there,
And I made my way home,
And here, by God's grace,
And it became easier for me...
-What are you bragging about here?
With your peasant happiness? -
Screams broken to his feet
Yard man. -
And you treat me:
I'm happy, God knows!
From the first boyar,
At Prince Peremetyev's,
I was a beloved slave.
The wife is a beloved slave,
And the daughter is with the young lady
I also studied French
And to all kinds of languages,
She was allowed to sit down
In the presence of the princess...
Oh! how it stung!.. fathers!.. -
(And started the right leg
Rub with your palms.)
The peasants laughed.
“Why are you laughing, you fools?”
Unexpectedly angry
The yard man screamed. -
I'm sick, should I tell you?
What do I pray to the Lord for?
Getting up and going to bed?
I pray: “Leave me, Lord,
My illness is honorable,
According to her, I am a nobleman!
Not your vile sickness,
Not hoarse, not hernia -
A noble disease
What kind of thing is there?
Among the top officials in the empire,
I'm sick, man!
It's called a game!
To get it -
Champagne, Bourgogne,
Tokaji, Hungarian
You need to drink for thirty years...
Behind the chair of the Most Serene One
At Prince Peremetyev's
I stood for forty years
With the best French truffle
I licked the plates
Foreign drinks
I drank from the glasses...
Well, pour it! -
“Get lost!”
We have peasant wine,
Simple, not overseas -
Not on your lips!
Yellow-haired, hunched over,
He crept timidly up to the wanderers
Belarusian peasant
This is where he reaches for vodka:
- Pour me some manenichko too,
I'm happy! - speaks.
“Don’t bother with your hands!
Report, prove
First, what makes you happy?”
– And our happiness is in the bread:
I'm at home in Belarus
With chaff, with bonfire
He chewed barley bread;
You writhe like a woman in labor,
How it grabs your stomach.
And now, the mercy of God! -
Gubonin has his fill
They give you rye bread,
I chew - I won’t get chewed! -
It's kind of cloudy
A man with a curled cheekbone,
Everything looks to the right:
- I follow the bears.
And I feel great happiness:
Three of my comrades
The teddy bears were broken,
And I live, God is merciful!
“Well, look to the left?”
I didn’t look, no matter how hard I tried,
What scary faces
Neither did the man make a face:
- The bear turned me over
Manenichko cheekbone! -
“And you compare yourself with the other one,
Give her your right cheek -
He’ll fix it...” – They laughed,
However, they brought it.
Ragged beggars
Hearing the smell of foam,
And they came to prove
How happy they are:
– There’s a shopkeeper at our doorstep
Greeted with alms
And we’ll enter the house, just like that from the house
They escort you to the gate...
Let's sing a little song,
The hostess runs to the window
With an edge, with a knife,
And we are filled with:
“Come on, come on - the whole loaf,
Doesn't wrinkle or crumble,
Hurry up for you, hurry up for us..."
Our wanderers realized
Why was vodka wasted for nothing?
By the way, and a bucket
End. “Well, that will be yours!
Hey, man's happiness!
Leaky with patches,
Humpbacked with calluses,
Go home!”
- And you, dear friends,
Ask Ermila Girin, -
He said, sitting down with the wanderers,
Villages of Dymoglotov
Peasant Fedosey. -
If Yermil doesn’t help out,
He won't be declared lucky
So there’s no point in wandering around...
“Who is Yermil?
Is it the prince, the illustrious count?”
- Not a prince, not an illustrious count,
But he’s just a man!
“You speak more intelligently,
Sit down and we'll listen,
What kind of person is Yermil?”
- And here’s what: an orphan’s
Yermilo kept the mill
On Unzha. By court
Decided to sell the mill:
Yermilo came with the others
To the auction room.
Empty buyers
They quickly fell off.
One merchant Altynnikov
He entered into battle with Yermil,
Keeps up, bargains,
It costs a pretty penny.
How angry Yermilo will be -
Grab five rubles at once!
The merchant again a pretty penny,
They started a battle;
The merchant gives him a penny,
And he gave him a ruble!
Altynnikov could not resist!
Yes, there was an opportunity here:
They immediately began to demand
Deposits third part,
And the third part is up to a thousand.
There was no money with Yermil,
Did he really mess up?
Did the clerks cheat?
But it turned out to be rubbish!
Altynnikov cheered up:
“It turns out it’s my mill!”
"No! - says Ermil,
Approaches the chairman. -
Is it possible for your honor
Wait for half an hour?
- What will you do in half an hour?
“I’ll bring the money!”
-Where can you find it? Are you sane?
Thirty-five versts to the mill,
And an hour later I'm present
The end, my dear!
“So, will you allow me half an hour?”
- We’ll probably wait an hour! -
Yermil went; clerks
The merchant and I exchanged glances,
Laugh, scoundrels!
To the square to the shopping area
Yermilo came (in the city
It was a market day)
He stood on the cart and saw: he was baptized,
On all four sides
Shouts: “Hey, good people!
Shut up, listen,
I’ll tell you my word!”
The crowded square became silent,
And then Yermil talks about the mill
He told the people:
“Long ago the merchant Altynnikov
Went to the mill,
Yes, I didn’t make a mistake either,
I checked in the city five times,
They said: with
Page 9 of 11
rebidding
Bidding has been scheduled.
Idle, you know
Transport the treasury to the peasant
A side road is not a hand:
I arrived penniless
And lo and behold, they got it wrong
No rebidding!
Vile souls have cheated,
And the infidels laugh:
“What in the world are you going to do?
Where will you find money?
Maybe I’ll find it, God is merciful!
Cunning, strong clerks,
And their world is stronger,
The merchant Altynnikov is rich,
And everything cannot resist him
Against the worldly treasury -
She's like a fish from the sea
For centuries to catch - not to catch.
Well, brothers! God sees
I'll get rid of it that Friday!
The mill is not dear to me,
The offense is great!
If you know Ermila,
If you believe Yermil,
So help me out, or something!..”
And a miracle happened:
Throughout the market square
Every peasant has
Like the wind, half left
Suddenly it turned upside down!
The peasantry forked out
They bring money to Yermil,
They give to those who are rich in what.
Yermilo is a literate guy,
Put your hat full
Tselkovikov, foreheads,
Burnt, beaten, tattered
Peasant bank notes.
Yermilo took it - he didn’t disdain
And a copper penny.
Still he would become disdainful,
When did I come across here
Another copper hryvnia
More than a hundred rubles!
The entire amount has already been fulfilled,
And people's generosity
Grew: - Take it, Ermil Ilyich,
If you give it away, it won’t go to waste! -
Yermil bowed to the people
On all four sides,
He walked into the ward with a hat,
Clutching the treasury in it.
The clerks were surprised
Altynnikov turned green,
How he completely the whole thousand
He laid it out on the table for them!..
Not a wolf's tooth, but a fox's tail, -
Let's go play around with the clerks,
Congratulations on your purchase!
Yes, Yermil Ilyich is not like that,
Didn't say too much.
I didn’t give them a penny!
The whole city came to watch,
Like on market day, Friday,
In a week's time
Ermil on the same square
People were counting.
Remember where everyone is?
At that time things were done
In a fever, in a hurry!
However, there were no disputes
And give out a penny too much
Yermil didn’t have to.
Also - he himself said -
An extra ruble, God knows whose!
Stayed with him.
All day with my money open
Yermil walked around and asked:
Whose ruble? I didn’t find it.
The sun has already set,
When from the market square
Yermil was the last to move,
Having given that ruble to the blind...
So this is what Ermil Ilyich is like. -
“Wonderful! - said the wanderers. -
However, it is advisable to know -
What kind of witchcraft
A man above the whole neighborhood
Did you take that kind of power?”
- Not by witchcraft, but by truth.
Have you heard about Hellishness?
Yurlov's prince's patrimony?
“You heard, so what?”
- It is the chief manager
There was a gendarmerie corps
Colonel with a star
He has five or six assistants with him,
And our Yermilo is a clerk
Was in the office.
The little one was twenty years old,
What will the clerk do?
However, for the peasant
And the clerk is a man.
You approach him first,
And he will advise
And he will make inquiries;
Where there is enough strength, it will help out,
Doesn't ask for gratitude
And if you give it, he won’t take it!
You need a bad conscience -
To the peasant from the peasant
Extort a penny.
In this way the whole estate
At five years old Yermil Girina
I found out well
And then he was kicked out...
They deeply pitied Girin,
It was hard to get used to something new,
Grabber, get used to it,
However, there is nothing to do
We got along in time
And to the new scribe.
He doesn't say a word without a thrasher,
Not a word without the seventh student,
Burnt, from the funhouses -
God told him to!
However, by the will of God,
He did not reign for long, -
The old prince died
The prince arrived when he was young,
I drove that colonel away.
I sent his assistant away
I drove the whole office away,
And he told us from the estate
Elect a mayor.
Well, we didn't think long
Six thousand souls, the whole estate
We shout: “Ermila Girina!” -
How one man is!
They call Ermila to the master.
After talking with the peasant,
From the balcony the prince shouts:
“Well, brothers! have it your way.
With my princely seal
Your choice is confirmed:
The guy is agile, competent,
I’ll say one thing: isn’t he young?..”
And we: - There is no need, father,
And young, and smart! -
Yermilo went to reign
Over the entire princely estate,
And he reigned!
In seven years the world's penny
I didn’t squeeze it under my nail,
At the age of seven I didn’t touch the right one,
He did not allow the guilty one to do so.
I didn’t bend my heart...
“Stop! - shouted reproachfully
Some gray-haired priest
To the storyteller. - You're sinning!
The harrow walked straight ahead,
Yes, suddenly she waved to the side -
The tooth hit the stone!
When I started to tell,
So don't throw out words
From the song: or to wanderers
Are you telling a fairy tale?..
I knew Ermila Girin..."
- I suppose I didn’t know?
We were one fiefdom,
The same parish
Yes, we were transferred...
“And if you knew Girin,
So I knew my brother Mitri,
Think about it, my friend."
The narrator became thoughtful
And, after a pause, he said:
– I lied: the word is superfluous
It went wrong!
There was a case, and Yermil the man
Going crazy: from recruiting
Little brother Mitri
He defended it.
We remain silent: there is nothing to argue here,
The master of the headman's brother himself
I wouldn't tell you to shave
One Nenila Vlaseva
She cries bitterly for her son,
Shouts: not our turn!
It is known that I would shout
Yes, I would have left with that.
So what? Ermil himself,
Having finished recruiting,
I began to feel sad, sad,
Doesn’t drink, doesn’t eat: that’s the end of it,
What's in the stall with the rope
His father found him.
Here the son repented to his father:
“Ever since Vlasyevna’s son
I didn't put it in the queue
I hate the white light!
And he himself reaches for the rope.
They tried to persuade
His father and brother
He’s all the same: “I’m a criminal!
The villain! tie my hands
Take me to court!”
So that worse doesn't happen,
The father tied the hearty one,
He posted a guard.
The world has come together, it is noisy, noisy,
Such a wonderful thing
Never had to
Neither see nor decide.
Ermilov family
That's not what we tried,
So that we can make peace for them,
And judge more strictly -
Return the boy to Vlasyevna,
Otherwise Yermil will hang himself,
You won't be able to spot him!
Yermil Ilyich himself came,
Barefoot, thin, with pads,
With a rope in my hands,
He came and said: “It was time,
I judged you according to my conscience,
Now I myself am more sinful than you:
Judge me!
And he bowed to our feet.
Neither give nor take the holy fool,
Stands, sighs, crosses himself,
It was a pity for us to see
Like him in front of the old woman,
In front of Nenila Vlaseva,
Suddenly he fell to his knees!
Well, everything worked out fine
Mister strong
There is a hand everywhere; Vlasyevna's son
He returned, they handed over Mitri,
Yes, they say, and Mitriya
It's not hard to serve
The prince himself takes care of him.
And for the offense with Girin
We put a fine:
Fine money for a recruit,
A small part of Vlasyevna,
Part of the world for wine...
However, after this
Yermil did not cope soon,
I walked around like crazy for about a year.
No matter how the patrimony asked,
Resigned from his position
I rented that mill
And he became thicker than before
Love to all the people:
He took it for the grind according to his conscience.
Didn't stop people
Clerk, manager,
Rich landowners
And the men are the poorest -
All lines were obeyed,
The order was strict!
I myself am already in that province
Haven't been in a while
And I heard about Ermila,
People don't brag about them,
You go to him.
“You’re passing through in vain,”
The one who argued has already said it
Gray-haired pop. -
I knew Ermila, Girin,
I ended up in that province
Five years ago
(I've traveled a lot in my life,
Our Eminence
Translate priests
Loved)… With Ermila Girin
We were neighbors.
Yes! there was only one man!
He had everything he needed
For happiness: and peace of mind,
And money and honor,
An enviable, true honor,
Not purchased either
Page 10 of 11
money,
Not with fear: with strict truth,
With intelligence and kindness!
Yes, just, I repeat to you,
You are passing in vain
He sits in prison...
“How so?”
- And the will of God!
Have any of you heard,
How the estate rebelled
Landowner Obrubkov,
Frightened province,
Nedykhanev County,
Village Tetanus?..
How to write about fires
In the newspapers (I read them):
"Remained unknown
Reason” – so here:
Until now it is unknown
Not to the zemstvo police officer,
Not to the highest government
Neither the tetanus themselves,
Why did the opportunity arise?
But it turned out to be rubbish.
It took an army.
The Sovereign himself sent
He spoke to the people
Then he’ll try to curse
And shoulders with epaulets
Will lift you high
Then he will try with affection
And chests with royal crosses
In all four directions
It will start turning.
Yes, the abuse was unnecessary here,
And the caress is incomprehensible:
“Orthodox peasantry!
Mother Rus'! Father Tsar!
And nothing more!
Having been beaten enough
They wanted it for the soldiers
Command: fall!
Yes to the volost clerk
A happy thought came here,
It's about Ermila Girin
He said to the boss:
- The people will believe Girin,
The people will listen to him... -
“Call him quickly!”
…………………………….
Suddenly a cry: “Ay, ah! have mercy!”,
Suddenly sounding out,
Disturbed the priest's speech,
Everyone rushed to look:
At the road roller
Flog a drunken footman -
Caught stealing!
Where he is caught, here is his judgment:
About three dozen judges came together,
We decided to give a spoonful,
And everyone gave a vine!
The footman jumped up and, spanking
Skinny shoemakers
Without a word, he gave me the traction.
“Look, he ran like he was disheveled! -
Our wanderers joked
Recognizing him as a baluster,
That he was bragging about something
Read this book in its entirety by purchasing the full legal version (http://www.litres.ru/nikolay-nekrasov/komu-na-rusi-zhit-horosho/?lfrom=279785000) on liters.
Notes
Kosushka is an ancient measure of liquid, approximately 0.31 liters.
The cuckoo stops crowing when the bread begins to spike (“choking on the ear,” people say).
Floodplain meadows are located in the floodplain of a river. When the river that flooded them during the flood subsided, a layer of natural fertilizer remained on the soil, which is why tall grasses grew here. Such meadows were especially valued.
This refers to the fact that until 1869, a seminary graduate could receive a parish only if he married the daughter of a priest who left his parish. It was believed that in this way the “purity of the class” was maintained.
A parish is an association of believers.
Raskolniks are opponents of the reforms of Patriarch Nikon (XVII century).
Parishioners are regular visitors to the church parish.
Mat - building: end. Checkmate is the end of the game in chess.
Airs are embroidered bedspreads made of velvet, brocade or silk, used during church ceremonies.
Sam is the first part of unchangeable compound adjectives with ordinal or cardinal numerals, with the meaning “so many times more.” Bread itself is a harvest that is twice as large as the amount of grain sown.
Cool rainbow - to the bucket; flat - for rain.
Pyatak – copper coin in denomination of 5 kopecks.
Treba - “the performance of a sacrament or sacred rite” (V.I. Dal).
Smelt is a cheap small fish, lake smelt.
Anathema is a church curse.
Yarmonka – i.e. fair.
St. Nicholas of the Spring is a religious holiday celebrated on May 9 according to the old style (May 22 according to the new style).
A religious procession is a solemn procession of believers with crosses, icons, and banners.
Shlyk - “hat, cap, cap, cap” (V.I. Dal).
Kabak is “a drinking house, a place for selling vodka, sometimes also beer and honey” (V.I. Dal).
A tent is a temporary space for trade, usually a light frame covered with canvas, and later with tarpaulin.
French chintz is a crimson-colored chintz usually dyed using madder, a dye made from the roots of a herbaceous perennial plant.
Equestrian – part of the fair where horses were traded.
Roe deer is a type of heavy plow or light plow with one ploughshare, which rolled the earth only in one direction. In Russia, roe deer was usually used in the northeastern regions.
A cart machine is the main part of a four-wheeled vehicle or cart. It holds the body, wheels and axles.
A harness is a part of the harness that fits the sides and croup of a horse, usually made of leather.
Kimryaks are residents of the city of Kimry. At the time of Nekrasov, it was a large village, 55% of whose residents were shoemakers.
Ofenya is a peddler, “a petty trader peddling and delivering to small towns, villages, hamlets, with books, paper, silk, needles, with cheese and sausage, with earrings and rings” (V.I. Dal).
Doka is a “master of his craft” (V.I. Dal).
Those. more orders.
Those. not military, but civilians (then civilians).
A dignitary is a high-level official.
Lubyanka - street and square in Moscow, in the 19th century. center for the wholesale trade of popular prints and books.
Blucher Gebhard Leberecht - Prussian general, commander-in-chief of the Prussian-Saxon army, which decided the outcome of the Battle of Waterloo and defeated Napoleon. Military successes made the name of Blucher very popular in Russia.
Archimandrite Photius - in the world Peter Nikitich Spassky, a leader of the Russian church in the 20s. XIX century, was repeatedly joked about in the epigrams of A.S. Pushkin, for example, “Conversation between Photius and gr. Orlova", "On Photius".
The robber Sipko is an adventurer who pretended to be different people, incl. for retired captain I.A. Sipko. In 1860, his trial attracted great public attention.
“Balakirev the Jester” is a popular collection of jokes: “Balakirev’s complete collection of jokes of the jester who was at the court of Peter the Great.”
“The English My Lord” is the most popular work of the 18th century writer Matvey Komarov at that time, “The Tale of the Adventures of the English My Lord George and his Brandenburg Countess Friederike Louise.”
“Goat” is the name given to an actor in the folk theater-booth, on whose head a goat’s head made of burlap was mounted.
Drummer - drumming attracted the audience to performances.
Riga - a barn for drying sheaves and threshing (with a roof, but almost without walls).
Fifty kopecks is a coin worth 50 kopecks.
The Tsar's Charter is the Tsar's letter.
Excise tax is a type of tax on consumer goods.
Sudarka is a lover.
Sotsky was elected from the peasants, who performed police functions.
A spindle is a hand-held tool for spinning yarn.
Tat – “thief, predator, kidnapper” (V.I. Dal).
Kocha is a form of the word “humock” in the Yaroslavl-Kostroma dialect.
Zazhorina - snow water in a hole along the road.
Pletyukha - in northern dialects - a large, tall basket.
Pastures - in Tambov-Ryazan dialects - meadows, pastures; in Arkhangelsk - belongings,
Page 11 of 11
property.
Compassion - state of mind, conducive to mercy, goodness, goodness.
Vertograd of Christ is synonymous with paradise.
Arshin is an ancient Russian measure of length equal to 0.71 m.
Olonchanin is a resident of Olonets province.
Peun is a rooster.
A cockerel is a person who fattens roosters for sale.
Truffle is a round-shaped mushroom growing underground. The French black truffle was especially highly prized.
Bonfire - woody parts of flax, hemp, etc. stems.
End of introductory fragment.
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Here is an introductory fragment of the book.
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In what year - calculate
Guess what land?
On the sidewalk
Seven men came together:
Seven temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
From adjacent villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
There is also a poor harvest,
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'?
Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
Luke said: ass.
To the fat-bellied merchant! -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Old man Pakhom pushed
And he said, looking at the ground:
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king...
The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock them out: they resist,
Everyone stands on their own!
Is this the kind of argument they started?
What do passers-by think?
You know, the kids found the treasure
And they share among themselves...
Each one in his own way
Left the house before noon:
That path led to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
Baptize the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two Gubina brothers
So easy with a halter
Catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It's high time for everyone
Return on your own way -
They are walking side by side!
They walk as if they are being chased
Behind them are gray wolves,
What's further is quick.
They go - they reproach!
They scream - they won’t come to their senses!
But time doesn’t wait.
They didn’t notice the dispute
As the red sun set,
How evening came.
I'd probably kiss you all night
So they went - where, not knowing,
If only they met a woman,
Gnarled Durandiha,
She didn’t shout: “Reverends!
Where are you looking at night?
Have you decided to go?..”
She asked, she laughed,
Whipped, witch, gelding
And she rode off at a gallop...
“Where?..” - they looked at each other
Our men are here
They stand, silent, looking down...
The night has long since passed,
The stars lit up frequently
In the high skies
The moon has surfaced, the shadows are black
The road was cut
Zealous walkers.
Oh shadows! black shadows!
Who won't you catch up with?
Who won't you overtake?
Only you, black shadows,
You can't catch it - you can't hug it!
To the forest, to the path-path
Pakhom looked, remained silent,
I looked - my mind scattered
And finally he said:
"Well! goblin nice joke
He played a joke on us!
No way, after all, we are almost
We've gone thirty versts!
Now tossing and turning home -
We're tired - we won't get there,
Let's sit down - there's nothing to do.
Let's rest until the sun!..”
Blaming the trouble on the devil,
Under the forest along the path
The men sat down.
They lit a fire, formed a formation,
Two people ran for vodka,
And the others as long as
The glass was made
The birch bark has been touched.
The vodka arrived soon.
The snack has arrived -
The men are feasting!
Braids [Kosushka is an ancient measure of liquid, approximately 0.31 liters.] drank three
We ate and argued
Again: who has fun living?
Free in Rus'?
Roman shouts: to the landowner,
Demyan shouts: to the official,
Luka shouts: ass;
Kupchina fat-bellied, -
The Gubin brothers are shouting,
Ivan and Mitrodor;
Pakhom shouts: to the brightest
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister,
And Prov shouts: to the king!
It took more than before
Perky men,
They swear obscenely,
No wonder they grab it
In each other's hair...
Look - they've already grabbed it!
Roman is pushing Pakhomushka,
Demyan pushes Luka.
And the two Gubina brothers
They iron the hefty Prov, -
And everyone shouts his own!
A booming echo woke up,
Let's go for a walk,
Let's go scream and shout
As if to tease
Stubborn men.
To the Tsar! - heard to the right
To the left responds:
Ass! ass! ass!
The whole forest was in commotion
With flying birds
Swift-footed beasts
And creeping reptiles, -
And a groan, and a roar, and a roar!
First of all, little gray bunny
From a neighboring bush
Suddenly he jumped out, as if disheveled,
And he ran away!
Small jackdaws are behind him
Birch trees were raised at the top
A nasty, sharp squeak.
And then there’s the warbler
Tiny chick with fright
Fell from the nest;
The warbler chirps and cries,
Where is the chick? – he won’t find it!
Then the old cuckoo
I woke up and thought
Someone to cuckoo;
Accepted ten times
Yes, I got lost every time
And started again...
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!
The bread will begin to spike,
You'll choke on an ear of corn -
You won't cuckoo! [The cuckoo stops cuckooing when the grain begins to spike (“choking on the grain,” people say).]
Seven eagle owls flew together,
Admiring the carnage
From seven big trees,
They're laughing, night owls!
And their eyes are yellow
They burn like burning wax
Fourteen candles!
And the raven, a smart bird,
Arrived, sitting on a tree
Right by the fire.
Sits and prays to the devil,
To be slapped to death
Which one!
Cow with a bell
That I got lost in the evening
From the herd, I heard a little
She came to the fire and stared
Eyes on the men
I listened to crazy speeches
And began, my heart,
Moo, moo, moo!
The stupid cow moos
Small jackdaws squeak.
The boys are screaming,
And the echo echoes everyone.
He has only one concern -
Teasing honest people
Scare the boys and women!
Nobody saw him
And everyone has heard,
Without a body - but it lives,
Without a tongue - screams!
Owl - Zamoskvoretskaya
The princess immediately mooed,
Flies over the peasants
Crashing on the ground,
It’s about the bushes with the wing...
The fox herself is cunning,
Out of womanish curiosity,
Snuck up on the men
I listened, I listened
And she walked away, thinking:
“And the devil won’t understand them!”
Indeed: the debaters themselves
They hardly knew, they remembered -
What are they making noise about...
Having bruised my sides quite a bit
To each other, we came to our senses
Finally, the peasants
They drank from a puddle,
Washed, freshened up,
Sleep began to tilt them...
Meanwhile, the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
I got close to the fire.
Pakhomushka caught him,
He brought it to the fire and looked at it
And he said: “Little bird,
And the marigold is awesome!
I breathe and you'll roll off your palm,
If I sneeze, you'll roll into the fire,
If I click, you'll roll around dead
But you, little bird,
Stronger than a man!
The wings will soon get stronger,
Bye bye! wherever you want
That's where you'll fly!
Oh, you little birdie!
Give us your wings
We'll fly around the whole kingdom,
Let's see, let's explore,
Let's ask around and find out:
Who lives happily?
Is it at ease in Rus'?
“You wouldn’t even need wings,
If only we had some bread
Half a pound a day, -
And so we would Mother Rus'
They tried it on with their feet!” -
Said the gloomy Prov.
“Yes, a bucket of vodka,” -
They added eagerly
Before vodka, the Gubin brothers,
Ivan and Metrodor.
“Yes, in the morning there would be cucumbers
Ten of salty ones,” -
The men were joking.
“And at noon it would be a jug
Cold kvass."
“And in the evening, have a cup of tea
Have some hot tea..."
While they were chatting,
The warbler whirled and whirled
Above them: listened to everything
And she sat down by the fire.
Chiviknula, jumped up
Pahomu says:
“Let the chick go free!
For a chick for a small one
I will give a large ransom."
- What will you give? -
“I’ll give you some bread
Half a pound a day
I'll give you a bucket of vodka,
I'll give you some cucumbers in the morning,
And at noon, sour kvass,
And in the evening, tea!”
- And where, little birdie, -
The Gubin brothers asked,
You will find wine and bread
Are you like seven men? -
“If you find it, you will find it yourself.
And I, little birdie,
I'll tell you how to find it."
- Tell! -
"Walk through the forest,
Against pillar thirty
Just a mile away:
Come to the clearing,
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees
Under these pine trees
The box is buried.
Get her, -
That magic box:
It contains a self-assembled tablecloth,
Whenever you wish,
He will feed you and give you something to drink!
Just say quietly:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!” Opening your palm wide,
He released the chick with his groin.
He let it in - and the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
Headed towards the hollow.
A warbler flew behind him
And on the fly she added:
“Look, mind you, one thing!
How much food can he bear?
Womb - then ask,
And you can ask for vodka
Exactly a bucket a day.
If you ask more,
And once and twice - it will be fulfilled
At your request,
And the third time there will be trouble!
And the warbler flew away
With your birth chick,
And the men in single file
We reached for the road
Look for pillar thirty.
Found! - They walk silently
Straightforward, straight forward
Through the dense forest,
Every step counts.
And how they measured the mile,
We saw a clearing -
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees...
The peasants dug around
Got that box
Opened and found
That tablecloth is self-assembled!
They found it and cried out at once:
“Hey, self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!”
Lo and behold, the tablecloth unfolded,
Where did they come from?
Two hefty arms
They put a bucket of wine,
They piled up a mountain of bread
And they hid again.
“Why are there no cucumbers?”
“Why is there no hot tea?”
“Why is there no cold kvass?”
Everything appeared suddenly...
The peasants got loose
They sat down by the tablecloth.
There's a feast here!
Kissing for joy
They promise each other
Don't fight in vain,
But the matter is really controversial
According to reason, according to God,
On the honor of the story -
Don't toss and turn in the houses,
Don't see your wives
Not with the little guys
Not with old people,
As long as the matter is moot
No solution will be found
Until they find out
No matter what for certain:
Who lives happily?
Free in Rus'?
Having made such a vow,
In the morning like dead
The work of Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov is dedicated to the deep problems of the Russian people. The heroes of his story, ordinary peasants, go on a journey in search of a person to whom life does not bring happiness. So who can live well in Rus'? A summary of the chapters and an annotation to the poem will help you understand the main idea of the work.
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The idea and history of the creation of the poem
Nekrasov’s main idea was to create a poem for the people, in which they could recognize themselves not only in the general idea, but also in the little things, everyday life, behavior, see their strengths and weaknesses, and find their place in life.
The author succeeded in his idea. Nekrasov spent years collecting the necessary material, planning his work entitled “Who Lives Well in Rus'?” much more voluminous than the one that came out at the end. As many as eight full-fledged chapters were planned, each of which was supposed to be a separate work with a complete structure and idea. The only thing unifying link- seven ordinary Russian peasants, men who travel around the country in search of the truth.
In the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'?” four parts, the order and completeness of which is a source of controversy for many scholars. Nevertheless, the work looks holistic and leads to a logical end - one of the characters finds the very recipe for Russian happiness. It is believed that Nekrasov completed the end of the poem, already knowing about his imminent death. Wanting to bring the poem to completion, he moved the end of the second part to the end of the work.
It is believed that the author began to write “Who can live well in Rus'?” around 1863 - shortly after. Two years later, Nekrasov completed the first part and marked the manuscript with this date. The subsequent ones were ready by 72, 73, 76 years of the 19th century, respectively.
Important! The work began to be published in 1866. This process turned out to be long and lasted four years. The poem was difficult to accept by critics, the highest authorities of that time brought down a lot of criticism on it, the author, along with his work, was persecuted. Despite this, “Who can live well in Rus'?” was published and well received by ordinary people.
Abstract to the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'?”: it consists of the first part, which contains a prologue introducing the reader to the main acting characters, five chapters and excerpts from the second (“Last One” of 3 chapters) and the third part (“Peasant Woman” of 7 chapters). The poem ends with the chapter “A Feast for the Whole World” and an epilogue.
Prologue
“Who can live well in Rus'?” starts with a prologue summary which is: meet seven main characters- ordinary Russian men from the people who came from the Terpigorev district.
Each one comes from their own village, the name of which, for example, was Dyryaevo or Neelovo. Having met, the men begin to actively argue with each other about who will truly live well in Rus'. This phrase will be the leitmotif of the work, its main plot.
Each offers a variant of the class that is now thriving. These were:
- priests;
- landowners;
- officials;
- merchants;
- boyars and ministers;
- tsar.
Guys argue so much it's getting out of control a fight starts- the peasants forget what they were going to do and go in a direction unknown to anyone. In the end, they wander into the wilderness, decide not to go anywhere else until the morning and wait out the night in a clearing.
Because of the noise, the chick falls out of the nest, one of the wanderers catches it and dreams that if it had wings, it would fly around all of Rus'. Others add that you can do without wings, if only you had something to drink and a good snack, then you can travel until you are old.
Attention! The bird - the mother of the chick, in exchange for her child, tells the men where it is possible find the treasure- a self-assembled tablecloth, but warns that you cannot ask for more than a bucket of alcohol per day - otherwise there will be trouble. The men actually find the treasure, after which they promise each other not to leave each other until they find the answer to the question of who should live well in this state.
First part. Chapter 1
The first chapter tells about the meeting of the men with the priest. They walked for a long time, and they met ordinary people - beggars, peasants, soldiers. The disputants did not even try to talk to those, because they knew from themselves that the common people had no happiness. Having met the priest's cart, the wanderers block the path and talk about the dispute, asking the main question, who lives well in Rus', asking, Are the priests happy?.
Pop responds as follows:
- A person has happiness only if his life combines three features - peace, honor and wealth.
- He explains that priests have no peace, starting from how troublesome it is for them to get the rank and ending with the fact that every day they listen to the cries of dozens of people, which does not add peace to life.
- Lots of money now It's hard for priests to make money, since the nobles, who previously performed rituals in their native villages, now do it in the capital, and the clergy have to live off the peasants alone, from whom there is a meager income.
- The people of the priests also do not indulge them with respect, they make fun of them, avoid them, there is no way to hear a good word from anyone.
After the priest’s speech, the men shyly hide their eyes and understand that the life of priests in the world is not at all sweet. When the clergyman leaves, the debaters attack the one who suggested that the priests have a good life. Things would have come to a fight, but the priest appeared on the road again.
Chapter 2
The men walk along the roads for a long time, and almost no one meets them; they can ask who can live well in Rus'. In the end they find out that in the village of Kuzminskoye rich fair, since the village is not poor. There are two churches, a closed school and even a not very clean hotel where you can stay. It's no joke, there is a paramedic in the village.
The most important thing is that there are as many as 11 taverns here who do not have time to pour drinks for the merry people. All peasants drink a lot. There is an upset grandfather standing at the shoe shop, who promised to bring boots to his granddaughter, but drank the money away. The master Pavlusha Veretennikov appears and pays for the purchase.
Books are also sold at the fair, but people are interested in the most mediocre books; neither Gogol nor Belinsky are in demand or interesting to the common people, despite the fact that these writers defend interests of ordinary people. At the end, the heroes get so drunk that they fall to the ground, watching as the church “shakes”.
Chapter 3
In this chapter, the debaters again find Pavel Veretennikov, who actually collects folklore, stories and expressions of the Russian people. Pavel tells the peasants around him that they drink too much alcohol, and for those drunken night- for happiness.
Yakim Golyy objects to this, arguing that simple the peasant drinks a lot not from his own desire, but because he works hard, he is constantly haunted by grief. Yakim tells his story to those around him - having bought his son pictures, Yakim loved them no less, so when the fire happened, he was the first to take these pictures out of the hut. In the end, the money he had saved throughout his life was gone.
After listening to this, the men sit down to eat. Afterwards, one of them remains to watch the bucket of vodka, and the rest again head into the crowd to find a person who considers himself happy in this world.
Chapter 4
Men walk the streets and promise to treat the happiest person among the people with vodka in order to find out who lives well in Rus', but only deeply unhappy people who want to drink to console themselves. Those who want to brag about something good find that their petty happiness does not answer the main question. For example, a Belarusian is happy that they make rye bread here, which doesn’t give him stomach cramps, so he’s happy.
As a result, the bucket of vodka runs out, and the debaters understand that they will not find the truth this way, but one of those who came says to look for Ermila Girin. We respect Ermil very much in the village, the peasants say that it is very good man. They even tell the story that when Girin wanted to buy a mill, but there was no money for a deposit, he raised a whole thousand in loans from the common people and managed to deposit the money.
A week later, Yermil gave away everything he had borrowed, and until the evening he asked those around him who else to approach and give the last remaining ruble.
Girin earned such trust by the fact that, while serving as a clerk for the prince, he did not take money from anyone, but on the contrary, ordinary people helped, so when they were going to choose the burgomaster, they chose him, Yermil justified the appointment. At the same time, the priest says that he is unhappy, since he is already in prison, and he does not have time to tell why, since a thief is discovered in the company.
Chapter 5
Next, the travelers meet a landowner, who, in response to the question of who can live well in Rus', tells them about his noble roots - the founder of his family, the Tatar Oboldui, was skinned by a bear for the laughter of the empress, who in return presented many expensive gifts.
The landowner complains, that the peasants were taken away, so there is no more law on their lands, forests are cut down, drinking establishments are multiplying - the people do what they want, and this makes them poor. He goes on to say that he was not used to working since childhood, but here he has to do it because the serfs were taken away.
Contritely, the landowner leaves, and the men feel sorry for him, thinking that on the one hand, after the abolition of serfdom, the peasants suffered, and on the other, the landowners, that this whip lashed all classes.
Part 2. The last one - summary
This part of the poem talks about the extravagant Prince Utyatin, who, having learned that serfdom canceled, fell ill with a heart attack and promised to disinherit his sons. Those, frightened by such a fate, persuaded the men to play along with the old father, bribing them with a promise to donate the meadows to the village.
Important! Characteristics of Prince Utyatin: a selfish person who loves to feel power, therefore he is ready to force others to do completely meaningless things. He feels complete impunity and thinks that this is where the future of Russia lies.
Some peasants willingly played along with the lord’s request, while others, for example Agap Petrov, could not come to terms with the fact that they had to bow before someone in the wild. Finding yourself in a situation in which it is impossible to achieve the truth, Agap Petrov dies from pangs of conscience and mental anguish.
At the end of the chapter, Prince Utyatin rejoices at the return of serfdom, speaks of its correctness at his own feast, which is attended by seven travelers, and at the end calmly dies in the boat. At the same time, no one is giving the meadows to the peasants, and the trial on this issue is not over to this day, as the men found out.
Part 3. Peasant woman
This part of the poem is dedicated to the search for female happiness, but ends with the fact that there is no happiness and such happiness will never be found. The wanderers meet the peasant woman Matryona - a beautiful, stately woman of 38 years old. Wherein Matryona is deeply unhappy, considers himself an old woman. She has a difficult fate; she only had joy in childhood. After the girl got married, her husband went to work, leaving his pregnant wife behind. big family husband.
The peasant woman had to feed her husband's parents, who only mocked her and did not help her. Even after giving birth, they were not allowed to take the child with them, since the woman did not work enough with him. The baby was looked after by an elderly grandfather, the only one who treated Matryona normally, but due to his age, he did not look after the baby; he was eaten by pigs.
Matryona also gave birth to children afterwards, but she could not forget her first son. The peasant woman forgave the old man who had gone to the monastery out of grief and took him home, where he soon died. She herself, pregnant, came to the governor’s wife, asked to return my husband due to the difficult situation. Since Matryona gave birth right in the waiting room, the governor’s wife helped the woman, which is why people began to call her happy, which in fact was far from the case.
In the end, the wanderers, having not found female happiness and having not received an answer to their question - who can live well in Rus', moved on.
Part 4. A feast for the whole world - the conclusion of the poem
It happens in the same village. The main characters have gathered at a feast and are having fun, telling different stories to find out which of the people in Rus' will live well. The conversation turned to Yakov, a peasant who revered the master very much, but did not forgive him when he gave his nephew as a soldier. As a result, Yakov took his owner into the forest and hanged himself, but he could not get out because his legs did not work. What follows is a long debate about who is more sinful in this situation.
The men share different stories about the sins of peasants and landowners, deciding who is more honest and righteous. The crowd as a whole is quite unhappy, including the men - the main characters, only the young seminarian Grisha wants to devote himself to serving the people and their well-being. He loves his mother very much and is ready to pour it out on the village.
Grisha walks and sings that a glorious path awaits ahead, a resounding name in history, he is inspired by this, and is not even afraid of the expected outcome - Siberia and death from consumption. The debaters do not notice Grisha, but in vain, because this the only happy person in the poem, having understood this, they could find the answer to their question - who can live well in Russia.
When finishing the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'?”, the author wanted to finish his work differently, but approaching death forced add optimism and hope at the end of the poem, to give “light at the end of the road” to the Russian people.
N.A. Nekrasov, “Who Lives Well in Rus'” - summary