THEY MOCK YOU
During Yeltsin’s second reign, it is unknown how your humble servant was included in the two-volume reference book “Influential, famous people cities 1997-1998.” I present my answers to the questions (Volume I, p. 314) not out of vanity - it is still interesting to compare what was thought and dreamed about an era ago.
So, “plans for the future: publishing an Orthodox children’s newspaper “Chadushki” (done), creating an Orthodox publishing house, a pilgrimage service (did not work), increasing the circulation of newspapers (slightly and with great difficulty), becoming a church member” (more difficult than I thought: many mistakes and temptations. But - I found an experienced spiritual father in the person of Archpriest John Mironov).
« Free time likes to spend time in church, in a monastery, on pilgrimages in an Orthodox country, reading patristic literature. “All thoughts are about work.” (It’s all true, only I go on pilgrimages less and less due to lack of health. Thoughts about work do not let me go: the director of Orthodox St. Petersburg LLC, publisher, founder, editor-in-chief and distributor of five Orthodox newspapers in one person has his mouth full of worries).
“The work of the poet, hieromonk Roman (Matyushin), scientist and journalist L. Ilyunina, whom I would like to see among the participants in the Yearbook, evokes respect.” (As for Hieromonk Roman, over the past years I have fallen in love with him even more; his poems and prayers often appear on the pages of our newspapers. I am completely disappointed in the above-mentioned journalist).
“The works of Metropolitan John of St. Petersburg (Snychev †1995) evoke the greatest respect. Everything else is only in connection with Orthodoxy, whether it serves God or leads away from Him.” (I still love Vladika John and pray as best I can).
He sees his contribution to the future of St. Petersburg in leaving behind the firmly standing newspaper “Orthodox St. Petersburg” and its “sisters” - “this is the greatest happiness.” (Now I think differently: everything is in God’s hands).
“Nothing good awaits Russia in the near future: “The country has forgotten the word “decency,” “morality,” “conscience,” and there are thieves in the government. Russia continues to be colonized. Ecumenical tendencies (and church bureaucracy) are strong in Orthodoxy. Alexander Rakov." (I would add to what has been said: the country is falling apart at the seams, and our will to live is disappearing, indifference to everything - in Orthodoxy it is called lukewarmness - has gripped people).
HOMELAND
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
Poor looking black huts...
So son, calm and impudent,
Ashamed of his mother -
Tired, timid and sad
Among his city friends,
Looks with a smile of compassion
To the one who wandered hundreds of miles
And for him, on the date of the date,
She saved her last penny.
Ivan Bunin †1953
We don’t even want to notice that our technocratic world is becoming more and more vulnerable. The electricity will go out - the TV screen will go dark, the radio will go silent, newspapers will stop publishing, computers will turn into trinkets, production will stop, there will be no fuel for cars, governments will perish, and birch bark will again become a means of writing, and we will move on our own two feet, and we will return again live in warm wooden huts, fertilize the gardens with manure, and store food in cellars.
TV gives us speeches,
He pronounces them at dawn
Short-lived little man
Living in a soap bubble.
Sergey Nikolaev, St. Petersburg
Don't believe me? Turn off the lights in your cozy apartment on the 16th floor for a day...
†“The rose covered with thorns gives people the following beautiful instruction: “Everything that is most pleasant in this world, O mortals, is mixed with sorrow; you do not have pure blessings here, but everywhere and in everything there is some kind of evil mixed with good: with pleasure there is repentance, with marriage - widowhood, with abundance - labors and worries, with exaltation - fear of fall, with nobility - unnecessary costs, with with pleasures - satiety, with health - illnesses.” St. Basil the Great.
NATURE
Apparently we've gone overboard on something.
They began to misunderstand something:
Everyone conquered you - they didn’t conquer you,
What does it mean to be your own mother?
And isn’t it for these claims
And is it not for this absurd temper
You are sending us as punishment,
Having punished the children who went too far,
Those most destructive landslides
That dry wind is sharper than a knife,
Something unprecedented before
How you shake it like an earthquake!..
Have we forgotten that we were
Were and are you in debt?..
I'm from the noise and the dust
Every spring I run into the forests.
Everything that is envious and arrogant,
You teach me not to accept...
Here's a bow to you and thank you,
Do you hear, thank you, Mother Nature!..
Nikolay Starshinov born 1924
In Arkhangelsk, a former employee of Gorgaz, in retaliation to his superiors for what he considered to be an unfair dismissal, unscrewed the gas plugs in one of the houses in the dead of night. The explosion destroyed an entire entrance, killing 58 people and injuring more than a hundred...
When exchanging the apartment in which we now live, an elderly and seemingly respectable man cut the electrical wires, the television cable, pulled out the door handles, and removed the linoleum from the floor - just to make it impossible for him to leave his ex-wife. The exchange nevertheless took place - thanks to the fact that the ex-husband received the lion's share of the money from the sale of the apartment...
The former employee of Gorgaz did not even think about the possible victims of his act, and the ex-husband did not care about the future tenants - he would have hurt his wife more, since she did not want to live with him anymore.
What kind of breed of people is this? Orthodoxy teaches us to forgive even those who are obviously guilty: “Then Peter came to Him and said: Lord! How many times should I forgive my brother who sins against me? up to seven times? Jesus says to him, “I do not say to you, until seven, but until seventy times seven” (Matt. 18:21).
How to learn this, Lord? You order to forgive everyone and everything, but on their faces there is neither repentance nor pity for the pain and misfortune of others; and only a demonic grin of joy from the evil done darkens their faces...
The wolf will not kill the wolf cub,
A brood of bitterns and muskrats are nibbling,
Man is the opposite.
The holidays turned into a party.
Labor has diverged from craft.
The human race, it doesn't know the difference,
What to save, what to scrap...
...Our children look like wolves
To the cruelty of their fathers,
And in the night they race motorcycles
A wild flock of fugitives.
This is how we live. We're used to everything
But let us realize that life will pass.
The raven will not peck out the crow's eyes,
A wolf will not kill a wolf cub.
Valentin Golubev, St. Petersburg
CREATE – IN THAT MOMENT ONLY KNOW GOD
Is anyone interested in how poetry is sometimes written and tortured? The first stanza is almost there:
And Strauss sounds float over the bow...
What should I write next?...
*Bloody difficult Victory, the desired child;
*I am the desired child of our Victory - flesh;
*The Vienna Woods, my father, whispered Russian fairy tales to me;
*I am the desired child of our Russian Victory; glad - nearby;
*When the Vienna Woods whispered Russian fairy tales to me; 33 years from-
tsu, 32 to mother;
*And I knew then that I didn’t need anything,
That both mother and father will be happy; toothless mouth;
*He is thirty-three. Breathe deeply - people;
*Major. Two sons. Beautiful wife;
*I am the desired child of our Victory - a living reward,
The Vienna Woods whispered Russian fairy tales to me;
*I am our Victory's living reward,
I am father and mother's desired child
The happy father, the cross, pressed his son to his chest, tra-ta-ta;
*I am the hero’s father and mother’s desired child,
The Vienna Woods whispered Russian fairy tales to me.
I am a living reward of the glorious Victory -
The medals were ringing, the father was happy;
*My son pressed his son to medals;
The happy father carried his son on his chest;
*I shouldn’t know, but I remember and know
How happy dad was, with immeasurable joy he was ringing;
*Like a glorious Victory a living reward;
*And the father presses his son to his chest;
*My father pressed my son to the medals;
*The father presses his son to his chest;
*The father presses his son to the medals.
Finally, after two weeks of agony:
I was born in Vienna, the birthplace of the waltz,
In the distant now forty-seventh...
Thin fingers dance across the keys,
And Strauss sounds float behind the bow...
I am the father-hero's desired child,
The Vienna Woods whispered Russian fairy tales to me.
Like a glorious Victory a living reward,
The father presses his son to the medals.
Alexander Rakov
One very smart person said that both writing a brilliant poem and a not so brilliant one requires exactly the same amount of mental energy. Therefore, when we write poetry, we all become like a genius... Another smart person noted: the peculiarity of poetry is that, when starting to write a poem, a person cannot foresee how it will end. And one more thing: the structure of the poem itself is very reminiscent human life. And let's not forget that the Bible is written in verse.
I'm crying, yes! and I feel in my spirit,
That, drawing your ideal,
All my pure, holy soul,
The artist believed in his work.
And, crying, I cry out in my thoughts
To you, singer of our native country,
I pray and conjure you -
So that you believe with me:
Not for momentary success,
Not for insignificant words and charms,
Not for blasphemy, not for laughs
God's gift has been sent to you!
Don't go to the temple of art
Neither in passing, nor as a thief,
So that for a blessed thought or feeling
Steal fire and run away...
Enter it only full of fear,
In it, every step of yours be holy.
Let the raging waves surround you
Only distant echoes sound there.
Owning the delight of your feelings,
Create - at that moment only know God,
Into your creations, without regret,
Place your soul in prayer!
Apollo Maykov †1897
"Motherland" Ivan Bunin
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
Poor looking black huts...So son, calm and impudent,
Ashamed of his mother -
Tired, timid and sad
Among his city friends,Looks with a smile of compassion
To the one who wandered hundreds of miles
And for him, on the date of the date,
She saved her last penny.
Analysis of Bunin's poem "Motherland"
The theme of the Motherland in Russian literature is perhaps the most pressing. Almost every poet or writer has works where the creators reflect on the fate of their country. At the same time, each poet has his own image of the Motherland. For example, reading the poems of A. S. Pushkin, we imagine a meek Orthodox martyr. In the works of N. A. Nekrasov, Russia appears as a stern woman who is constantly exposed to the blows of fate, but remains unshakable and proud. S. A. Yesenin gives Rus' the appearance of an eternally young pagan girl, dancing among ripe ears of corn and slender birches.
Ivan Alekseevich Bunin also had his own idea of the Motherland. The poet expressed it in the poem “To the Motherland (They mock you...),” written in 1891. The main technique that the author uses in this work is personification. Both the Motherland and its citizens are shown as living people with a characteristic appearance and their own character.
The poet himself acts as an observer. He speaks in the first person, addressing his main character - Russia. In the first quatrain, the homeland does not yet acquire human features. Here the author rather paints a landscape, from which he then borrows colors to depict the appearance of his animated heroine.
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
The miserable look of the black huts...
The poet uses bleak epithets to show what the Motherland is like in his eyes: “a miserable appearance,” it looks “tired, timid and sad.”
Probably, Ivan Alekseevich’s worldview was influenced by the fact that he grew up not in the sparkling capital, but in a quiet province. Since childhood, the poet was close to ordinary people. He saw villagers working to grow grain that was sold and brought wealth to the elite of society. That is why Russia appears in the author’s eyes as a poor peasant woman dressed in dirty rags. All her life she works sparingly to make her sons - aristocrats and officers - well-fed.
It seems that by using the faceless “they,” the poet means those citizens who, having been nurtured by their homeland, have the audacity to criticize it. Perhaps some of these proud people actually have good education to discuss how best to “equip Russia.” But with their inherent snobbery, the poet characterizes him with the epithet “son, calm and impudent,” they prefer to dream of a great future and a proud homeland, and not notice reality.
The poem makes a heavy impression. We cannot help but sympathize with Russia, created by the poet’s talent. The author gave her appearance a naturalistic look, using words that reflect her peasant origins - “black huts”, “hundreds of miles”. We also cannot help but condemn the heroine’s arrogant sons. Ivan Alekseevich, with his characteristic laconicism, managed to create an expressive image that touches the reader to the quick.
I. A. Bunin († 1953)
Ivan Alekseevich Bunin(1870 – 1953) - Russian writer. He belonged to an old noble family. Born on October 22, 1870 in Voronezh. He spent his early childhood on a small family estate (the Butyrka farmstead of Yeletsk district, Oryol province). At the age of ten he was sent to the Yeletsk gymnasium, where he studied for four and a half years, was expelled (for non-payment of tuition fees) and returned to the village. Received home education. Already in childhood, B.'s extraordinary impressionability and perceptiveness manifested themselves, qualities that formed the basis of his artistic personality and gave rise to an image of the surrounding world hitherto unprecedented in Russian literature in terms of sharpness and brightness, as well as richness of shades. B. recalled: “ My vision was such that I saw all seven stars in the Pleiades, I could hear the whistle of a marmot a mile away in the evening field, I got drunk, smelling the smell of lily of the valley or an old book" B. made his debut as a poet in 1887. In 1891, the first book of poems was published in Orel. At the same time, the writer began to publish in metropolitan magazines, and his work attracted the attention of literary celebrities (critic N.K. Mikhailovsky, poet A.M. Zhemchuzhnikov), who helped B. publish poems in the magazine “Bulletin of Europe”. In 1896, Bunin published his translation of “The Song of Hiawatha” by G. Longfellow. With the publication of the collection “To the End of the World” (1897), “Under the Open Sky” (1898), “Poems and Stories” (1900), “Falling Leaves” (1901), Bunin gradually asserted his original place in the artistic life of Russia. more>>
Works
I. A. Bunin († 1953)
From youthful poems.
Motherland.
Source: Complete works of I. A. Bunin. Volume one. - Supplement to the magazine "Niva" for 1915 - Pg.: Publishing House of A. F. Marks, 1915. - P. 11.
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
Poor looking black huts...
So son, calm and impudent,
Ashamed of his mother -
Tired, timid and sad
Among his city friends,
Looks with a smile of compassion
To the one who wandered hundreds of miles
And for him, on the date of the date,
She saved her last penny.
____
1891
Analysis of the poem
From the very first lines of the poem, the reader feels the poet’s concern for his homeland, for the house where he was born. In the first quatrain, Bunin makes it clear that his homeland is wretched and too simple at first glance. Reading these lines, I imagined abandoned huts in late autumn from which smoke was pouring out. And although the field work is completed, people are gradually creating comfort at home from what they have. But they don’t have much - simplicity and “black huts”. The poem was written in the poet’s youth; Bunin was then only 21 years old. But already at this age, judging by the poem, Ivan Bunin felt his civic duty and could not remain indifferent to the state of affairs in Russia. It was during these years that famine swept across Russia. Russia, already “poor”, was starving. How can one not mock?
But no matter what this Motherland is, it remains the Motherland forever. Like a mother... And the poet, without sorrow, makes it clear that he is proud of such a mother who saves her last pennies “for the date.” And you, who mock her, continue to mock her. And “be ashamed” if that’s what you want...
Most of the epithets of the poem are painted in dark tones and carry a negative load.. It’s as if the poet lacks a “wretched” appearance and he gives the huts of his Motherland a black color.. Then it’s even “sadder”, the mother, the closest and most beloved person to each of us, appears in a humiliating manner in front of his “impudent” son.. What is this? What does Bunin want to say? Really, personifying the Motherland with his mother, the poet could not find a softer comparison. If you truly experience the words spoken by the poets, you become uneasy. I want to shout: “Where is your soul?! O son! Son of a mother, son of his Motherland.”
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
Poor looking black huts...
So son, calm and impudent,
Ashamed of his mother -
Tired, timid and sad
Among his city friends,
Looks with a smile of compassion
To the one who wandered hundreds of miles
And for him, on the date of the date,
She saved her last penny.
Analysis of the poem “Motherland” by Bunin
In the work of Ivan Alekseevich Bunin, the theme of the Motherland occupies a key place. Russian culture and history are the sources of his inspiration.
It has already become a tradition to see the influence of Nekrasov’s poetry in each such poem, but “To Motherland” was written so excitedly and aphoristically that it is still one of the peaks of I. Bunin’s work. By genre - patriotic lyrics, by size - iambic tetrameter with cross rhyme, 3 stanzas. Rhymes are open and closed. “They” and “you, Motherland” are the main ones characters this work. Here the reader sees patriotism not from the front side, not as a set of rattling phrases, but as complicity coming from the depths of the heart, empathy for all the troubles of Russia. Diary entry I. Bunin for this year contains a confession of his love, blood relationship with ancient history countries with the richness of the Russian language.
The Motherland is like a mother - a typical comparison for the world artistic culture, however, in I. Bunin this is not just an abstract image of a mother calling, for example, to heroic deeds, but the painfully sweet features of an ordinary provincial Russian old woman, humble and loving. She admires her “impudent son” who has left for the city; he seems so important, smart, and kind to her. She is glad that there are so many well-dressed friends around him. She is even a little ashamed that she is so old-fashioned and clumsy and stupid. Rejoicing at the meeting, she waits for the moment when, left alone, she can hand over the pennies she has saved to her son. The poet does not use strong epithets, just three words convey his indignation, but what an effect they produce: mocking, impudent, ashamed. Every reader immediately recalls in his heart a memory when he himself was the same as this “son”. There are no exclamations, only ellipsis in the first stanza, and a bitter appeal in the second line. This detailed image of an ungrateful son and his timid mother is a response to the social and political views of Russia of those years, the thoughtless demands for revolutionary changes.
The revolution of 1917 separated the writer I. Bunin from Russia. Forced to emigrate, in his further work he tried to preserve the lost spirit and features of the Russian past dear to his heart.
