Nikolai Nekrasov "Railway. "Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous ... "(an excerpt from the poem "Railway") Glorious autumn healthy vigorous air tired forces

A little man with a fingernail (an excerpt from the poem "Peasant Children") Once, in the cold winter season, I came out of the forest; there was severe frost. I look, a horse is slowly rising up the mountain, carrying a cart of brushwood. And, marching importantly, in serenity, The horse is led by the bridle by a peasant

“It shines merrily ...” (an excerpt from the poem “Winter Night in the Village”) The Month merrily shines over the village; White snow sparkles with a blue light. Month rays of God doused temple; The cross under the clouds, Like a candle, burns. Empty, lonely Sleepy village; Blizzards deep Izba skidded. Silence

The third road Way of Tom the sleepwalker is flying away from the world of reality. Love, madness are just separating parts of that multi-stage rocket, with the help of which he breaks the bonds of earthly gravity, breaks away from misfortunes and worries. The volume in the ballad is the leader of the violent army

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;

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

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

Analysis of the poem "Glorious Autumn" by Nekrasov

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

The poet describes the landscape that opens before his eyes from the window of the car. The rapidly sweeping picture of the autumn forest delights him. The lyrical hero regrets that he is watching her from the side and cannot inhale the “vigorous air” and “sleep” on the carpet of fallen leaves.

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

The invasion of railway transport can be considered blasphemy in relation to virgin nature, in which "there is no ugliness." Nekrasov gradually leads the reader to the idea that the construction of the railway violated the fragile balance of nature. Human suffering and grief have rudely invaded the beautiful and pure world.

Remaining an ardent patriot of his land, the poet concludes: “I recognize my dear Russia everywhere.” For Nekrasov, it was very important to emphasize national identity. He could not abstractly admire nature as a whole, necessarily pointing to its connection with the long-suffering Russian people. It is the surrounding beauty and harmony that leads the author to deep reflections on the fate of those people who inhabit this land. He is especially indignant at the sharp contradiction between perfect nature and the plight of the Russian peasantry.

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

Glorious autumn

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces;

The ice is fragile on the icy river

As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,

You can sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not faded yet,

Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,

Clear, quiet days...

There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi

And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight,

Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...

I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,

I think my mind...

N. Nekrasov

gold autumn

Autumn. Fairy tale,

All open for review.

clearings of forest roads,

Looking into the lakes

Like in an art exhibition:

Halls, halls, halls, halls

Elm, ash, aspen

Unprecedented in gilding.

Linden hoop gold -

Like a crown on a newlywed.

Birch face - under the veil

Wedding and transparent.

buried earth

Under foliage in ditches, pits.

In the yellow maples of the wing,

As if in gilded frames.

Where are the trees in September

At dawn they stand in pairs,

And sunset on their bark

Leaves an amber trail.

Where you can not step into the ravine,

So that everyone does not know:

So raging that not a step

A tree leaf underfoot.

Where it sounds at the end of the alleys

Echoes at the steep slope

And dawn cherry glue

Freezes in the form of a clot.

Autumn. ancient corner

Old books, clothes, weapons,

Where is the treasure catalog

Flips through the cold.

B. Pasternak

Plums fall in the garden

A noble treat for wasps...

Yellow leaf bathed in the pond

And welcomes early autumn.

He pretended to be a ship

The wind of wandering shook him.

So we'll follow him

To piers unknown in life.

And we already know by heart:

In a year there will be a new summer.

Why the universal sadness

In every line in the poetry of poets?

Is it because the traces on the dew

Will the showers wash away and the winters get cold?

Is it because the moments are all

Fleeting and unique?

L. Kuznetsova

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

Autumn. Silence in the dacha village,

And desert-voiced on earth.

Gossamer in transparent air

Cold as a crack in glass.

Through the sandy pink pines

The roof is bluish with a cockerel;

In a light haze, a velvet sun -

Like a peach touched with fluff.

At sunset, magnificent, but not sharp,

The clouds are waiting for something, frozen;

Holding hands, they shine

The last two, the most golden ones;

Both turn their faces to the sun

Both fade from one end;

The older one carries the feather of the firebird,

The youngest is a fluff of a fire-chick.

N. Matveeva

Accommodation

October!.. The trees are waiting for snow,

The floods of the rivers have subsided locked up ...

I chose a stack for myself for the night

Where the night found me on the way.

Like fireflies in a dormant swamp,

The stars trembled in the black sky;

The earth, chilled in its night flight,

In a dream, she cuddled up to me tenderly.

And I, covering my feet with dry straw

And putting a gun under his head,

He warmed himself and soon a little

He warmed a huge - her ...

The dawn flowed into the breaks of lead clouds,

For a whole day, for many, many years

The earth gave me the sun again,

From the dark night

Into the dawn!