The sad time of the eyes is the charm of the author. “... A sad time! Eyes charm ... "(excerpt from the novel" Eugene Onegin "). The wind carries the clouds

VII

Sad time! Oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.

Analysis of the poem by A. S. Pushkin "A dull time, eyes charm"

The golden time of the year is striking in its beauty and poetry. The period when nature brightly and solemnly says goodbye to summer, warmth, greenery, prepares for winter sleep. Yellow, red foliage adorns the trees, and crumbling falls like a motley carpet under your feet. The off-season has inspired artists, poets, composers, and playwrights for centuries.

Pushkin has always attracted autumn with its charm. He loved this time more than anyone else, about which he tirelessly wrote both in prose and in verse. In the poem “A dull time, eyes of charm”, Alexander Sergeevich talks about the seasons and comes to the conclusion that the end of October is ideal for him in all respects.

He does not like spring, sung by many poets, for being dirty and slushy. Cannot stand hot summers, with insects always buzzing. The lyrics are more to the soul "Russian cold". But the winter is cold and long. Although the hero loves sledding through the snow, skating. The weather does not always favor your favorite pastimes. And the narrator is bored and dreary to sit at home by the fireplace for a long time.

The famous lines were born in the second Boldin autumn in 1833. It is known that this period was the most productive for the poet, his creative upsurge. When the fingers themselves asked for the pen, and the pen for the paper. Preparation for sleep, the withering of nature - for Pushkin, the stage of renewal, new life. He writes that he is blooming again.

Already in the first lines the antithesis sounds. A striking contrast between two descriptions of the same phenomenon. On the one hand, the poet exclaims: "A sad time." On the other hand, he calls the weather outside the window the charm of the eyes. He writes about the withering of nature - a word with a negative connotation. But at the same time, he informs the reader about his love for this period. The farewell beauty of the forests dressed in crimson and gold, the devastated fields, beckons the author for a walk. In weather like this, it's impossible to stay indoors.

The lyrical hero is the narrator, behind whom the personality of Alexander Sergeevich himself is drawn. The attentive reader understands that the description is alive. Pushkin, what he sees, he depicts in poetic lines. Nature is spiritualized. Therefore, her image can be considered the second hero of the plot.

The author carefully, politely, very courteously, confidentially communicates with the reader. As if inviting to dialogue. Asks for opinions, apologizes for excessive "prosaism". Thus, the genre of address is used. So the reader better understands the author, his mood, feeling and the idea that the poet wanted to convey.

A measured, melodious, rhythmic reading is achieved with the help of the chosen poetic meter - iambic. The poem is divided into octaves, which are stanzas of eight lines.

Compositionally, the text looks unfinished. Alexander Sergeevich ends with the line: “Where can we go?”. Inviting the reader to think about this question for himself. A small element of natural-philosophical lyrics in the landscape description.
The lines are purposefully devoid of an accurate description of the landscape.

Pushkin, as a true painter in poetry, here acts as an impressionist. A moment is caught, which is about to be replaced by another. But the picture is slightly blurry, it conveys not so much details as emotions.

Thanks to the poem by A.S. Pushkin's "A dull time, eyes charm" we can see autumn through the eyes of a great poet. After reading the text leaves positive emotions, pleasant excitement.

The poem in octaves "Autumn" by A. S. Pushkin was written in the fall in 1833 during the poet's second visit to the village. Boldino, upon returning from the Urals.

Both in prose and in verse, A. S. Pushkin repeatedly wrote that autumn is his favorite time of the year, the time of his inspiration, creative upsurge and literary works.

It was not without reason that the poet was glad of autumn and considered it the time of his heyday: the second autumn of A. S. Pushkin on the Boldino estate, a month and a half long, turned out to be no less fruitful and rich in works than the first, epoch-making, Boldin autumn of 1830.

The most famous excerpt is “A sad time! Eyes of charm! ”, Which is the VII octave of the poem“ Autumn ”, belongs to the landscape lyrics of A. S. Pushkin. The lines of the passage are a complete picture, realistically accurately conveying the awakening of poetry in the soul of a poet inspired by his beloved sometimes.

The poetic size of the passage is iambic six-foot; the stanza of the poem is an octave.

Sad time! oh charm!

The work "Autumn", and in particular the excerpt, was not published during the author's lifetime, it was first published by V. A. Zhukovsky in the posthumous collection of works by A. S. Pushkin in 1841.

We bring to your attention the text of the poem in full:

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off

The last leaves from their naked branches;

The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.

The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,

But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry

In the departing fields with his hunt,

And they suffer winter from mad fun,

And the barking of dogs wakes the sleeping oak forests.

Now it's my time: I don't like spring;

The thaw is boring to me; stink, dirt - in the spring I'm sick;

The blood is fermenting; feelings, the mind is constrained by melancholy.

In the harsh winter I am more satisfied,

I love her snow; in the presence of the moon

As an easy sleigh run with a friend is fast and free,

When under the sable, warm and fresh,

She shakes your hand, glowing and trembling!

How fun, shod with sharp iron feet,

Glide on the mirror of stagnant, smooth rivers!

And the brilliant anxieties of the winter holidays?..

But you also need to know honor; half a year snow yes snow,

After all, this is finally the inhabitant of the lair,

Bear, get bored. You can't for a century

We ride in a sleigh with the young Armides

Or sour by the stoves behind double panes.

Oh, red summer! I would love you

If it weren't for the heat, and dust, and mosquitoes, and flies.

You, destroying all spiritual abilities,

you torment us; like fields, we suffer from drought;

Just how to get drunk, but refresh yourself -

There is no other thought in us, and it is a pity for the winter of the old woman,

And, seeing her off with pancakes and wine,

We make a wake for her with ice cream and ice.

The days of late autumn are usually scolded,

But she is dear to me, dear reader,

Silent beauty, shining humbly.

So unloved child in the native family

It draws me to itself. To tell you frankly

Of the annual times, I am glad only for her alone,

There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain,

I found something in her a wayward dream.

How to explain it? I like her,

Like a consumptive maiden

Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death

The poor thing bows without grumbling, without anger.

The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;

She does not hear the yawn of the grave abyss;

Still purple color plays on the face.

She is still alive today, not tomorrow.

Sad time! oh charm!

Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -

I love the magnificent nature of wilting,

Forests clad in crimson and gold,

In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,

And the heavens are covered with mist,

And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,

And distant gray winter threats.

And every autumn I bloom again;

The Russian cold is good for my health;

I again feel love for the habits of being:

Sleep flies in succession, hunger finds in succession;

Easily and joyfully plays in the heart of blood,

Desires boil - I'm happy again, young,

I am full of life again - this is my body

(Allow me to forgive unnecessary prosaism).

Lead me a horse; in the expanse of the open,

Waving his mane, he carries a rider,

And loudly under his shining hoof

The frozen valley rings and the ice cracks.

But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireplace

The fire burns again - then a bright light pours,

It smolders slowly - and I read before it

Or I feed long thoughts in my soul.

And I forget the world - and in sweet silence

I am sweetly lulled by my imagination,

And poetry awakens in me:

The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,

It trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,

To pour out at last a free manifestation -

And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,

Old acquaintances, fruits of my dreams.

And the thoughts in my head are worried in courage,

And light rhymes run towards them,

And fingers ask for a pen, pen for paper,

A minute - and the verses will flow freely.

So the ship slumbers motionless in motionless moisture,

But chu! - the sailors suddenly rush, crawl

Up, down - and the sails puffed out, the winds are full;

The mass has moved and cuts through the waves.

Floats. Where are we to swim? . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sad time! Oh charm!...
Alexander Pushkin

Sad time! Oh charm!






And distant gray winter threats.

autumn morning
Alexander Pushkin

There was a noise; field pipe
My solitude is announced
And with the image of a mistress draga
The last dream fell.
A shadow has already fallen from the sky.
The dawn has risen, the pale day is shining -
And all around me is a deaf desolation ...
She's gone... I was off the coast,
Where the darling went on a clear evening;
On the shore, on the green meadows
I did not find any visible traces,
Left by her beautiful foot.
Thoughtfully wandering in the wilderness of forests,
I spoke the name of the incomparable;
I called her - and a solitary voice
The empty valleys called her into the distance.
He came to the stream, attracted by dreams;
Its streams flowed slowly,
The unforgettable image did not tremble in them.
She's gone!.. Until the sweet spring
I said goodbye with bliss and soul.
Already in autumn with a cold hand
The heads of birches and lindens are bare,
She rustles in the deserted oak forests;
There, day and night, a yellow leaf is spinning,
There is a fog on the waves of the cooled,
And an instant wind whistle is heard.
Fields, hills, familiar oak forests!
Keepers of sacred silence!
Witnesses of my anguish, fun!
You are forgotten... until the sweet spring!

Already the sky was breathing in autumn ...
Alexander Pushkin
Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
With a sad noise she was naked,
Fog fell on the fields
Geese noisy caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.

Autumn
Alexander Pushkin

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.
The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
In the departing fields with his hunt,
And they suffer winter from mad fun,
And the barking of dogs wakes the sleeping oak forests.

Now it's my time: I don't like spring;
The thaw is boring to me; stink, dirt - I'm sick in the spring;
The blood is fermenting; feelings, the mind is constrained by melancholy.
In the harsh winter I am more satisfied,
I love her snows; in the presence of the moon
How easy the sleigh run with a friend is fast and free,
When under the sable, warm and fresh,
She shakes your hand, glowing and trembling!

How fun, shod with sharp iron feet,
Glide on the mirror of stagnant, smooth rivers!
And the brilliant anxieties of the winter holidays?..
But you also need to know honor; half a year snow yes snow,
After all, this is finally the inhabitant of the lair,
Bear, get bored. You can't for a century
We ride in a sleigh with the young Armides
Or sour by the stoves behind the double panes.

Oh, red summer! I would love you
If it weren't for the heat, and dust, and mosquitoes, and flies.
You, destroying all spiritual abilities,
you torment us; like fields, we suffer from drought;
Just how to get drunk, but refresh yourself -
There is no other thought in us, and it is a pity for the winter of the old woman,
And, having spent it with pancakes and wine,
We make a wake for her with ice cream and ice.








How to explain it? I like her,
Like a consumptive maiden
Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death
The poor thing bows without grumbling, without anger.
The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;
She does not hear the yawn of the grave abyss;
Plays on the face even crimson color.
She is still alive today, not tomorrow.

Sad time! oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.

And every autumn I bloom again;
The Russian cold is good for my health;
I again feel love for the habits of being:
Sleep flies in succession, hunger finds in succession;
Easily and joyfully plays in the heart of blood,
Desires boil - I'm happy again, young,
I am full of life again - this is my body
(Allow me to forgive unnecessary prosaism).

Lead me a horse; in the expanse of the open,
Waving his mane, he carries a rider,
And loudly under his shining hoof
The frozen valley rings and the ice cracks.
But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireplace
The fire is burning again - then a bright light is pouring,
It smolders slowly - and I read before it
Or I feed long thoughts in my soul.

And I forget the world - and in sweet silence
I am sweetly lulled by my imagination
And poetry awakens in me:
The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,
It trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,
Finally pour out free manifestation -
And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,
Old acquaintances, fruits of my dreams.

And the thoughts in my head are worried in courage,
And light rhymes run towards them,
And fingers ask for a pen, pen for paper,
A minute - and the verses will flow freely.
So the ship slumbers motionless in motionless moisture,
But chu! - the sailors suddenly rush, crawl
Up, down - and the sails puffed out, the winds are full;
The mass has moved and cuts through the waves.

The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she is dear to me, dear reader,
Silent beauty, shining humbly.
So unloved child in the native family
It draws me to itself. To tell you frankly
Of the annual times, I am glad only for her alone,
There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain,
I found something in her a wayward dream.

“That year the autumn weather…”

That year the autumn weather
Stood in the yard for a long time
Winter was waiting, nature was waiting.
It only snowed in January...
(Excerpt from the novel "Eugene Onegin, chapter 5, stanzas I and II)

"Golden autumn has come"

The golden autumn has arrived.
Nature is quivering, pale,
Like a victim, magnificently removed ...
Here is the north, catching up the clouds,
He breathed, howled - and here she is,
Winter is coming..
(Excerpt from the novel "Eugene Onegin", chapter 7, stanzas XXIX and XXX)

Municipal budgetary institution of additional education "Belgorod Palace of Children's Creativity", Belgorod

department of artistic and aesthetic education

The scenario of the autumn ball

"Autumn time, eyes charm!"

The script was developed by a methodologist

department of artistic and aesthetic education

Annenkova I. G.

Event held

in the children's association "Blue Bird"

Belgorod

2015

Target: to cultivate love for the beautiful, for nature, for the Motherland. Develop aesthetic taste, a sense of friendship, mutual assistance, the ability to have fun, have fun.

Tasks:

    develop students' creative abilities, expressive reading skills.

Scenario Participants: students of the children's association "Blue Bird" of the department of artistic and aesthetic education of the Belgorod Palace of Children's Creativity.

Decor: autumn flowers, garlands of yellow leaves, branches of autumn trees, bunches of mountain ash, vegetables and fruits on the table in a vase, an exhibition of drawings on autumn themes, colorful balls. On the stage there is a poster “A dull time, eyes of charm!”. At the door there is an invitation poster "Welcome to the Autumn Ball!".

Training:

1. Fanfiction, fanfiction.

2. Leaflets with numbers of participants.

3. Gifts from Cardin.

4. Apples, potatoes.

Homework:

    "Wreath of Leaves"

    Autumn composition and a story about it: what it is made of, what it symbolizes, purpose.

Questions, riddles, tasks for fantasies - lotto "Hope".

Puzzles:

1. Came without paints and without a brush and repainted all the leaves(Autumn).

2. He sees and does not hear, walks, wanders, roams, whistles(Wind).

3. The beast is afraid of my branches, they will not build nests in them, my beauty and power are in the branches, tell me quickly - who am I(Deer).

4. Sits - turns green, falls - turns yellow, lies - turns black.(Sheet).

5. Very friendly sisters, they wear red-haired berets. Autumn is brought to the forest in summer(chanterelles).

6. They ask and wait for me, but when I come, they hide(Rain).

7. There is a hat, but without a head, there is a leg, but without shoes(Mushroom).

Questions:

1. Who picks apples with his back?

2. Who has a cheek instead of a bag?

3. Birds fly south in autumn - everyone knows this. Are there "migratory" animals?

4. Which animal dries mushrooms?

5. The leaves of which trees turn red in autumn?

6. Where do frogs go for the winter?

7. Which animal has cubs in November?

8. Name the names of songs related to autumn and sing at least 4 lines.

9. How was September called in ancient times?

11. Old name for November?

12. Which forest has no leaves?

Event progress.

(Participants in the stage action are smartly dressed. Each of them has some sign of autumn on their clothes, a leaflet with a number is drawn. Music sounds - a calm, slightly sad melody of the “Autumn Waltz”. Gradually it subsides. The presenters come out.)

1 leader. Sad time! Oh charm!

Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me.

I love the magnificent nature of wilting,

Forests clad in crimson and gold…

This is how Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin once expressed his admiration for autumn nature. And I wanted to express my feelings in the words of the great poet.

2 Lead. And I would like to continue with the words of another famous Russian writer and poet Ivan Alekseevich Bunin:

The forest, like a painted tower,

Purple, gold, crimson,

Cheerful, colorful wall

It stands over a bright meadow.

Birches with yellow carving.

Shine in blue azure,

Like towers, Christmas trees darken,

And between the maples they turn blue.

Here and there in the foliage through

Clearances in the sky, that windows.

The forest smells of oak and pine,

During the summer it dried up from the sun,

And autumn is a quiet widow

He enters his motley tower.

3 Leader. Autumn ... The golden season, striking with the richness of flowers, fruits, a fantastic combination of colors: from bright, conspicuous, to blurry transparent halftones.

4 Leader. But it’s true, look around, peer: foliage sparkles with forged gold, multi-colored lanterns of asters and chrysanthemums flash brightly, rowan berries froze on the trees with drops of blood, and the bottomless autumn sky surprises with the abundance and brightness of the stars scattered over it.

1 leader. Sad October holds out its visiting card, where the lines of a brilliant Russian poet are written in colorless fog ink:

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off

The last leaves from their bare branches;

The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.

The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,

But the pond is already frozen

2 Lead. It's autumn outside now. We call it differently: cold, golden, generous, rainy, sad. But be that as it may, autumn is a wonderful time of the year, this is the time of harvesting, summing up the results of field work, this is the beginning of school, this is preparation for a long and cold winter. And regardless of whether it is cold or warm outside, the native land is always beautiful, attractive, charming! And folk wisdom says: "Autumn is sad, but life is fun." So let beautiful music sound on this October day, unrestrained cheerful laughter flow like a river, your legs do not know fatigue in dancing, let your fun never end!

All leading. We are opening our festive Autumn Ball!

3 Leader. The honorary right to cut the ribbon and open our Autumn Ball is granted to our beloved teacher of additional education Umanets Valentina Nikolaevna.

(The ribbon is cut, music sounds, everyone lines up.)

4 Leader. And now let's take an oath of the participants of the Autumn Ball.

All. We swear!

1 leader. Have fun from the heart!

All. We swear!

2 Lead. Dance until you drop!

All. We swear!

3 Leader. Laugh and joke!

All. We swear!

4 Leader. Participate and win in all competitions.

All. We swear!

1 leader. Share the joy of victory and prizes with friends.

All. We swear! We swear! We swear!

2 Lead. We talked for a long time, but completely forgot that you have to dance at the ball. Maestro, music!

(Music plays, everyone dances)

3 Leader. And now we start the competition program.

1 competition - literary. Now the lines of Russian poets will be heard, and you will name their authors. Everyone who guesses gets a phantom. Please keep them until the end of the ball.

    Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces.

The ice is fragile on the icy river,

Like 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.(N. Nekrasov)

    Is in the autumn of the original

A short but wonderful time -

The whole day stands as if crystal,

And radiant evenings ...(F. Tyutchev)

    Already the sky was breathing in autumn,

The sun shone less

The day was getting shorter

Forests mysterious canopy

With a sad noise she was naked ...(A. Pushkin)

    Autumn. All our poor garden is sprinkled,

Yellowed leaves fly in the wind;

Only in the distance they flaunt, there at the bottom of the valleys,

Brushes of bright red withering mountain ash.(L. Tolstoy)

4 Leader. And now the competition program is interrupted. We have music. Everyone is dancing.

(Music sounds. Everyone dances)

1 leader. And again our autumn ball continues. I have a box in my hands. It has fans. We are glad that you came to our ball. And we are looking for pupils among our guests who have a broad outlook, talented, smart. So, we invite you to participate in the phantom lotto "Hope". We hope that many will want to express themselves. And they will all be awarded small candy wrappers.

(The guys get forfeits with tasks, questions, riddles. Those who guessed get a forfeit,

2 Lead. And now, I think, there should be a musical pause, because what is the Autumn Ball without dancing.

(Everyone is dancing)

2 Lead. (Turns to other presenters) Please tell me if you like coziness, warmth, comfort. Are you comfortable at home?

(Leaders answer)

So our guests tried to make our holiday cozy. To do this, they made a composition of autumn material. They will not only show it, but also tell you what it is called and what it consists of.

(Team representatives defend their composition. With the help of a competent designer - teacher - the best composition is determined. A fant is awarded).

3 Leader. Dear guests, please listen to a short announcement. In parallel with our competitive program, there is a competition for the title of King and Queen of the Autumn Ball, which can become pupils of our theater studio. Each of them has leaflets with numbers. Each of those present can come up to the stage and write down the number of the person they consider to be a contender for this title. And now we invite everyone to dance! Maestro, music!

1 leader. It's time to take a break from dancing. For this we have a game. All of you probably love apples. I hope our members do too.

( The game "Who will eat apples faster." Apples are tied on a rope and the task of the participants is to eat an apple without hands.)

2 Lead. Everyone knows how tasty and healthy potatoes are. Very often we all have to both plant it and clean it. I suggest that the next participant in the game harvest. The game is called "Pick Potatoes". It is carried out as follows: a lot of potatoes are scattered on the floor, and the blindfolded participants in the game must quickly harvest in one minute. The winner is the one who collects the most potatoes in a bucket.

(The game "Collect Potatoes" is being played)

3 Leader. We remind you that the competition for the title of King and Queen continues. And now a musical break.

(music plays)

4 Leader. Hurry up to make your choice of King and Queen. Since the competition program is coming to an end.

1 leader. And now the last competition of our ball. Two participants are invited. Competition "Wreath of leaves". For the best work - a prize.

(competition is over and the winner is announced)

2 Lead. It is announced who became the King and Queen of the ball.

(For the winners

wear wreaths of leaves)

2 Lead. The floor is given to the Queen of the ball.

(The queen determines the participants in the games,

contests with the largest number of candy wrappers.

All of them are awarded for active participation).

1 leader. They say that autumn is sadness, continuous rains, cloudy weather ... Do not believe it, friends! Autumn is beautiful and attractive in its own way. It brings generosity to the soul, warmth to the heart from human communication, brings unique beauty into our lives!

2 Lead. Autumn has fully come into its own today, and we will celebrate its arrival. We thank this autumn for bringing us all to the autumn ball. Ahead of winter, spring, summer ... And then autumn again. How many more will be in our lives! We hope that the golden lights of the Autumn Ball will be lit for all of us more than once. See you soon!

(slow music playing)

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.
The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
In the departing fields with his hunt,
And they suffer winter from mad fun,
And the barking of dogs wakes the sleeping oak forests.

II

Now it's my time: I don't like spring;
The thaw is boring to me; stink, dirt - in the spring I'm sick;
The blood is fermenting; feelings, the mind is constrained by melancholy.
In the harsh winter I am more satisfied,
I love her snow; in the presence of the moon
As an easy sleigh run with a friend is fast and free,
When under the sable, warm and fresh,
She shakes your hand, glowing and trembling!

III

How fun, shod with sharp iron feet,
Glide on the mirror of stagnant, smooth rivers!
And the brilliant anxieties of the winter holidays?..
But you also need to know honor; half a year snow yes snow,
After all, this is finally the inhabitant of the lair,
Bear, get bored. You can't for a century
We ride in a sleigh with the young Armides
Or sour by the stoves behind double panes.

IV

Oh, red summer! I would love you
If it weren't for the heat, and dust, and mosquitoes, and flies.
You, destroying all spiritual abilities,
you torment us; like fields, we suffer from drought;
Just how to get drunk, but refresh yourself -
There is no other thought in us, and it is a pity for the winter of the old woman,
And, seeing her off with pancakes and wine,
We make a wake for her with ice cream and ice.

V

The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she is dear to me, dear reader,
Silent beauty, shining humbly.
So unloved child in the native family
It draws me to itself. To tell you frankly
Of the annual times, I am glad only for her alone,
There is a lot of good in it; lover is not vain,
I found something in her a wayward dream.

VI

How to explain it? I like her,
Like a consumptive maiden
Sometimes I like it. Condemned to death
The poor thing bows without grumbling, without anger.
The smile on the lips of the faded is visible;
She does not hear the yawn of the grave abyss;
Still purple color plays on the face.
She is still alive today, not tomorrow.

VII

Sad time! oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.

VIII

And every autumn I bloom again;
The Russian cold is good for my health;
I again feel love for the habits of being:
Sleep flies in succession, hunger finds in succession;
Easily and joyfully plays in the heart of blood,
Desires boil - I'm happy again, young,
I am full of life again - this is my body
(Allow me to forgive unnecessary prosaism).

IX

Lead me a horse; in the expanse of the open,
Waving his mane, he carries a rider,
And loudly under his shining hoof
The frozen valley rings and the ice cracks.
But the short day goes out, and in the forgotten fireplace
The fire burns again - then a bright light pours,
It smolders slowly - and I read before it
Or I feed long thoughts in my soul.

X

And I forget the world - and in sweet silence
I am sweetly lulled by my imagination,
And poetry awakens in me:
The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,
It trembles and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream,
To pour out at last a free manifestation -
And then an invisible swarm of guests comes to me,
Old acquaintances, fruits of my dreams.

XI

And the thoughts in my head are worried in courage,
And light rhymes run towards them,
And fingers ask for a pen, pen for paper,
A minute - and the verses will flow freely.
So the ship slumbers motionless in motionless moisture,
But chu! - the sailors suddenly rush, crawl
Up, down - and the sails puffed out, the winds are full;
The mass has moved and cuts through the waves.

XII

Floats. Where are we to sail?
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