Yesenin unspeakable blue gentle analysis. Analysis of Yesenin's poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender .... Analysis of Yesenin's poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender ..."

THE GOLDEN GROVE DID AGAIN...

The golden grove dissuaded
Birch, cheerful language,
And the cranes, sadly flying,
No more regrets for anyone.

Whom to pity? After all, every wanderer in the world -
Pass, enter and leave the house again.
Hemp dreams about all the departed
With a wide moon over the blue pond.

I stand alone among the naked plain,
And the cranes are carried by the wind into the distance,
I'm full of thoughts about a cheerful youth,
But I don't regret anything in the past.

I do not regret the years wasted in vain,
Do not feel sorry for the soul of a lilac flower.
In the garden, a fire of red rowan is burning,
But he cannot warm anyone.

Rowan brushes will not burn,
Grass will not disappear from yellowness,
Like a tree sheds its leaves,
So I drop sad words.

And if time, sweeping by the wind,
Rake them all into one unnecessary lump ...
Say so ... that the grove is golden
She answered in a sweet way.

I DO NOT REGRET, DO NOT CALL, DO NOT CRY

* * *
I do not regret, do not call, do not cry,
Everything will pass like smoke from white apple trees.
Withering gold embraced,
I won't be young anymore.

Now you won't fight so much
Cold touched heart
And the country of birch chintz
Not tempted to wander around barefoot.

Wandering spirit! you are less and less
You stir the flame of your mouth
Oh my lost freshness
A riot of eyes and a flood of feelings!

Now I have become more stingy in desires,
My life, or did you dream of me?
Like I'm a spring echoing early
Ride on a pink horse.

All of us, all of us in this world are perishable,
Quietly pouring copper from maple leaves ...
May you be blessed forever
That came to flourish and die.

LIFE IS A DECEIT WITH enchanting longing

Life is a deception with enchanting longing,
That's why she's so strong
That with his rough hand
Fatal writes letters.

I always, when I close my eyes,
I say: "Just disturb the heart,
Life is a lie, but sometimes it
Decorates with joy lies.

Turn your face to the gray sky
By the moon, wondering about fate,
Calm down, mortal, and do not demand
The truth that you don't need.

Good in a bird cherry blizzard
To think that this life is a path.
Let light friends deceive
Let light friends change.

Let them caress me with a gentle word,
Let the evil tongue be sharper than a razor.
I live for a long time ready for anything,
To everything ruthlessly accustomed.

These heights chill my soul,
There is no heat from star fire.
Those whom I loved have abandoned
What I lived - forgot about me.

But still, oppressed and persecuted,
I, looking at the dawn with a smile,
On earth, close and beloved to me,
Thank you for everything in this life.

WHISHING WIND, SILVER WIND...

The wind whistles, the silver wind
In the silky rustle of snow noise.
For the first time I noticed in myself -
So I have never thought.

Let there be rotten dampness on the windows,
I am not sorry and I am not sad.
I still love this life
I fell in love with it like it was in the beginning.

Will a woman look with a quiet smile -
I'm already excited. What shoulders!
A troika will ride on an expensive unsteady -
I'm already in it and jumping far.

Oh, my happiness and all good luck!
Human happiness is loved by the earth.
The one who at least once on earth will cry, -
So luck has run its course.

You need to live easier, you need to live easier,
All accepting what is in the world.
That's why, stunned, over the grove
The wind whistles, the silver wind.

JOY IS GIVEN TO THE RUDE...

Joy is given to the rude,
Gentle is given sadness.
I need nothing,
I don't feel sorry for anyone.

I feel sorry for myself a little
Pity the homeless dogs
This straight road
She took me to a tavern.
………………………..
1923

GOOD BYE, MY FRIEND...

Goodbye my friend, goodbye.
My dear, you are in my chest.
Destined parting
Promises to meet in the future.

Goodbye, my friend, without a hand, without a word,
Do not be sad and do not sadness of the eyebrows, -
In this life, dying is not new,
But to live, of course, is not newer.

UNSAFE, BLUE, GENTLE...

Inexpressible, blue, tender...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,
And my soul is a boundless field -
Breathes the scent of honey and roses.

I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But what has passed, I do not curse.
Like a trio of frenzied horses
Rolled all over the country.

Sprayed around. Have accumulated.
And disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear the leaf falling.

Is it a bell? Far echo?
Everyone calmly sucks in the chest.
Stop, soul, we drove with you
Through a stormy path.

Let's take a look at everything we've seen
What happened, what happened in the country,
And forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's fault and ours.

I accept what was and wasn't.
Only a pity in the thirtieth year -
I demanded too little in my youth,
Forgetting in the tavern haze.

But the oak is young, not getting sick,
It bends just like grass in a field ...
Oh you, youth, violent youth,
Golden daredevil!

WE ARE LEAVING A LITTLE NOW...

We are now leaving little by little
In the country where peace and grace.
Maybe soon I will be on my way
To collect mortal belongings.

Lovely birch thickets!
You earth! And you, plains sands!
Before this host of departing
I can't hide my anguish.

I loved too much in this world
Everything that envelops the soul in flesh.
Peace to the aspens, which, spreading its branches,
Look into the pink water!

I thought a lot of thoughts in silence,
I composed many songs about myself,
And on this gloomy earth
Happy that I breathed and lived.

Happy that I kissed women
Crumpled flowers, rolled on the grass
And the beast, like our smaller brothers,
Never hit on the head.

I know that thickets do not bloom there,
Rye does not ring with a swan's neck.
That is why before the host of the departing
I always get trembling.

I know that in that country there will be no
These fields, golden in the mist...
That's why people are dear to me
that live with me on earth.

EVENING BLUE, EVENING MOON ...

Blue evening, moonlit evening
I used to be handsome and young.

Unstoppable, unique
Everything flew by. away.. past...

The heart has cooled, and the eyes have faded ...
Blue happiness! Lunar nights!

Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin(September 21 (October 3), 1895, Konstantinovo, Kuzminskaya volost, Ryazan district, Ryazan province, Russian Empire - December 28, 1925, Leningrad, USSR) - Russian poet, representative of peasant poetry and lyrics, and in a later period of creativity - imagism.

Yesenin was born into a peasant family. From 1904 to 1912 he studied at the Konstantinovsky Zemstvo School and at the Spas-Klepikovskaya School. The Russian village, the nature of central Russia, oral folk art, and most importantly, Russian classical literature had a strong influence on the formation of the young poet, directed his natural talent.

The first publication of Yesenin's works took place in 1914 in the capital's magazines, and the poem "Birch" became the beginning of a successful debut.

Yesenin's most significant works, which brought him fame as one of the best poets, were created in the 1920s.

Among the best poems of his last years are a Letter to a woman, Persian motifs, small poems, Russia is leaving, Russia is homeless, Return to the Motherland, Letter to mother (Are you still alive, my old woman? ..), We are now leaving little by little to that country where there is silence and grace ... And, finally, the poem was dissuaded by a golden grove, which combines a truly folk song element, and the skill of a mature, experienced poet, and a poignant, pure simplicity, for which he was so loved by people who are far from "fine literature ".

RESOURCES

Official site of the museum-reserve S.A. Yesenin

A site dedicated to the work of S.A. Yesenin. Complete Academic Works of S.A. Yesenin. All-Russian Literary Prize named after Sergei Yesenin. Yesenin Museums of Russia.

On the site:
Creation
Alphabetical list of works
Photo gallery
Video
Music library
Autobiographies
Memories
Articles

The poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender", written in 1925, refers to the post-revolutionary work of the poet. This work, in my opinion, is one of his most striking lyrical works of that time. In it, Yesenin is trying to comprehend the events taking place around him. Political problems are given here in a lyrical tone. The poet does not delve into events, he simply explains his personal perception, his emotional attitude towards them:
Inexpressible, blue, tender...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,
And my soul is a boundless field -
Breathes the scent of honey and roses.
So quietly and lyrically the poet begins his confession to the reader. The lines carry a light feeling of silence and tranquility. The first words sound like a melodious melody, depicting the image of the native land. However, it should be noted that in general the poem is colored with sadness. Vital storms and thunderstorms carried away young briskness and confident boldness:
I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But what has passed, I do not curse.
These lines reflect the ideological basis of the poem. The leading motive inherent in the work is the acceptance of life. The poet does not curse the contradictions that the 1917 revolution gave rise to. It is no coincidence that Yesenin will say in his autobiography that he accepted the revolution, but in a special way, with a peasant bias. The revolutionary events are seen by him as a "frantic" troika of horses, swept "throughout the whole country." This metaphor reminded me of Gogol's troika rushing nowhere. But the two images have an important difference. For Gogol, the troika symbolizes the movement of Russia, while Yesenin's image embodies the recent revolutionary events that took place in the seventeenth year:
Sprayed around. Have accumulated.
And disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear the leaf falling.
The silence of the opening lines of the poem is abruptly replaced by the noise of the "frantic troika". But after a couple of lines, solemn silence reigns in the work. The poet points us to the elemental diabolical nature of the revolution. The "devil's whistle" is contrasted in the next line with the "forest abode", the temple of nature and harmony. Here, with a short stroke, the mythopoetic artistic consciousness, characteristic of Yesenin in the pre-revolutionary period of creativity, is manifested.
Everything experienced by the poet and his country is in the past. He unites his fate with the fate of Russia, the personal with the public. He reflects on recent events, but does not curse the offenders. His soul is ready to accept the world as it was and is:
Let's take a look at everything we've seen
What happened, what happened in the country,
And forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's fault and ours.
The penultimate stanza contains the main idea of ​​the poem. The poet stands on the position of acceptance of reality. However, these lines also reveal the internal contradiction that oppresses him. Yesenin's gaze turns to the past. Only now he begins to realize that his youth has been lost. There, young and free, he could "demand" more from life. In the present, the poet can only accept her and forgive:
I accept what was and wasn't.
Only sorry for the thirtieth year
I demanded too little in my youth,
Forgetting in the tavern haze.
The last lines of the poem are, in my opinion, the most expressive. The poet put his whole soul into them. He draws an interesting parallel between a young oak tree and himself:
But the oak is young, not getting sick,
It bends just like grass in a field ...
With this metaphorical comparison, the poet draws his fate. Life broke him, "bent", like a young tree. The image of a young oak symbolizes the power of a young talented poet ruined by the revolution and subsequent events.

"Unspeakable, blue, tender..." Sergei Yesenin

Inexpressible, blue, tender...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,
And my soul is a boundless field -
Breathes the scent of honey and roses.

I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But what has passed, I do not curse.
Like a trio of frenzied horses
Rolled all over the country.

Sprayed around. Have accumulated.
And disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear the leaf falling.

Is it a bell? Far echo?
Everyone calmly sucks in the chest.
Stop, soul, we drove with you
Through a stormy path.

Let's take a look at everything we've seen
What happened, what happened in the country,
And forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's fault and ours.

I accept what was and wasn't.
Only a pity in the thirtieth year -
I demanded too little in my youth,
Forgetting in the tavern haze.

But the oak is young, not getting sick,
It bends just like grass in a field ...
Oh you, youth, violent youth,
Golden daredevil!

Analysis of Yesenin's poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender ..."

In the last year of his life, Yesenin wrote the poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender ...", in which he summed up the years left behind. A lyrical hero, wise by experience, appears before readers. He is calm, peaceful. His soul, having survived storms and thunderstorms, passed through adversity, is currently comparable to a boundless field, breathing the smell of honey and roses. Yesenin himself at the time of writing the analyzed text was only thirty years old. However, it seems that the poem was created by an older person. In the second stanza, the hero begins to reminisce. Even from their fragments it becomes clear how stormy his youth was. At the same time, he does not regret the past. All the same, nothing can be returned, nothing can be corrected either. In the words of the hero there is no strong condemnation of his own actions. Young is green. Who hasn't made mistakes when they were young?

“Unspeakable, blue, gentle…” is not just a summing up, but also a conversation with one's own soul. Throughout the text, the lyrical hero periodically refers to her. She appears as someone who really exists, like a best friend, a faithful companion. The joint road was long and stormy, but it was time to calm down. You need to stop, catch your breath, figure out what happened. The focus of the hero is his personal life, and the changes that have taken place in the country. The theme of the homeland does not arise by chance. Firstly, she has always played an important role in Yesenin's work. Secondly, at the beginning of the 20th century, Russia experienced many upheavals - wars, revolutions, the end of the monarchy and the coming to power of the Bolsheviks. Naturally, these changes could not but affect the life of the people. And it is quite logical that the lyrical hero of the poem wants to understand them.

Regret about the aimlessly spent youth arises only towards the end of the analyzed work. Then the tavern theme pops up, often found in Yesenin's late lyrics. Only by the age of thirty did the hero realize that the time he had spent on drinking establishments was wasted. However, it turns out later that the expressed regret is only a momentary weakness. In the last quatrain, there is a twist again. The hero is trying to justify himself, to determine a new vector of development. Yes, youth is left behind, but old age has not yet come. It turns out that the hero is now experiencing the best time - he has the experience gained in his youth, and has the strength to continue to live a full life, not repeating old mistakes.

reading view

Inexpressible, blue, tender...

My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,

And my soul is a boundless field -

Breathes the scent of honey and roses.

I calmed down. The years have taken their toll

But what has passed, I do not curse.

Like a trio of frenzied horses

Rolled all over the country.

Sprayed around. Have accumulated.

And disappeared under the devil's whistle.

And now here in the forest monastery

You can even hear the leaf falling.

Is it a bell? Far echo?

Everyone calmly sucks in the chest.

Stop, soul, we drove with you

Through a stormy path.

Let's take a look at everything we've seen

What happened, what happened in the country,

And forgive where we were bitterly offended

Through someone else's fault and ours.

I accept what was and wasn't.

Only a pity in the thirtieth year -

I demanded too little in my youth,

Forgetting in the tavern haze.

But the oak is young, not getting sick,

It bends just like grass in a field ...

Oh you, youth, violent youth,

Golden daredevil!

Analysis of a poem by Sergei Yesenin Unspeakable, blue, tender

Yesenin wrote the poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender ..." in the last year of his life. A lyrical hero, wise by experience, appeared before us. His soul, having survived storms and thunderstorms, passed through adversity, is currently comparable to a boundless field, breathing the smell of honey and roses. Yesenin at the time of writing the verse was only thirty years old. However, the poem seems to have been written by a much older man. In the second stanza, the hero begins to share memories. It becomes clear how stormy his youth was. At the same time, he does not regret the past. Nothing can be fixed. In the words of the hero there is no strong condemnation of his own actions. Young is green.

“Unspeakable, blue, tender…” a conversation with your own soul. The lyrical hero periodically refers to her. She appears as the best friend, faithful companion. The focus of the hero is his personal life, and the changes that have taken place in the country. The theme of the homeland does not arise by chance. She has always played an important role in Yesenin's work. At the beginning of the 20th century, Russia experienced many upheavals - wars, revolutions, the end of the monarchy and the coming to power of the Bolsheviks. These changes could not but affect the life of the people. And it is quite logical that the lyrical hero of the poem wants to understand them.

Regret about the aimlessly spent youth arises only towards the end of the analyzed work. Then the tavern theme pops up, often found in Yesenin's late lyrics. By the age of thirty, the poet realized that the time spent on drinking establishments was wasted. However, expressed regret is a momentary weakness. In the last quatrain, there is a twist again. The hero tries to justify himself. Yes, youth is left behind, but old age has not yet come. The hero is now experiencing the best time - there is experience gained in his youth, and there is strength to continue living without repeating old mistakes.