Here is the main entrance. According to solemn days
Obsessed with Kholaopian ailment
Whole city with some fright
Drives up to the cherished doors;
Recovering your name and title,
Guests go home,
So deeply satisfied with yourself
What you think - in the vision!

N.A.Nekrasov in the poem "Reflections at the Paradinary Pearler" described well-preserved house No. 37/39 for the foundry prospectus.

The house was built in 1841-1844 on the project of the architect G. Boss in Flasclassic style. The main facade of the 2-storey building in the center is highlighted with 4-graded columns with caryatids installed on them supporting the balcony.

In 1848, the house was purchased by the chief of gendarmes Graft A.F. Eorlov.

In 1857, the Count Orlov rested the house by the Department of Foots, where Minister of State Protection M.N. Muravyev settled.

The main entrance of the House of Orlova is located opposite the windows of the house in which Nekrasov lived - Foundry Avenue, house number 36.

The scene, which swammed at the door of the House of the Tsarist Minister, inspired the poet the story of the poem "Reflections in the front entrance."

And on ordinary days this magnificent entrance
Mustle faces are besieged:
Spotlights, sector locations,
And an old old man and a widow.
From him and to him and know in the morning
All couriers with papers jump.
Returning, other sings "Trom-Tram",
And other petitioners cry.

Here is the main entrance. According to solemn days
Obsessed with Kholaopian ailment
Whole city with some fright
Drives up to the cherished doors;
Recovering your name and title,
Guests go home,
So deeply satisfied with yourself
What you think - in the vision!
And on ordinary days this magnificent entrance
Mustle faces are besieged:
Spotlights, sector locations,
And an old old man and a widow.
From him and to him and know in the morning
All couriers with papers jump.
Returning, other sings "Trom-Tram",
And other petitioners cry.
Since I saw, men came here,
Rustic Russian people
Prayed to the church and became away,
Twinking brown heads to the chest;
The doorman appeared. "Suppose," say
With expressing hopes and flour.
He looked around: Nekrasivs in the opinion!
Tanned faces and hands
Armenian lean on shoulders,
On the cottomke on the backs of bent,
Cross on the neck and blood on the legs,
In homemade lapties
(Know, Brere Dolgonko they
From some distant provinces).
Someone shouted to the Swiss: "Goney!
Our does not like torn in black! "
And slammed the door. Standing
Unleashed pilgrims,
But the doorman did not let me, scarce lepta without taking
And they went, the sun palima,
Repeating: "Sidi His God!"
Breeding hopeless hands
And, as long as I could see them,
With uncovered walked heads ...
And the owner of luxury chambers
I was still deeply broken ...
You, considering life to envy
Using flattery shamelessly
Fiberism, gluttony, game,
Awake! There is also a pleasure:
Touch them! In you, their salvation!
But happy deaf to good ...
The thunders of heaven are not afraid
And the earth you hold in your hands,
And these people are missing
Inseparable grief in the hearts.
What do you think that you grike
What do you like this poor people?
Eternal holiday fast running
Life wake up to you.
And what? Clutch pads
You are a folk blessing;
Do you live with a glov

And with glory die!
Serene Arcade idylly
Stayed old days.
Under the captivating sky of Sicily,
In the fragile wood shadow
Contemplating as the sun purple
Immersed in the sea azure,
Stripes his gold, -
Ubayukany affectionate singing
Mediterranean wave - as a child
You will perish, surrounded by care
Dear and beloved family
(Waiting for your death with impatience);
Bring your remains to us,
To honor the funeral trianu,
And you will go to the grave ... Hero,
Secretly damned depreciation
Aligned with loud prayer! ..

However, we are such a person
Worry for small people?
Do we not get angry on them? -
Safer ... more fun
Something to make a consolation ...
It does not matter that he will suffer a man:
So leading us providence
Indicated ... Yes, he is used!
For the stamining, in Kharchevna, the poor
Everyone will eat poor people to the ruble
And go, beats the road,
And groaned ... Native Earth!
Call me such an abode
I did not see this corner,
Where would your sower and keeper
Where would a Russian man moan?
He moans in the fields, on the roads,
He moans in prisons, for the rich,
In mines, on the iron chain;
He moans under OVIN, under a stack,
Under the cart, spending the night in the steppe;
Moaning in his own poor Domishka,
The Light of God's Sun is not happy;
Moans in every deaf town,
At the entrance of ships and chambers.
Out to the Volga: whose moan is heard
Above the Great Russian River?
This moan has a song called -
THAT BURLAKI go beching! ..
Volga! Volga! .. Spring multi-water
You do not fill the fields,
As a great sorrow of folk
Our land overflowed -
Where are the people, there and moan ... Eh, hearty!
What does your moan mean endless?
You wake up, filled with forces,
Il, fate obeying the law
Everything that you could have already committed, -
Created a song like a moan,
And spiritually forever soil? ..

Nikolai Nekrasov, 1858

Here is the main entrance. According to solemn days, obsessed with the Kholaopian ailment, the whole city with some fright approaches the cherished doors; After writing your name and title, guests go home, so deeply satisfied with themselves, that you will think about - in the vision! And on ordinary days, this magnificent entrance is precipitated by the wise faces: search engines, seizors of places, and an old old man, and a widow. From him and to him, even in the morning, all couriers with papers jump. Returning, other sings "Trom-Tram", and other petitioners cry. Since I saw, the men came here, rustic Russian people, prayed to the church and became away, the busting of the brown heads to the chest; The doorman appeared. "Advanced," - they say with expressing hope and flour. He looked around: Nekrasivs in the opinion! Tanned faces and hands, Armenian lean on shoulders. On the Kotomka on the backs of the bent, the cross on the neck and the blood on the legs, in the homemade lapties of the ardent (know, the Brefs are Dolgonko they are from some distant provinces). Someone shouted to the Swiss: "Goni! Our does not like torn in black!" And slammed the door. Having unleashed the wives of Pilgrims, but the doorman did not let the scarlet lepta, without taking, and they went, the sun palima, repeating: "The judgment of His God!", Running hopeless hands, and, as long as I could see them, they could have walked with heads .. . And the owner of luxury chambers has yet been deeply embraced ... You, who considers life to be jealous to the use of lasty shamelessly, fiberism, increasing, game, awaken! There is also a pleasure: torment them! In you, their salvation! But the happy blindness to good ... The thunder is not afraid of the thunder, and the earth you are holding in your hands, and these people carry unlucky grief in the hearts. What do you need this thorough screaming that you have this poor people? Eternal holiday quickly running life does not give you. And what? Locks for fun you have a folk blessing; Without it, you will live with Gleva and you will die with Glory! Serendors of Arcade idyll quarreled old days. Under the captivating sky of Sicily, in the fragrant tree shadow, contemplating, like the sun magenta immersed in the sea of \u200b\u200bazure, the stripes of his gold, - by the gentle singing of the Mediterranean wave, - as a child you will perceive, surrounded by the care of the dear and beloved family (awaiting your death with impatience) ; You will bring your remains to us, to honor the funeral triysone, and you will go into the grave ... Hero, secretly damned schisming, aronsed with a handsome prayer! .. However, we are worried about such a person for small people? Do we not get angry on them? - Save ... more fun in something to make a consumer. .. It does not matter that he will bearing a man: so the leading provity pointed us ... Yes, he is used! For the stamining, in Kharchevna, the poor people eat the poor to the ruble and go, beating the road, and groaned ... Native Earth! I call me such a monastery, I did not see such angle, where would your sower and keeper, where would the Russian man moan? He moans in the fields, on the roads, he moans to prisons, for the rudders, in the mines, on the iron chain; He moans under OVIN, under a stack, under the cart, spending the night in the steppe; Moans in his own poor house, the Light of God's Sun is not happy; Moans in every deaf town, at the entrance of ships and chambers. Out to the Volga: Whose moan is heard over the Grand Russian River? This moan has a song with a song - then the burlates go beching! .. Volga! Volga! .. In the spring multi-way you do not pour out the fields, our land overwhelmed by the mournful sorrow, - where the people, there and moan ... Eh, hearty! What does your moan mean endless? You wake up, filled with forces, Ile, fate obeying the law, everything that you could have already committed, - created a song, like a moan, and spiritually soil so much? .. 1858

Here is the main entrance. According to solemn days
Obsessed with Kholaopian ailment
Whole city with some fright
Drives up to the cherished doors;
After writing your name and title,
Guests go home,
So deeply satisfied with yourself
What you think - in the vision!
And on ordinary days this magnificent entrance
Mustle faces are besieged:
SPEEKTERS, FACTORERS OF SOTLES,
And an old old man and a widow.
From him and to him and know in the morning
All couriers with papers jump.
Returning, other sings "Trom-Tram",
And other petitioners cry.
Since I saw, men came here,
Rustic Russian people
Prayed to the church and became away,
Twinking brown heads to the chest;
The doorman appeared. "Advanced," say
With expressing hopes and flour.
He looked around: Nekrasivs in the opinion!
Tanned faces and hands
Armenian lean on shoulders,
On the cottomke on the backs of bent,
Cross on the neck and blood on the legs,
In homemade lapties
(Know, Brere Dolgonko they
From some distant provinces).
Someone shouted the Swiss: "Gony!
Our does not like tortuous mobile! "
And slammed the door. Standing
Unleashed pilgrims,
But the doorman did not let me, scarce lepta without taking
And they went, the sun palima,
Repeating: "Sudi Him God!",
Breeding hopeless hands
And, as long as I could see them,
With uncovered walked heads ...

And the owner of luxury chambers
I was still deeply broken ...
You, considering life to envy
Using flattery shamelessly
Fiberism, gluttony, game,
Awake! There is also a pleasure:
Touch them! In you, their salvation!
But happy deaf to good ...

The thunders of heaven are not afraid
And the earth you hold in your hands,
And these people are missing
Inseparable grief in the hearts.

What do you think that you grike
What do you like this poor people?
Eternal holiday fast running
Life does not give you any life.
And what? Clutch-flows for fun
You are a popular benefit;
You will live with a glov
And with glory die!
Serene Arcade idylly
Stayed old days.
Under the captivating sky of Sicily,
In the fragile wood shadow
Contemplating as the sun purple
Immersed in the sea azure,
Stripes his gold, -
Ubayukany affectionate singing
Mediterranean wave - as a child
You sleep, surrounded by care
Dear and beloved family
(Waiting for your death with impatience);
Bring your remains to us,
To honor the funeral trianu,
And you will go to the grave ... Hero,
Secretly damned depreciation
Aligned with loud prayer! ..

However, we are such a person
Worry for small people?
Do we not get angry on them? -
Safer ... more fun
In some way to make a consolation ...
It does not matter that he will suffer a man:
So leading us providence
Indicated ... Yes, he is used!
For the stamining, in Kharchevna, the poor
Everyone will eat poor people to the ruble
And go, beats the road,
And groaned ... Native Earth!
Call me such an abode
I did not see this corner,
Where would your sower and keeper
Where would a Russian man moan?
He moans in the fields, on the roads,
He moans in prisons, for the rich,
In mines, on the iron chain;
He moans under OVIN, under a stack,
Under the cart, spending the night in the steppe;
Moaning in his own poor Domishka,
The Light of God's Sun is not happy;
Moans in every deaf town,
At the entrance of ships and chambers.
Out to the Volga: whose moan is heard
Above the Great Russian River?
This moan has a song from us -
THAT BURLAKI go beching! ..
Volga! Volga! .. Spring multi-water
You do not fill the fields,
As a great sorrow of folk
Our land overflowed -
Where are the people, there and moan ... Eh, hearty!
What does your moan mean endless?
You will be waging, filled with forces,
Il, fate obeying the law
Everything that you could have already committed, -
Created a song like a moan,
And spiritually forever soil? ..

The poem "Reflections from the Paradinary Podlet" is written in Nekrasov in 1858. From the memories of Panaeva, it is known that in one of the rainy autumn days of Nekrasov saw from the window, as from the entrance in which the Minister of State Protection, the janitor and the city drove the peasants, pushing them in the back. After a couple of hours, the poem was ready. The genre scene, which became the basis of the poem, was supplemented with satire and generalizations.

The poem was printed by Herzen in the journal "Bell" without signature of the author.

Literary direction, genre

The poem is realistic describes the disease of the whole Russian society. To know the lazy and indifferent, the rest, and the peasants are dispersed and submissive. Genre scene at the front entrance - a reason for thinking about the fate of the Russian people and Russian society. This is a sample of civil lyrics.

Theme, main idea and composition, plot

The poem of Nekrasov plot. It can be conditionally divided into 3 parts.

The first part is a description of an ordinary day from the life of the entrance. According to solemn days, it is coming to an important person with visits or just leave a name in the book. On weekdays come wisp, "old man and widow". Not all the petitioners receive asking.

The second part is devoted to the "owner of luxury chambers." It begins with the appeal of the observer - the lyrical hero. The negative characteristic of the propellers is completed by the appeal to awaken and turn the petitioners. The following describes the estimated life and death of Velmazby.

The third part is a generalization and erection of this particular case in typical. No native land This place, wherever the Russian man, the sower and the keeper of this earth, did not suffer. In the state of spiritual sleep there are all classes: both the people, and owners of luxury chambers. For the people there is a way out - wake up.

The topic of thinking is the fate of the Russian people, the breadwinner - the Russian peasantry. The main idea is that the people will never try to the parade entrances of the Lord, these are residents of various inhabitable worlds. The only way out for the people is to find out forces for waking up.

Size and rhymes

The poem is written by a multiple anaper with an unordered alternation of three-stroke and four-stroke. The female and men's rhymes alternate, the types of rhymes are also changing: the ring, intersection and adjacent. The ending of the poem became a student song.

Trails and images

The poem begins with metonimia in combination with metaphor. The city is obsessed with the Kholaopian ailment, that is, the inhabitants of the city are driven, like slats, before anything. At the beginning of the poem is dryly listed by the petitioners. Special attention narrator pays descriptions of men and uses epithets: ugly, tanned faces and arms, Armenian lean, backs bent, scanty lept. Expression " They went, the sun palima"It became aphorism. The compassion causes a piercing detail: the peasants who were driven, go with uncovered heads, showing reverence.

Welject is described using high-conditioning metaphors. He holds terrestrial thunders in his hands, and heavenly not suffer. His life runs the eternal holiday. Sophisticated epithets of romantic poets describe the paradise life of Velmazby: serene arcade idyll, captivating sky of Sicily, fragrant wood shadow, sun purple, sea azure. The end of the life of Velmazby is described with irony and even sarcasm. The hero will be punched by a deceptive, dear and beloved family waiting for his death with impatience.

In the third part, metonimia is used again. The lyrical hero appeals to his native land, that is, to all its inhabitants. It opens the life of the stoneware people for all classes. Verb stonet Repeated as refrain. The song of the people is similar to the moan (comparison).

After turning to Russian land, Nekrasov appeals to the Volga. It compares the folk sorrow with the flowing waters of the Russian river. In this part of Nekrasov again uses epithets spring Multiple, Cardiac people, moan endless. Last appeal - Question to the people: Will he wake up, or his spiritual dream will last forever, according to the natural go of things? For realist, this question is not rhetorical. There is always a choice, the reality is unpredictable.

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