Poem by N. A. Nekrasov "Who Lives Well in Russia" from the Perspective of Christian Problems

Melnik V.I.

In literary criticism, several attempts have been made to comprehend the work of Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov in the context of Christian ideas. Now, of course, it is obvious that D.S. literary like-minded people - Belinsky, Dobrolyubov, Chernyshevsky - asked him if he believed in God, then there is no doubt that Nekrasov would be surprised and even offended: for whom is he considered? "

There is no doubt that Nekrasov experienced in his life a complex religious complex based, on the one hand, on love for the people and excellent knowledge of folk life, reflected in oral folk art, folk ideals, including religious ones, and on the other, on personal (from the point of view of the church, heretical) notion of the righteousness of revolutionary revolt and the need for moral asceticism and repentance. However, this issue requires a comprehensive study and is now only beginning to be investigated in relation to individual texts of the poet.

From this point of view, the poem "Who lives well in Russia" is of great interest - a kind of encyclopedia of Nekrasov's moral views. She gives a fairly complete picture of his religious views and knowledge.

It must be said that this knowledge is far from being "the average intellectual consciousness", as D.S. Merezhkovsky.

Nekrasov, with his heightened penitential feeling, undoubtedly, should have always been amazed by the images of people who changed dramatically and came from a great sin to a great repentance.

With some inevitability, Nekrasov constantly returns to the images of such ascetics in his poetry. So, back in 1855, in the poem "In the Hospital", it would seem, unexpectedly, but also characteristically, with emphasized drama, the image of an "old thief" who experienced a strong penitential feeling is encountered:

In his prison

A violent comrade wounded me.

He didn't want to do anything

He only threatened and raged.

Our nurse came up to him,

She shuddered suddenly - and not a word ...

In a strange silence, a minute passed:

Looking at one another?

Ended up being a morose villain

Drunk, splattered with blood

Suddenly he sobbed - before his first,

Light and honest love.

(They knew each other from a young age ...)

The cool old man has changed:

Cries and prays all day

Before the doctors I resigned myself.

In a later period, this image acquired an autobiographical character:

Move pen, paper, books!

Dear friend! I heard a legend:

Chains fell from the shoulders of the ascetic,

And the dead ascetic fell!

Compassion for the people of repentance psychological type quite in the spirit of the Russian people. The author of "Who Lives Well in Russia" and "Princess Volkonskaya" should have been almost fascinated by the history of people who make a voluntary sacrifice to God - like the Monk Galaktion of Vologda, who, being the son of Prince I.F. Belsky, the noblest of the Russian boyars, voluntarily left high society, "settled near the Vologda posad, shut himself up in a cramped cell, put himself on bread and water, chained himself in chains."

Nekrasov, obviously, was amazed by the religious heroes and ascetics whom he met in his life or about whom he heard from the people. There are few such ascetics in the poem. We are not yet talking about heroes taken in close-up - such as the folklore chieftain Kudeyar or Savely. Interesting in terms of "documentary" are episodic characters: this is the "wretched eldress" who "at the tomb of Jesus // Prayed to the Athos // Heights climbed and Fomushka, who has "two-pound chains // They are girded around the body. // In winter and summer barefoot." This is the "Old Believer Kropilnikov", who "reproaches the laity with godlessness, // Calls to the dense forests // Save ourselves ..."

As God's messenger

The old lady appears

In the cholera years;

Buries, heals. Tinkering

With the sick ...

Other "God's people" are also mentioned in the poem.

Nekrasov not only knows this side of the life of the people well, but precisely with his love for "hospitality", attention to the word of God, transmitted through "visiting wanderers", connects the potential spiritual power of the people, its mighty growth in the future. Let us recall that the famous words of the poet "The limits of the Russian people have not yet been set" are given in the poem in a Christian context:

Who has seen how they listen

Of his visiting wanderers

Peasant family,

Understand that neither work,

Not eternal care

Not a yoke of long slavery,

Not to the taverns themselves

More to the Russian people

No limits are set:

Before him is a wide path!

In the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" the overwhelming majority of folk heroes are distinguished by their true religiosity. Including seven wandering peasants who turn to the nobleman: "No, you are not a nobleman for us, // Give us a Christian word ..."

In this sense, one can speak of obvious authorial "pressures": we will not find such a degree of religiosity of the people, for example, in Pushkin, Gogol, or Tolstoy. There are reasons for this, which we will discuss below. In the early work of Nekrasov, we note that this is not.

Nekrasov knows very well folk religious legends, parables, omens, i.e. the sphere that is called folk Orthodoxy and which in one way or another manifested itself in the sphere of oral folk art. Here you can also name the folk superstitions he mentioned, such as: "Do not put on a clean shirt at Christmas: otherwise you will have a bad harvest" (chapter "A Difficult Year"), and folk performances about a comet ("The Lord walks through the sky // And His angels // Sweep with a fiery broom // Before the feet of God // In the heavenly field the path ..."), about the afterlife fate of boyars and peasants ("And what will be appointed: // They boil in the boiler, // And we put firewood).

However, Nekrasov's personal religious experience also came to light in the poem. This experience is somewhat unexpected and very interesting in content. So, in the chapter "Demushka" he mentions the Jesus Prayer, although, perhaps, not in its canonical meaning. In any case, he knows prayer, the meaning of which was not revealed to every "average intellectual". Of course, the poet knew about the Jesus Prayer not by experience, but only by hearsay, but he did. Nekrasov knows (obviously from book sources, although in the poem this is attributed to a simple peasant woman) about the power of prayer in solitude in the open air. In the chapter "The Governor's Girl" Matryona Timofeevna admits:

Praying on a frosty night

Under the starry sky of God

I have loved since then.

And advise wives:

You Can't Pray Harder

Nowhere and never.

Praying in the open air at Nekrasov's and Ipat, "the servant of the Utyatins".

The question of the very nature of Nekrasov's religious consciousness cannot be ignored. In our opinion, M.M. Dunaev, when he asserts: “This is how Nekrasov gets out of the life cohort of like-minded people, that he did not have indifference to God, to faith: after all, he was rooted in the life of the people, he never remained, like Chernyshevsky, an armchair idle thought , who inscribed the people with all the complexity of their existence in their far-fetched schemes. "

However, even F.M. Dostoevsky noted that Nekrasov's Vlas (1855), a true ascetic of Christian humility, is a certain exception in Nekrasov's "rebellious" works: "... It's so good that it was definitely not you who wrote; as if it was not you, but someone else who was making faces instead of you. then "on the Volga" in great poetry, too, about the burlak songs. " Indeed, in the poetry of Nekrasov, spontaneous poetry, there is a certain duality. Nekrasov, a poet of suffering, a poet who has a guilt complex before the people, a poet of personal repentance and admiration for heroic deeds, self-sacrifice, did not always distinguish, so to speak, the moral content of heroic deeds. He seems to be carried away by the very idea of ​​putting his soul "for his friends." In the act itself, regardless of its political or other orientation, Nekrasov sees an unconditional aura of holiness. He is equally admired by Vlas, who handed out his unjustly acquired wealth and walked around Russia with an "iron chain", and Grisha Dobrosklonov, who, on his rebellious revolutionary path, expects "consumption and Siberia." And there is just a sacrifice that delights Nekrasov and which he poetizes without any reservations.

This sincerity of Nekrasov kind of reconciles him, albeit with some reservations, with Dostoevsky, the singer of Christian humility, and with representatives of the revolutionary-democratic camp.

This is the sincerity of Nekrasov the poet, Nekrasov the artist - the central, pivotal moment in attempts to comprehend the dual nature of his work. Nekrasov was honest with himself, he wanted repentance ("Silence"), self-sacrifice and heroism in his fate ("Take me to the camp of the perishing"). The ideal of holiness was dominant for him.

This artistic sincerity prompted Nekrasov to glorify every human sacrifice, every feat, if only it was done in the name of other people. Such self-sacrifice became, as it were, the religion of Nekrasov. M.M. correctly noted. Dunayev that the poet "constantly matched the work of ... sacrificial struggle with spiritual concepts, undoubtedly religious."

Yes, Nekrasov in "Who Lives Well in Russia" (and not only in this work) constantly and organically uses religious concepts and symbols, which are grouped around the idea of ​​sacrifice, self-sacrifice. A consistently realized system of religious ideas can be traced in the poet's work.

The work of Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov is associated with the second period of Russian liberation movement... In his works, he examines the origins of social disasters and the means to overcome them. The poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" is the result of the author's thoughts about the fate of the country and the people. It resolves the main question of post-reform Russia: “The people have been liberated, but are the people happy?” Nekrasov shows the path leading to the people's happiness, the path of struggle.
In the center of the work is the image of the people. Describing it, the author uses simple Russian, using folklore, proverbs. The folk types created by the poet are mainly divided into two categories. The first, the most numerous, includes the peasants, pondering over their lives, in whose souls protest is already ripening. Another category of peasants - people poisoned by the poison of serfdom, turned into slaves.
Nekrasov repeatedly mentions in the poem about peasant riots, which intensified especially after the reform:
Has any of you heard
How the fiefdom rebelled
Landowner Obrubkov,
Frightened province
Uyezd Nedykhaniev,
Tetanus villages? ..
In this passage, attention is drawn to the speaking names, emphasizing the fear, downtroddenness of the inhabitants. And if the peasants of such places rebelled, then the cup of the people's patience was overflowing!
Among others, Yakim Nagoi stands out. He is the defender of the interests of the people and the spokesman for those protest moods that are growing among the peasant masses. Drawing a portrait of Yakim, Nikolai Alekseevich emphasizes his closeness to the land on which he was born, lived, worked:
And myself to mother earth
It looks like ...
The competent man Yakim Nagoy thought for a long time about the fate of his fellows, he managed to understand a lot from his own experience. He speaks about the people with love, with anger - about the enslavers:
Every peasant
Soul that black cloud -
Angry, formidable - and it should be
Thunders thunder from there,
To pour bloody rains ...
The image of a thundercloud is an image of the revolution, the storm that the poet called upon, exclaiming:
Thunder over the deep sea
In the field, in the forest, swish! ..
In many ways, Saveliy is similar to Yakim Nagogo. The old man sees the causes of evil, he has lost faith in God's help and in a good king, so characteristic of the patriarchal peasantry (“high is God, far is king”). The grandfather understands that it is not by humility, but by an ax that one must obtain will. Savely realizes the heroic might of the people, but with pain he sees that all the strength of the peasants is spent on infinite patience. Nekrasov reveals both the inconsistency of popular consciousness and the struggle between the age-old habit of slavery and the rebellious spirit.
From the story about Matryona Timofeevna, we understand more deeply that a spiritual storm is brewing in a woman, the most downtrodden and disadvantaged being. Faith in the people, in their spiritual awakening is expressed in the words of the poet:
Saved in slavery
Free heart -
Gold, gold
The heart of the people!
The author did not idealize the peasants, because many of them turned into slaves. He speaks of this part of the people with bitterness and contempt. The lackey Ipat (chapter "The Last One") is happy with his serf title, he does not want to hear about the will. Choking with emotion, he recalls the bullying of his master, calling him a "prince", and himself "the last slave." Nekrasov gives Ipat an apt assessment: "sensitive lackey." But there are also people like Jacob among the slaves. Unable to withstand the bullying, he took revenge on his master with his death. The poet understands that the cause of all national disasters is serfdom.
With sarcasm, he paints images of landlords. This is how, for example, Obolt-Obolduev is depicted:
Some kind of round gentleman,
Mustache, pot-bellied,
With a cigar in your mouth ...
In the peasant speech, a mockery of the serf owners is often heard:
We corvée have grown
Under the snout of the landowner ...
Nikolai Alekseevich creates images of “new people” who have emerged from the people’s environment and have become active fighters for the good of the people. This is Yermil Girin. Whoever he was, whatever he did, he strove to be useful to the peasant, to help him, to protect him.
The type of intellectual-democrat is embodied in Grisha Dobrosklonov. Grisha dreams of people's happiness more than his own. His love for his poor and exhausted mother gradually turns into love for his homeland. Dobrosklonov deliberately chooses the path along which "strong, loving souls" go. His image is typical of the “people's defender”. Grisha's characteristic is a thirst for learning. He believes in the future happiness of the people.
Dobrosklonov's songs contain hope and optimism. The song "Rus" ends with the lines:
The host rises -
Innumerable
The strength in her will affect
Unbreakable!

PROLOGUE

In what year - count
In which land - guess
On a pole track
Seven men came together:
Seven temporarily liable
Tightened province,
Terpigorev County,
Empty parish,
From adjacent villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neyolova -
Bad harvest too,
Agreed - and argued:
Who has fun
Is it at ease in Russia?

The novel said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
Luke said: the priest.
To the fat-bellied merchant! -
The brothers Gubins said,
Ivan and Mitrodor.
Old man Pakhom strained
And he said, looking into the ground:
To the noble boyar,
To the Sovereign Minister.
And Prov said: to the king ...

A man that is a bull: will be blown
What a whim in the head -
Colom her from there
You can't knock it out: they rest,
Everyone stands their ground!
Was such a dispute started,
What do passersby think -
To know, the guys found the treasure
And divide among themselves ...
On the case, everyone in their own way
I left the house before noon:
I kept that path to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
To christen the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two bros of Gubin
So easy with a halter
To catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It would be high time for everyone
Return on your own path -
They go side by side!
They walk as if they are chasing
Behind them are gray wolves,
What is far away is sooner.
They go - they are reproaching!
They shout - they will not come to their senses!
And time does not wait.

They did not notice the dispute,
As the sun went down red
As the evening came.
Probably b, kiss the night
So they walked - where they did not know,
When a woman meets them,
Gnarled Durandikha,
She did not shout: “Honorable ones!
Where are you looking at night
Have you thought of going? .. "

She asked, laughed,
Whipped, witch, gelding
And galloped off ...

"Where? .." - exchanged glances
Here are our men
They are standing, silent, looking down ...
The night is long gone
Frequent stars lit up
In the high skies
A month has surfaced, shadows are black
The road was cut
Zealous walkers.
Oops shadows! shadows are black!
Who won't you catch up?
Whom won't you overtake?
Only you, black shadows,
You can't catch-hug!

To the forest, to the path-path
Looked, Pakhom was silent,
I looked - scattered with my mind
And finally he said:

"Well! devil is a nice joke
He made fun of us!
After all, we are almost
We have gone thirty versts!
Home now toss and turn -
Tired - we won't get there
Let's sit down - there is nothing to do,
We'll rest until the sun! .. "

Dumping trouble on the devil,
Under the forest by the path
The men sat down.
We lit a fire, folded up,
Two ran for vodka,
And the others are pokudova
The glass was made,
Birch barks are piled up.
Vodka came soon,
Has come and a snack -
The peasants are feasting!
The kosushki drank three at a time,
Have eaten - and argued
Again: who has fun to live,
Is it at ease in Russia?
Roman shouts: to the landowner,
Demian shouts: to the official,
Luka shouts: ass;
To the fat-bellied merchant, -
Brothers are shouting Gubins,
Ivan and Metrodor;
Groin shouts: to the most luminous
To the noble boyar,
To the Minister of the Tsar,
And Prov shouts: to the king!
Visor more than ever
Playful men
They swear swearingly
No wonder they will grab onto
Each other in the hair ...

Look - we’ve already clung to it!
Roman plays with Pakhomushka,
Demian tricks Luka.
And the two bros of Gubin
Iron Prova hefty -
And everyone shouts his own!

A resounding echo woke up,
I went for a walk, for a walk,
I went to shout, shout,
As if to provoke
Stubborn men.
To the king! - to the right is heard,
Responds to the left:
Pop! ass! ass!
The whole forest was alarmed,
With flying birds
By swift beasts
And creeping reptiles, -
And moan, and roar, and hum!

Before everyone is a gray hare
From a nearby bush
Suddenly popped out like a disheveled
And he took off running!
Behind him the little ones grumble
At the top of the birch trees raised
Disgusting, sharp squeak.
And then there is the chiffchaff
With fright, a tiny chick
I fell from the nest;
The chiffchaff chirps, cries,
Where is the chick? - will not find!
Then the old cuckoo
I woke up and made up my mind
Cuckoo for someone;
It was taken ten times,
Yes, every time I got confused
And she started again ...
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!
The bread will be pricked
You will choke on an ear -
You will not cuckoo!
Seven owls flew together,
Admire the carnage
From seven big trees
The night owls laugh!
And their eyes are yellow
They burn like an ardent wax
Fourteen candles!
And a raven, a smart bird,
Has come, sits on a tree
By the fire
Sits and prays to the devil
To be smacked to death
Someone!
A cow with a bell
That fought back in the evening
From the herd, I barely heard
Human voices -
Came to the fire, set
Eyes on the men
I listened to crazy speeches
And the beginning, heart,
Moo, moo, moo!

The stupid cow hums,
Little grumbles squeal,
The violent guys are shouting,
And the echo echoes to everyone.
One care for him -
To tease honest people
Scare guys and women!
Nobody saw him
And everyone has heard
Without a body - but it lives,
Shouts without a tongue!

Wide path
Lined with birches
Stretched far
Sandy and deaf.
On the sides of the path
There are gentle hills
With fields, hayfields,
And more often with an uncomfortable
Abandoned land;
The villages are old,
New villages are standing
By the rivers, by the ponds ...
Forests, meadows,
Russian streams and rivers
In the spring they are good.
But you, spring fields!
Poor seedlings
It's not fun to look at!
“It’s not for nothing that in the long winter
(Our pilgrims interpret)
Snow fell every day.
Spring has come - the snow has affected!
He is humble for the time being:
Flies - is silent, lies - is silent,
When he dies, then it roars.
Water - wherever you look!
The fields are completely flooded
To carry manure - there is no road,
And the time is not too early -
The month of May is coming! "
Lovingly and old ones,
More sick than the new
Villages to look at them.
Oh huts, new huts!
You are smart, yes it builds you
Not an extra penny,
And a blood misfortune! ..,

In the morning we met the wanderers
More and more people are small:
His brother is a peasant-lapotnik,
Artisans, beggars,
Soldiers, coachmen.
The beggars, the soldiers
The wanderers did not ask
How is it easy for them, is it difficult
Living in Russia?
Soldiers shave with an awl,
The soldiers are warming themselves with smoke, -
What happiness is there? ..

Already the day was leaning towards evening,
They go the way, the way,
The pop rides towards.
The peasants took off their hats
They bowed low,
Lined up in a row
And the gelding to Savrasom
They blocked the way.
The priest raised his head
He looked, asked with his eyes:
What do they want?

“I suppose! we are not robbers! " -
Luke said to the priest.
(Luka is a big-ass man,
With a wide beard,
Stubborn, articulate and stupid.
Luca is like a mill:
One is not a bird mill,
That, no matter how it flaps its wings,
Probably not going to fly.)

“We are sedate men,
Of those temporarily liable,
Tightened province,
Terpigorev County,
Empty parish,
Roundabout villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neyolova -
Bad harvest, too.
We are going on an important matter:
We have a concern
Is such a care
That she survived from the house,
Made us friends with work,
Beaten off from food.
Give us the right word
To our peasant speech
Without laughter and without cunning,
By conscience, by reason,
To answer truthfully,
Not so with your caretaker
We will go to another ... "

I give you the right word:
If you ask a question,
Without laughter and without cunning,
In truth and reason,
How should I answer
Amen! .. -

"Thanks. Listen!
Walking the way, the way
We agreed by chance
Agreed and argued:
Who has fun
Is it at ease in Russia?
The novel said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
And I said: the priest.
To the fat-bellied merchant, -
The brothers Gubins said,
Ivan and Mitrodor.
Pakhom said: to the most luminous,
To the noble boyar,
To the Minister of the Tsar,
And Prov said: to the king ...
A man that is a bull: will be blown
What a whim in the head -
Colom her from there
You can't knock it out: no matter how you argue,
We disagreed!
Having argued - quarreled,
Having quarreled - fought,
Having fought, they thought:
Do not go apart
Do not toss and turn in the houses,
Not see any wives,
Not with little guys
Not with the old people,
As long as we dispute
We won't find a solution
Until we bring
No matter how it is - for sure:
To whom it is pleasant to live,
Is it at ease in Russia?
Tell us in a divine way:
Is the life of a priest sweet?
How are you - at ease, happily
Are you living, honest father? .. "

Downcast, thought
Sitting in a cart, pop
And he said: - Orthodox!
To murmur against God is a sin,
I carry my cross with patience
I live ... and how? Listen!
I'll tell you the truth, the truth
And you are a peasant mind
Dare! -
"Start!"

What is happiness in your opinion?
Peace, wealth, honor -
Isn't that so, dear friends?

They said: "So" ...

Now let's see, brothers,
What is the rest of the ass?
To start, to admit, it would be necessary
Almost from birth itself,
How does the diploma get
Popovsky son,
At what cost a priest
The priesthood is bought
Better keep quiet!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Our roads are difficult
We have a big parish.
Sick, dying
Born into the world
Do not choose time:
In the harvest and in the haymaking,
On a dead autumn night,
In winter, in severe frosts,
And in spring floods -
Go - where is the name!
You go unreservedly.
And even if only the bones
Broke alone, -
No! every time he will
The soul will overpower.
Do not believe, Orthodox,
There is a limit to the habit:
No heart to endure
Without a certain thrill
Death wheeze
Funeral sob
Orphan sorrow!
Amen! .. Now think
What is the rest of the ass? ..

The peasants thought little.
Letting the priest rest
They said with a bow:
"What more can you tell us?"

Now let's see, brothers,
What honor is the priest!
It's a delicate task
Wouldn't I anger you? ..

Tell me, Orthodox Christians,
Who do you call
A foal breed?
Chur! answer the demand!

The peasants have forgotten
They are silent - and the priest is silent ...

Who are you afraid of meeting,
Walking the way, the way?
Chur! answer the demand!

Groaning, shifting,
They are silent!
- About whom you compose
You are joking fairy tales,
And the songs are obscene
And any blasphemy? ..

I'll get a sedate mother
Popov's innocent daughter,
Seminary of everyone -
How do you honor?
Who is in pursuit, like a gelding,
Shout: ho-ho-ho? ..

The guys looked down,
They are silent - and the priest is silent ...
The peasants thought
And pop with a wide hat
He waved in his face
Yes, he looked at the sky.
In the spring, that the grandchildren are small,
With the rosy sun-grandpa
The clouds are playing:
Here is the right side
One continuous cloud
Covered - clouded
It got dark and cried:
Rows of threads are gray
They hung to the ground.
And closer, above the peasants,
From small, torn,
Cheerful clouds
The sun laughs red
Like a sheaf girl.
But the cloud has moved
Pop is covered with a hat -
Be in heavy rain.
And the right side
Already bright and joyful
There the rain stops.
Not rain, there is a miracle of God:
There with golden threads
Hanks are hung ...

"Not by yourself ... by your parents
We are so ... "- the Gubin brothers
Finally they said.
And the others agreed:
"Not on your own, for your parents!"
And the priest said: - Amen!
Sorry, Orthodox!
Not in condemnation of a neighbor,
And at your request
I told you the truth.
Such is the honor of the priest
In the peasantry. And the landlords ...

“You are past them, landowners!
We know them! "

Now let's see, brothers,
Where is the wealth
Is Popovskoye coming? ..
During the near
Empire Russian
Noble estates
It was full.
And the landowners lived there,
Famous owners,
Which are no longer there!
Fertile and multiply
And we were allowed to live.
That there were weddings played there,
That children were born
On free bread!
Although they are often cool,
However, the voluntary
They were gentlemen
The parish did not shy away:
They got married with us,
We baptized children
People came to us to repent
We sang them.
And if it happened,
That a landowner lived in the city,
So die probably
I came to the village.
If he dies by accident,
And then he will punish hard
Bury in the parish.
You look at the village temple
On a chariot of mourning
Six horses heirs
The deceased is being carried -
A good amendment to the ass,
To the laity, a holiday with a holiday ...
And now it’s not that!
Like a Jewish tribe,
The landowners scattered
In a distant foreign land
And native to Russia.
Now there is no time for pride
To lie in their own possession
Next to fathers, grandfathers,
And many possessions
Let's go to the traders.
Oh sleek bones
Russian, noble ones!
Where are you not buried?
What land are you not in?

Then an article ... schismatics ...
I am not sinful, I did not live
Nothing with the schismatics.
Fortunately, there was no need:
My parish includes
Living in Orthodoxy
Two thirds of the parishioners.
And there are such volosts,
Where almost all schismatics,
So what about the ass?
Everything in the world is changeable
The world itself will pass away ...
Previously strict laws
To the schismatics softened, [ ]
And with them and priest
The mat came to income.
The landowners were transferred,
They do not live in estates
And die in old age
They no longer come to us.
Wealthy landowners
Praying old women,
Who died out
Who settled down
Near monasteries.
Nobody is now a cassock
He won't give it to the priest!
No one will embroider the air ...
Live with peasants alone
Collect worldly dimes,
Yes pies for the holidays
Yes, eggs about the Holy One.
The peasant himself needs
And I would be glad to give, but nothing ...

And then not everyone
And the peasant penny is nice.
Our meager pleasures
Sands, swamps, mosses,
The cattle walks from hand to mouth
Bread itself-friend will be born,
And if you get uncomfortable
The cheese is the earth-nurse,
So the new trouble:
Nowhere to go with bread!
Support need, sell it
For sheer trifle,
And there - crop failure!
Then pay an exorbitant price
Sell ​​the cattle.
Pray, Orthodox!
Great trouble threatens
And this year:
The winter was fierce
Spring is rainy
It would have been a long time to sow,
And there is water in the fields!
Have mercy, Lord!
Let's go cool rainbow
To our heavens!
(Taking off his hat, the shepherd is baptized,
And listeners too.)
Our villages are poor
And in them the peasants are sick
Yes, women are sad women,
Nurses, drinkers,
Slaves, worshipers
And eternal workers
Lord give them strength!
With such labors a penny
It's hard to live!
It happens to the sick
You will come: not dying,
The peasant family is terrible
The hour she has to
To lose the breadwinner!
Parting with the deceased
And support the rest
Trying to the best of your ability
The spirit is cheerful! And here to you
The old woman, the mother of the deceased,
Lo and behold, stretches with bony,
Calloused hand.
The soul will turn over
How they ring in this little hand
Two copper dimes!
Of course, the matter is clean -
For demanding retribution,
Do not take - there is nothing to live with,
Yes word of comfort
Freeze on the tongue
And as if offended
Go home ... Amen ...

Finished speech - and gelding
Pop whipped lightly.
The peasants parted,
They bowed low,
The horse walked slowly.
And six comrades,
As if they conspired
They attacked with reproaches
With selected big swearing
On poor Luca:
- What, took it? stubborn head!
Village club!
There he gets into a dispute! -
"Bell nobles -
The priests live like a prince.
Go under the sky the most
Popov's rooms,
The priest's patrimony is buzzing -
The bells are loud -
The whole world of God.
For three years I, little robots,
He lived with the priest in the workers,
Raspberries are not life!
Popova porridge - with butter,
Popov pie - stuffed
Popov cabbage soup - with smelt!
Popov's wife is fat
Popova is a white daughter,
Popova's horse is fat,
The priest's bee is full,
How the bell rings! "
- Well, here's your vaunted
Popov's life!
Why was he screaming, swaggering?
Climbing into a fight, anathema?
Wasn't that what I thought to take,
What a shovel beard?
So with a beard goat
Walked around the world earlier
Than the forefather Adam,
A fool is considered
And now the goat! ..

Luka stood silent,
I was afraid they would not impose
Comrades in the sides.
It would become so
Yes, to the happiness of the peasant,
The road is lowered -
Priest's face is stern
Appeared on a hillock ...

Sorry for the poor peasant
And more pity the little animal;
Having fed meager reserves,
Master of twigs
I drove her into the meadows,
And what to take there? Blacky!
Only on Nikolay Veshniy
The weather has settled down
Green fresh grass
The cattle ate.

The day is hot. Under the birches
The peasants make their way
They gutt among themselves:
“We go to one village,
Let's go another - empty!
And today is a holiday.
Where did the people go? .. "
They go by the village - on the street
Some guys are small
In the houses - old women,
Or even completely locked
Lock gates.
The lock is a faithful dog:
Doesn't bark, doesn't bite,
But he does not let him into the house!
We passed the village and saw
Mirror in green frame:
A full pond with the edges.
Swallows fly over the pond;
Some kind of mosquitoes
Agile and skinny
Jumping like dry
Walk on the water.
Along the banks, in the broom,
Crake will hide.
On a long, wobbly raft
Tolstoy with a roll
It stands like a plucked haystack,
Tucking in the hem.
On the same raft
A duck with ducklings is sleeping ...
Chu! horse snoring!
The peasants looked at once
And they saw above the water
Two heads: peasant,
Curly and swarthy,
With an earring (the sun was blinking
On that white earring)
Another - horse
With a rope of five fathoms.
A man takes a rope in his mouth
A man swims - and a horse swims,
The peasant neighed - and the horse neighed.
They are floating, shouting! Under the woman,
Under the little ducklings
The raft is walking.

I caught up with the horse - grab the withers!
I jumped up and rode out to the meadow
Child: the body is white,
And the neck is like resin;
The water is rolling in streams
From horse and rider.

"What do you have in the village
Neither old nor small
How did all the people die out? "
- We went to the village of Kuzminskoye,
Today there is a fair
And a temple holiday. -
"How far is Kuzminskoye?"

Let it be three miles.

“Let's go to the village of Kuzminskoe,
Let's see the holiday-fair! "
The men decided
And they thought to themselves:
“Isn't he hiding there,
Who lives happily? .. "

Kuzminskoye rich,
And what's more - dirty
Trade village.
Stretches along the slope,
Then it descends into the ravine,
And there again on the hill -
How can there be no dirt here?
Two churches in it are old,
One Old Believer,
Another Orthodox,
House with the inscription: school,
Empty, packed tightly
Hut in one window,
With the image of a paramedic,
Bleeding.
There is a dirty hotel
Decorated with a sign
(With a big nosed teapot
The tray is in the hands of the carrier
And in small cups
Like a goose with goslings,
That teapot is surrounded)
There are permanent shops
Like a county
Gostiny Dvor ...!

The wanderers came to the square:
There are a lot of things for the goods
And seemingly invisibly
To the people! Isn't it fun?
It seems that there is no godfather's move,
And, as if in front of icons,
Men without hats.
Such a side!
Look where they go
Peasant slimes:
In addition to the wine warehouse,
Taverns, restaurants,
A dozen damask shops,
Three inns,
Yes "Renskoy cellar",
Yes, a couple of taverns,
Eleven tavern
For the holiday they put
Tents in the countryside.
Each has five trays;
Carriers are thugs
Well-planned, well-cut,
And they can't keep up with everything,
You can't handle the change!
Look what stretched
Peasant hands with hats,
With scarves, with mittens.
Oh, Orthodox thirst,
Where are you great!
Just to douse my darling
And there they will get hats,
How the bazaar will go.

By drunken heads
The spring sun is playing ...
Intoxicating, loudly, festively,
Motley, red all around!
The boys are wearing plisovy pants,
Striped vests,
Shirts of all colors;
The women are wearing red dresses
The girls have braids with ribbons,
They float with winches!
And there are also entertainers,
Dressed like a capital -
And expands and sulks
Hoop hem!
If you come in, they will get dressed up!
At ease, newfangled women,
Fishing tackle for you
Wear it under skirts!
The smart-looking women,
Old Believers are feisty
Tovarke says:
“Be hungry! be hungry!
Marvel that the seedlings are soaked
That the flood is more spring
Worth up to Petrov!
Since the women started
Dress up in red calico, -
Forests do not rise
And at least not this bread! "

Why are red calicoes
Are you guilty here, mother?
I can't imagine!

“And those French calicoes -
Painted with dog's blood!
Well ... do you understand now? .. "

The wanderers went to the shops:
Admire handkerchiefs
Ivanovo calico,
With shleys, new shoes,
We will make kimryaks.
At that shoe shop
The wanderers laugh again:
There are gantry shoes
Grandfather traded to his granddaughter,
I asked about the price five times,
Twisted in his hands, looked around:
The product is of the first grade!
“Well, uncle! Two two-corner
Pay, or get lost! " -
The merchant told him.
- Wait a minute! - Admires
Old man with a tiny boot,
Such is the speech:
- My son-in-law does not care, and my daughter will be silent
, Wife - spit, let her grumble!
And I'm sorry for my granddaughter! Hanged herself
On the neck, fidget:
“Buy a present, grandfather,
Buy it! " - Silk head
The face tickles, flippers,
Pisses the old man.
Wait, barefoot creepers!
Wait, whirligig! Gantry
Buy boots ...
Vavilushka boasted,
Both old and small
He promised gifts
And he drank himself to a penny!
As my eyes are shameless
Will I show you home? ..

My son-in-law does not care, and my daughter will be silent,
Wife - spit, let her grumble!
And I'm sorry for my granddaughter! .. - Went again
About the granddaughter! Kills! ..
The people gathered, listen,
Do not laugh, feel sorry for;
Happen, work, bread
They would help him
And take out two two-cents,
So you yourself will be left with nothing.
Yes, there was a man here
Pavlusha Veretennikov.
(What kind of title,
The peasants did not know
However, they called him "master".
He was pretty good at balding,
Wore a red shirt
Cloth undergarment,
Grease boots;
Sang fluently Russian songs
And he loved to listen to them.
Many have seen him
In the inns
In taverns, in taverns.)
So he helped Vavila out -
I bought him shoes.
Vavilo grabbed them
And he was like that! - For joy
Thanks even to the master
Forgot to tell the old man
But other peasants
So they were comforted,
So happy, as if everyone
He gave it in rubles!
There was also a shop here
With pictures and books
Ofeni stocked up
With your merchandise in it.
"Do you need generals?" -
The scorch merchant asked them.
- And give the generals!
Yes, only you are conscientious
So that they are real -
Thicker, more threatening.

“Wonderful! how do you look! -
The merchant said with a grin. -
It's not about the build ... "
- And in what? kidding me, friend!
Rubbish, or what, it is desirable to sell?
Where are we going with her?
You are naughty! Before the peasant
All generals are equal
Like cones on spruce:
To sell the shabby one
You need to get to the dock,
And the fat and the terrible
I'll fool everyone ...
Come on big, dignified,
Chest uphill, bulging eyes,
Yes, to more stars!

"Would you like civilians?"
- Well, here's more with the civil servants! -
(However, they took it - cheap! -
Of some dignitary
For belly with a barrel of wine
And seventeen stars.)
Merchant - with all due respect,
What he likes he treats
(From Lubyanka - the first thief!) -
Lowered a hundred Blucher,
Archimandrite Photius,
Rogue Sipko,
Sold books: "Jester Balakirev"
And "English my lord" ...

We put little books in a box,
Let's go for a walk portraits
For the kingdom of all Russia,
Until they settle down
In a peasant summer house,
On a low wall ...
The devil knows what for!

Eh! eh! will the time come
When (come, desired! ..)
They will make it clear to the peasant
What a portrait of a portrait,
What is the book of the book?
When a man is not Blucher
And not my foolish lord -
Belinsky and Gogol
Will they carry it from the bazaar?
Oh people, Russian people!
Orthodox peasants!
Have you ever heard
Are you those names?
Those are great names
Wore them, glorified them
People's defenders!
Here you have their portraits
Hang in your chambers,
Read their books ...

"And I would be glad to heaven, but where is the door?" -
This kind of speech breaks in
To the shop unexpectedly.
- Which door do you want? -
“Yes to the booth. Chu! music!.."
- Come on, I'll show you!

Having heard about the booth,
Let's go our pilgrims too
Listen, take a look.
A comedy with Petrushka,
With a goat with a drummer
And not with a simple organ,
And with real music
They looked here.
Comedy is not wise
However, not stupid either,
Lost, quarterly
Not in the eyebrow, but right in the eye!
The hut is full, half-hearted,
The people are cracking nuts
And then two or three peasants
They will spread a word -
Look, vodka has appeared:
They'll see and drink!
They laugh, they are comforted
And often in speech to Petrushkin
Insert a well-aimed word,
What you can't imagine
Swallow the feather at least!

There are such lovers -
How the comedy ends
They will go behind the screens,
Complain, fraternize,
Rumble with the musicians:
"Where, well done?"
- And we were masters,
We played the landlord
Now we are free people
Who will bring it up, sweat it,
That is our master!

“And business, dear friends,
Quite a bar you amused,
Amuse the men!
Hey! small! sweet vodka!
Liqueurs! tea! half beer!
Tsimlyansky - live! .. "

And the sea is poured
Will go, more generous than the lord
The children will be treated.

The winds do not blow violent
Mother earth does not sway -
Noises, sings, swears,
Swinging, lying around
Fights and complains
People have a holiday!
He showed the peasants
How we went out on a hillock,
That the whole village is reeling
That even the church is old
From the high bell tower
It staggered once or twice! -
Here sober, that naked,
Awkward ... our pilgrims
Walked across the square
And by the evening they left
A turbulent village ...

"Move aside, people!"
(Excise officials
With bells, with badges
They swept from the bazaar.)

“And I mean now:
And a broom rubbish, Ivan Ilyich,
And walks on the floor
Where will it spray! "

“God forbid, Parashenka,
Don't go to St. Petersburg!
There are such officials
You are their cook day,
And their night is maddening -
So it doesn't give a damn! "

"Where are you going, Savvushka?"
(The priest shouts to the Sotsky
On horseback, with a government plate.)
- I ride to Kuzminskoye
Behind the Stanov. Occasion:
There in front of the peasant
They killed ... - "Eh!., Sins! .."

"How thin you have become, Daryushka!"
- Not a spindle, friend!
This is what turns more,
It becomes more belly
And I'm like a day-to-day ...

“Hey guy, silly guy,
Ragged, lousy
Hey, love me!
Me, simple-haired,
A drunken woman, old,
Zaaa-paaaa-chinky! .. "

Our peasants are sober,
Looking, listening
They go their own way.

In the middle of the path
Some guy is quiet
I dug a large hole.
"What are you doing here?"
- And I bury my mother! -
"Fool! what a mother!
Look: new coat
You buried it in the ground!
Go quickly yes grunt
Lay down in the ditch, drink some water!
Maybe the nonsense will jump off! "

"Come on, let's stretch!"

Two peasants sit down,
Resting on their feet
And they live, and they push,
Groaning - stretching on a rolling pin,
The joints are cracking!
I didn't like it on the rolling pin:
"Let's try now
Stretch your beard! "
When the beard is tidy
They diminished each other,
They clung to the cheekbones!
They puff, blush, writhe,
They moo, squeal, and stretch!
"Let it be for you, damned!"
You won't spill it with water!

Women quarrel in the ditch
One shouts: "Go home
More sickening than hard labor! "
Another: - You're lying, in my house
Worse than yours!
My elder son-in-law broke my rib,
The middle son-in-law stole a ball,
A ball of spit, but the point is -
The fifty-kopeck piece was wrapped in it,
And the younger son-in-law takes all the knife,
Look, he will kill him, he will kill him! ..

“Well, full, full, dear!
Well, don't be angry! - behind the roller
You can hear nearby, -
I'm nothing ... let's go! "
Such a disastrous night!
Whether to the right or to the left
You will see from the road:
Couples are walking together
Are they going to that grove?
That grove beckons everyone
In that grove, vociferous
Nightingales sing ...

The road is crowded
What is more ugly later:
More and more often come across
Beaten, crawling
Lying in a layer.
Without swearing, as usual,
A word will not be spoken
Crazy, obscene,
She is the most audible!
The taverns are in turmoil
The carts are messed up
Scared horses
They run without riders;
Small children cry here,
Wives, mothers grieve:
Is it easy from a drinking
Call men? ..

At the road post
A familiar voice is heard
Our pilgrims are coming
And they see: Veretennikov
(What are the gantry shoes
I gave it to Vavila)
Conversations with peasants.
The peasants open up
Milyage likes:
Pavel will praise the song -
They will sing five times, write it down!
Like the proverb -
Write the proverb!
Having written enough
Veretennikov told them:
“Russian peasants are smart,
One thing is not good
What they drink to the point of stupor
They fall into ditches, into ditches -
It's a shame to look! "

The peasants listened to that speech,
They cheered on the master.
Pavlusha something in the little book
I already wanted to write
Yes, drunk came out
Man - he is against the master
I lay on my stomach
I looked into his eyes,
I kept silent - but suddenly
How to jump up! Straight to the master -
Grab the pencil from your hands!
- Wait, empty head!
Crazy news, shameless
Don't talk about us!
What are you jealous of!
That the poor is having fun
Peasant soul?
We drink a lot in time
And the more we work,
You see a lot of us drunk
And more of us sober.
Have you been in the villages?
Let's take a bucket of vodka
Let's go to the huts:
In one, in the other they will pile up,
And in the third they will not touch -
Our family is drinking
Non-drinking family!
They do not drink, but also toil,
It would be better if they drank, stupid ones,
Yes, the conscience is ...
It's wonderful to watch as it tumble
In such a sober hut
Peasant trouble, -
And I would not look! .. I saw
Are the Russian villages in pain?
In a drinking-house, eh, people?
We have vast fields,
And not much generous
Tell me, by whose hand
From spring they will dress
Will they undress in the fall?
Have you met a man
After work in the evening?
Reap a good mountain
I put it down, ate it from a pea:
"Hey! hero! straw
I'll knock you down, step aside! "

The peasants, as they noticed,
That they are not offended by the master
Yakim's words
And they themselves agreed
With Yakim: - The word is true:
It befits us to drink!
We drink - it means we feel the strength!
Great sorrow will come
How can we stop drinking! ..
The work would not fail
The trouble would not prevail
Hops won't beat us!
Is not it?

"Yes, God is merciful!"

Well, have a glass with us!

We got some vodka and drank it.
Yakima Veretennikov
I raised two scales.

Ay sir! not angry
Reasonable little head!
(Yakim told him.)
Reasonable little head
How not to understand the peasant?
And the pigs walk on the ground -
They do not see the sky for centuries! ..

Suddenly the song burst out in unison
Removing consonant:
A dozen threesomes,
Khmelninki, and do not fall,
They walk in a row, sing,
They sing about Mother Volga,
About brave prowess,
About girlish beauty.
The whole path has quieted down,
That one song is foldable
Rolls wide, freely,
Like rye spreads in the wind,
According to the heart of the peasant
Goes with longing fire! ..
To the song that daring
Lost in thought, burst into tears
Young one:
“My century is like a day without the sun,
My century is like a night without a month
And I, mlada-young,
That a greyhound horse on a leash
What a swallow without wings!
My old husband, jealous husband,
Drunk drunk, snoring snoring,
Me, young, young,
And sleepy guards! "
So the young woman cried
Yes, she suddenly jumped off the cart!
"Where?" - shouts a jealous husband,
Got up - and a woman by the scythe,
Like a radish for a whip!

Ouch! night, drunk night!
Not bright, but starry,
Not hot, but tender
Spring breeze!
And to our good fellows
You weren't wasted!
They felt sad for their little wives,
It is true: with the little wife
Now it would be more fun!
Ivan shouts: "I want to sleep",
And Maryushka: - And I'm with you! -
Ivan shouts: "The bed is narrow",
And Maryushka: - Let's settle down! -
Ivan shouts: "Oh, it's cold",
And Maryushka: - Let's get dark! -
How did they remember that song
Without a word - agreed
Try your casket.

One why God knows
Between the field and the road
A thick linden tree has grown.
Wanderers sat down under it
And they said carefully:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth,
Treat the peasants! "

And the tablecloth unfolded
From where it came from
Two hefty hands:
They put a bucket of wine,
A mountain of bread was laid
And they hid again.

The peasants have strengthened,
Roman for the sentry
Stayed by the bucket
And the others intervened
Into the crowd - look for the happy one:
They wanted to
Hurry to get home ...

Who lives well in Russia

Nikolay Alekseevich Nekrasov

"Who Lives Well in Russia" is the final work of Nekrasov, a folk epic, which includes all the centuries-old experience of peasant life, all the information about the people, collected by the poet "by word" for twenty years.

Nikolay Alekseevich Nekrasov

Who lives well in Russia

PART ONE

In what year - count

In which land - guess

On a pole track

Seven men came together:

Seven temporarily liable

Tightened province,

Terpigorev County,

Empty parish,

From adjacent villages:

Zaplatova, Dyryavina,

Razutova, Znobishina,

Gorelova, Neyolova -

Bad harvest too,

Agreed - and argued:

Who has fun

Is it at ease in Russia?

The novel said: to the landowner,

Demyan said: to the official,

Luke said: the priest.

To the fat-bellied merchant! -

The brothers Gubins said,

Ivan and Mitrodor.

Old man Pakhom strained

And he said, looking into the ground:

To the noble boyar,

To the Sovereign Minister.

And Prov said: to the king ...

A man that is a bull: will be blown

What a whim in the head -

Colom her from there

You can't knock it out: they rest,

Everyone stands their ground!

Was such a dispute started,

What do passersby think -

To know, the guys found the treasure

And divide among themselves ...

On the case, everyone in their own way

I left the house before noon:

I kept that path to the forge,

He went to the village of Ivankovo

Call Father Prokofy

To christen the child.

Groin honeycomb

Carried to the market in Velikoye,

And the two bros of Gubin

So easy with a halter

To catch a stubborn horse

They went to their own herd.

It would be high time for everyone

Return on your own path -

They go side by side!

They walk as if they are chasing

Behind them are gray wolves,

What is far away is sooner.

They go - they are reproaching!

They shout - they will not come to their senses!

And time does not wait.

They did not notice the dispute,

As the sun went down red

As the evening came.

Probably a whole night

So they walked - where they did not know,

When a woman meets them,

Gnarled Durandikha,

She did not shout: “Honorable ones!

Where are you looking at night

Have you thought of going? .. "

She asked, laughed,

Whipped, witch, gelding

And galloped off ...

"Where? .." - exchanged glances

Here are our men

They are standing, silent, looking down ...

The night is long gone

Frequent stars lit up

In the high skies

A month has surfaced, shadows are black

The road was cut

Zealous walkers.

Oops shadows! shadows are black!

Who won't you catch up?

Whom won't you overtake?

Only you, black shadows,

You can't catch - hug!

To the forest, to the path-path

Looked, Pakhom was silent,

I looked - scattered with my mind

And finally he said:

"Well! devil is a nice joke

He made fun of us!

After all, we are almost

We have gone thirty versts!

Home now toss and turn -

Tired - we won't get there

Let's sit down - there is nothing to do.

We'll rest until the sun! .. "

Dumping trouble on the devil,

Under the forest by the path

The men sat down.

We lit a fire, folded up,

Two ran for vodka,

And the others are pokudova

The glass was made,

Birch barks are piled up.

Vodka came soon.

Has come and a snack -

The peasants are feasting!

The kosushki drank three at a time,

Have eaten - and argued

Again: who has fun to live,

Is it at ease in Russia?

Roman shouts: to the landowner,

Demian shouts: to the official,

Luka shouts: ass;

To the fat-bellied merchant, -

Brothers are shouting Gubins,

Ivan and Metrodor;

Groin shouts: to the most luminous

To the noble boyar,

To the Minister of the Tsar,

And Prov shouts: to the king!

Visor more than ever

Playful men

They swear swearingly

No wonder they will grab onto

In each other's hair ...

Look - we’ve already clung to it!

Roman plays with Pakhomushka,

Demian tricks Luka.

And the two bros of Gubin

Iron Prova hefty, -

And everyone shouts his own!

A resounding echo woke up,

I went for a walk, for a walk,

I went to shout, shout,

As if to provoke

Stubborn men.

To the king! - to the right is heard,

Responds to the left:

Pop! ass! ass!

The whole forest was alarmed,

With flying birds

By swift beasts

And creeping reptiles, -

And moan, and roar, and hum!

Before everyone is a gray hare

From a nearby bush

Suddenly jumped out, as if disheveled,

And he took off running!

Behind him the little ones grumble

At the top of the birch trees raised

Disgusting, sharp squeak.

And then there is the chiffchaff

With fright, a tiny chick

I fell from the nest;

The chiffchaff chirps, cries,

Where is the chick? - will not find!

Then the old cuckoo

I woke up and made up my mind

Cuckoo for someone;

It was taken ten times,

Yes, every time I got confused

And she started again ...

Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!

The bread will be pricked

You will choke on an ear -

You will not cuckoo!

Seven owls flew together,

Admire the carnage

From seven big trees

Laughing, night owls!

And their eyes are yellow

They burn like an ardent wax

Fourteen candles!

And a raven, a smart bird,

Has come, sits on a tree

By the fire itself.

Sits and prays to the devil

To be smacked to death

Someone!

A cow with a bell

That fought back in the evening

Came to the fire, set

Eyes on the men

I listened to crazy speeches

And the beginning, heart,

Moo, moo, moo!

The stupid cow hums,

The little ones are squealing.

The violent guys are shouting,

And the echo echoes to everyone.

One care for him -

To tease honest people

Scare guys and women!

Nobody saw him

And everyone has heard

Without a body - but it lives,

Without a tongue - screams!

Owl - zamoskvoretskaya

The princess is mooing right there,

Flies over the peasants

Shuffling on the ground

That about the bushes with a wing ...

The fox itself is cunning,

By the curiosity of a woman,

Sneaked up to the men

Listened, listened

And she walked away, thinking:

"And the devil won't understand them!"

Indeed: the debaters themselves

We hardly knew, remembered -

What are they making noise about ...

Humping the sides decently

Each other, come to their senses

The peasants finally

Drank from a puddle

Have washed, refreshed,

The dream began to roll them ...

At that time, a tiny chick,

Little by little, half a plant,

Low flying,

I got close to the fire.

Pakhomushka caught him,

Brought to the fire, looked

And he said: “Little bird,

And the marigold is awesome!

I breathe - you will roll off the palm,

I sneeze - you will roll into the fire,

I click - you roll dead,

But all the same, you, little bird,

Stronger than a man!

The wings will get stronger soon,

Huh! wherever you want,

You will fly there!

Oh you, little birdie!

Give us your wings

We will fly around the whole kingdom,

Let's see, taste,

We will ask - and we will find out:

Who lives happily

Is it at ease in Russia? "

"Wouldn't even need wings,

If only we had bread

Half a day a day, -

And so we would be Mother Russia

We measured it with our feet! " -

Said the gloomy Prov.

"Yes, a bucket of vodka", -

Increased the desire

Before the vodka, the Gubin brothers,

Ivan and Mitrodor.

"Yes, in the morning there would be cucumbers

There are ten salty ones ", -

The men were joking.

"And at noon I would have a jug

Cold kvass ".

"And in the evening for a teapot

Hot seagull ... "

While they grumbled

The warbler whirled, whirled

Above them: listened to everything

And she sat down by the fire.

Chiviknula, jumped

Pahomu says:

“Let the chick free!

For a chick for a small

I will give a large ransom. "

- What will you give? -

"I'll give you bread

Half a day a day

I'll give you a bucket of vodka,

In the morning I will give cucumbers,

And at noon sour kvass,

And in the evening a seagull! "

- And where,

Page 2 of 11

small birdie, -

The Gubin brothers asked, -

You will find wine and bread

Are you seven men? -

“Find - you yourself will find.

And I, little birdie,

I'll tell you how to find it. "

- Tell! -

“Go through the woods,

Against the thirtieth pillar

Just a mile away:

You will come to the clearing

Are standing in that meadow

Two old pines

Under these under the pines

The box is buried.

Get her, -

The box is that magic:

There is a self-assembled tablecloth in it,

Whenever you wish

Feed, give water!

Just say quietly:

"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth!

Treat the peasants! "

According to your desire,

At my behest

Everything will appear immediately.

Now - let the chick go! "

- Wait! we are poor people

We go on a long road, -

Pakhom answered her. -

I see you are a wise bird

Respect - old clothes

Bewitch us!

- So that the Armenians are peasants

Was worn, not worn! -

Roman demanded.

- So that linden lapotts

They served, did not break, -

Demian demanded.

- That louse, nasty flea

In shirts did not multiply, -

Luke demanded.

- Wouldn't they be deceived by the girls ... -

Gubina demanded ...

And the bird answered them:

“All the tablecloth is self-assembled

Repair, wash, dry

You will ... Well, let it go! .. "

Opening a wide palm,

I let the chick go through the groin.

Let it go - and a tiny chick,

Little by little, half a plant,

Low flying,

He went to the hollow.

A chiffchaff soared behind him

And on the fly she added:

“Look, mind you, one!

How much edible it will endure

Womb - then ask

And you can demand vodka

One bucket a day.

If you ask more,

And one and two - it will come true

According to your desire,

And in the third there will be trouble! "

And the warbler flew away

With your dear chick,

And the men in single file

Stretched to the road

Search for the thirtieth pillar.

Found! - Walk silently

Directly, rightly

Through the forest through the dense,

Each step is counted.

And how the mile was measured,

We saw a clearing -

Are standing in that meadow

Two old pines ...

The peasants dug

We got that box

Opened - and found

That self-assembled tablecloth!

They found it and cried out at once:

“Hey, self-assembled tablecloth!

Treat the peasants! "

Lo and behold - the tablecloth unfolded,

From where it came from

Two hefty hands

They put a bucket of wine,

A mountain of bread was laid

And they hid again.

"Why aren't there cucumbers?"

"What's not hot seagull?"

"That there is no cold kvask?"

Everything appeared suddenly ...

The peasants got loose

We sat down by the tablecloth.

Let's go to the feast like a mountain!

They kiss for joy

A friend to a friend is promised

Do not fight in vain forward,

But the matter is really controversial

According to reason, in a divine way,

On the honor of the story -

Do not toss and turn in the houses,

Not see any wives,

Not with little guys

Not with the old people,

As long as the matter is controversial

No solution will be found

Until they bring

As it is for certain:

Who lives happily

Is it at ease in Russia?

Putting such a zarok,

In the morning like the dead

The men fell asleep ...

Chapter I. POP

Wide path

Lined with birches

Stretched far

Sandy and deaf.

On the sides of the path

There are gentle hills

With fields, with hayfields,

And more often with an uncomfortable

Abandoned land;

The villages are old,

New villages are standing

By the rivers, by the ponds ...

Forests, meadows,

Russian streams and rivers

In the spring they are good.

But you, spring fields!

Poor seedlings

It's not fun to look at!

“It’s not for nothing that in the long winter

(Our pilgrims interpret)

Snow fell every day.

Spring has come - the snow has affected!

He is humble for the time being:

Flies - is silent, lies - is silent,

When he dies, then it roars.

Water - wherever you look!

The fields are completely flooded

To carry manure - there is no road,

And the time is not too early -

The month of May is coming! "

Lovingly and old ones,

More sick than the new

Villages to look at them.

Oh huts, new huts!

You are smart, yes it builds you

Not an extra penny,

And a blood misfortune! ..

In the morning we met the wanderers

More and more people are small:

His brother is a peasant-lapotnik,

Artisans, beggars,

Soldiers, coachmen.

The beggars, the soldiers

The wanderers did not ask

How is it easy for them, is it difficult

Living in Russia?

Soldiers shave with an awl,

The soldiers are warming themselves with smoke -

What happiness is there? ..

Already the day was leaning towards evening,

They go the way, the way,

The pop rides towards.

The peasants took off their hats.

They bowed low,

Lined up in a row

And the gelding to Savrasom

They blocked the way.

The priest raised his head

He looked, asked with his eyes:

What do they want?

“I suppose! we are not robbers! " -

Luke said to the priest.

(Luka is a big-ass man,

With a wide beard.

Stubborn, articulate and stupid.

Luca is like a mill:

One is not a bird mill,

That, no matter how it flaps its wings,

Probably not going to fly.)

“We are sedate men,

Of those temporarily liable,

Tightened province,

Terpigorev County,

Empty parish,

Roundabout villages:

Zaplatova, Dyryavina,

Razutova, Znobishina,

Gorelova, Neyolova -

Bad harvest, too.

We are going on an important matter:

We have a concern

Is such a care

Which survived from the houses,

Made us friends with work,

Beaten off from food.

Give us the right word

To our peasant speech

Without laughter and without cunning,

By conscience, by reason,

To answer truthfully,

Not so with your caretaker

We will go to another ... "

- I give you the right word:

If you ask a question,

Without laughter and without cunning,

In truth and reason,

How should I answer.

"Thanks. Listen!

Walking the way, the way

We agreed by chance

Agreed and argued:

Who has fun

Is it at ease in Russia?

The novel said: to the landowner,

Demyan said: to the official,

And I said: the priest.

To the fat-bellied merchant, -

The brothers Gubins said,

Ivan and Mitrodor.

Pakhom said: to the most luminous

To the noble boyar,

To the Sovereign Minister.

And Prov said: to the king ...

A man that is a bull: will be blown

What a whim in the head -

Colom her from there

You can't knock it out: no matter how you argue,

We disagreed!

Having argued - quarreled,

Having quarreled - fought,

Having fought, they thought:

Do not go apart

Do not toss and turn in the houses,

Not see any wives,

Not with little guys

Not with the old people,

As long as we dispute

We won't find a solution

Until we bring

No matter how it is - for sure:

To whom it is pleasant to live,

Is it at ease in Russia?

Tell us in a divine way:

Is the life of a priest sweet?

How are you - at ease, happily

Are you living, honest father? .. "

Downcast, thought

Sitting in a cart, pop

And he said: - Orthodox!

To murmur against God is a sin,

I carry my cross with patience

I live ... but how? Listen!

I'll tell you the truth, the truth

And you are a peasant mind

Dare! -

"Start!"

- What is happiness, in your opinion?

Peace, wealth, honor -

Isn't that so, dear friends?

They said: "So" ...

- Now let's see, brothers,

What is the rest of the ass?

To start, to admit, it would be necessary

Almost from birth itself,

How does the diploma get

the priest's son,

At what cost a priest

The priesthood is bought

Better keep quiet!

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

Page 3 of 11

. . . . . . . . . .

Our roads are difficult.

We have a big parish.

Sick, dying

Born into the world

Do not choose time:

In the harvest and in the haymaking,

On a dead autumn night,

In winter, in severe frosts,

And in spring floods -

Go where the name is!

You go unreservedly.

And even if only the bones

Broke alone, -

No! every time he will

The soul will overpower.

Do not believe, Orthodox,

There is a limit to the habit:

No heart to endure

Without a certain thrill

Death wheeze

Funeral sob

Orphan sorrow!

Amen! .. Now think.

What is the rest of the ass? ..

The peasants thought little

Letting the priest rest

They said with a bow:

"What more can you tell us?"

- Now let's see, brothers,

What is the priest honor?

It's a delicate task

Wouldn't make you angry ...

Tell me, Orthodox Christians,

Who do you call

A foal breed?

Chur! answer the demand!

The peasants have forgotten themselves.

They are silent - and the priest is silent ...

- Who are you afraid of meeting,

Walking the way, the way?

Chur! answer the demand!

Groaning, shifting,

- About whom you compose

You are joking fairy tales,

And the songs are obscene

And any blasphemy? ..

I'll get a sedate mother,

Popov's innocent daughter,

Seminary of everyone -

How do you honor?

Who is in pursuit, like a gelding,

Shout: ho-ho-ho? ..

The guys looked down,

They are silent - and the priest is silent ...

The peasants thought

And pop with a wide hat

He waved in his face

Yes, he looked at the sky.

In the spring, that the grandchildren are small,

With the rosy sun-grandpa

The clouds are playing:

Here is the right side

One continuous cloud

Covered - clouded

It got dark and cried:

Rows of threads are gray

They hung to the ground.

And closer, above the peasants,

From small, torn,

Cheerful clouds

The sun laughs red

Like a sheaf girl.

But the cloud has moved

Pop is covered with a hat -

Be in heavy rain.

And the right side

Already bright and joyful

There the rain stops.

Not rain, there is a miracle of God:

There with golden threads

Hanks are hung ...

"Not by yourself ... by your parents

We are so ... "- the Gubin brothers

Finally they said.

And the others agreed:

"Not on your own, for your parents!"

And the priest said: - Amen!

Sorry, Orthodox!

Not in condemnation of a neighbor,

And at your request

I told you the truth.

Such is the honor of the priest

In the peasantry. And the landowners ...

“You are past them, landowners!

We know them! "

- Now let's see, brothers,

Where is the wealth

Is Popovskoye coming? ..

During the near

Russian Empire

Noble estates

It was full.

And the landowners lived there,

Famous owners,

Which are no longer there!

Fertile and multiply

And we were allowed to live.

That there were weddings played there,

That children were born

On free bread!

Although they are often cool,

However, the voluntary

They were gentlemen

The parish did not shy away:

They got married with us,

We baptized children

People came to us to repent

We sang them

And if it happened,

That a landowner lived in the city,

So die probably

I came to the village.

If he dies by accident,

And then he will punish hard

Bury in the parish.

You look at the village temple

On a chariot of mourning

Six horses heirs

The deceased is being carried -

A good amendment to the ass,

A holiday for the laity ...

And now it’s not that!

Like a Jewish tribe,

The landowners scattered

In a distant foreign land

And native to Russia.

Now there is no time for pride

To lie in their own possession

Next to fathers, grandfathers,

And many possessions

Let's go to the traders.

Oh sleek bones

Russian, noble ones!

Where are you not buried?

What land are you not in?

Then, an article ... schismatics ...

I am not sinful, I did not live

Nothing with the schismatics.

Fortunately, there was no need:

My parish includes

Living in Orthodoxy

Two thirds of the parishioners.

And there are such volosts,

Where almost all schismatics,

So what about the ass?

Everything in the world is changeable

The world itself will pass away ...

Previously strict laws

To the schismatics, softened,

And with them and priest

The mat came to income.

The landowners were transferred,

They do not live in estates

And die in old age

They no longer come to us.

Wealthy landowners

Praying old women,

Who died out

Who settled down

Near monasteries

Nobody is now a cassock

He won't give it to the priest!

Nobody will embroider the air ...

Live with peasants alone

Collect worldly dimes,

Yes pies for the holidays

Yes, eggs about the saint.

The peasant himself needs

And I would be glad to give, but there is nothing ...

And then not everyone

And the peasant penny is nice.

Our meager pleasures

Sands, swamps, mosses,

The cattle walks from hand to mouth

Bread itself-friend will be born,

And if you get uncomfortable

The cheese is the earth-nurse,

So the new trouble:

Nowhere to go with bread!

Support need, sell it

For sheer trifle,

And there - crop failure!

Then pay an exorbitant price

Sell ​​the cattle.

Pray, Orthodox!

Great trouble threatens

And this year:

The winter was fierce

Spring is rainy

It would have been a long time to sow,

And there is water in the fields!

Have mercy, Lord!

Let's go cool rainbow

To our heavens!

(Taking off his hat, the shepherd is baptized,

And listeners too.)

Our villages are poor

And in them the peasants are sick

Yes, women are sad women,

Nurses, drinkers,

Slaves, worshipers

And eternal workers

Lord give them strength!

With such labors a penny

It's hard to live!

It happens to the sick

You will come: not dying,

The peasant family is terrible

The hour she has to

To lose the breadwinner!

Parting with the deceased

And support the rest

Trying to the best of your ability

The spirit is cheerful! And here to you

The old woman, the mother of the deceased,

Lo and behold, stretches with bony,

Calloused hand.

The soul will turn over

How they ring in this little hand

Two copper dimes!

Of course, the matter is clean -

For demanding retribution,

Not to take - there is nothing to live with.

Yes word of comfort

Freeze on the tongue

And as if offended

Go home ... Amen ...

Finished speech - and gelding

Pop whipped lightly.

The peasants parted,

They bowed low.

The horse walked slowly.

And six comrades,

As if they conspired

They attacked with reproaches

With selected big swearing

On poor Luca:

- What, took it? stubborn head!

Village club!

There he gets into a dispute! -

"Bell nobles -

The priests live like a prince.

Go under the sky the most

Popov's rooms,

The priest's patrimony is buzzing -

The bells are loud -

For the whole world of God.

For three years I, little robots,

He lived with the priest in the workers,

Raspberries are not life!

Popova porridge - with butter.

Popov pie - stuffed

Popov cabbage soup - with smelt!

Popov's wife is fat

Popova is a white daughter,

Popova's horse is fat,

The priest's bee is full,

How the bell rings! "

Page 4 of 11

here's your vaunted

Popov's life!

Why was he screaming, swaggering?

Climbing into a fight, anathema?

Wasn't that what I thought to take,

What a shovel beard?

So with a beard goat

Walked around the world earlier

Than the forefather Adam,

A fool is considered

And now the goat! ..

Luka stood silent,

I was afraid they would not impose

Comrades in the sides.

It has become so,

Yes, to the happiness of the peasant

The road is lowered -

Priest's face is stern

It appeared on a hillock ...

CHAPTER II. RURAL FAIR

No wonder our wanderers

Scolded wet

Cold spring.

The peasant needs spring

And early and friendly,

And here - even like a wolf howl!

The sun does not warm the earth,

And the clouds are rainy

Like milking cows

They walk through the heavens.

Driven away the snow, and the greenery

No grass, no leaf!

The water is not removed

The earth does not dress

Green bright velvet

And, like a dead man without a shroud,

Lies under a cloudy sky

Sad and naked.

Sorry for the poor peasant

And more pity the little animal;

Having fed meager reserves,

Master of twigs

I drove her into the meadows,

And what to take there? Blacky!

Only on Nikolay Veshniy

The weather has settled down

Green fresh grass

The cattle ate.

The day is hot. Under the birches

The peasants make their way

They gutt among themselves:

“We go to one village,

Let's go another - empty!

And today is a festive day,

Where did the people go? .. "

They go by the village - on the street

Some guys are small

In the houses - old women,

Or even completely locked

Lock gates.

The lock is a faithful dog:

Doesn't bark, doesn't bite,

But he does not let him into the house!

We passed the village and saw

Mirror in green frame:

A full pond with the edges.

Swallows fly over the pond;

Some kind of mosquitoes

Agile and skinny

Jumping like dry

Walk on the water.

Along the banks, in the broom,

Crake creaks.

On a long, wobbly raft

Tolstoy with a roll

It stands like a plucked haystack,

Tucking in the hem.

On the same raft

A duck is sleeping with ducklings ...

Chu! horse snoring!

The peasants looked at once

And they saw above the water

Two heads: peasant.

Curly and swarthy,

With an earring (the sun was blinking

On that white earring)

Another - horse

With a rope of five fathoms.

A man takes a rope in his mouth

A man swims - and a horse swims,

The peasant neighed - and the horse neighed.

They are floating, shouting! Under the woman,

Under the little ducklings

The raft is walking.

I caught up with the horse - grab the withers!

I jumped up and rode out to the meadow

Child: the body is white,

And the neck is like resin;

The water is rolling in streams

From horse and rider.

"What do you have in the village

Neither old nor small

How did all the people die out? "

- We went to the village of Kuzminskoe,

Today there is a fair

And a temple holiday. -

"How far is Kuzminskoye?"

- Let it be three versts.

“Let's go to the village of Kuzminskoe,

Let's see the holiday-fair! " -

The men decided

And they thought to themselves:

“Isn't he hiding there,

Who lives happily? .. "

Kuzminskoye rich,

And what's more - dirty

Trade village.

Stretches along the slope,

Then it descends into the ravine.

And there again on the hill -

How can there be no dirt here?

Two churches in it are old,

One Old Believer,

Another Orthodox,

House with the inscription: school,

Empty, packed tightly

Hut in one window,

With the image of a paramedic,

Bleeding.

There is a dirty hotel

Decorated with a sign

(With a big nosed teapot

The tray is in the hands of the carrier

And in small cups

Like a goose with goslings,

That teapot is surrounded)

There are permanent shops

Like a county

Gostiny Dvor ...

The wanderers came to the square:

There are a lot of things for the goods

And seemingly invisibly

To the people! Isn't it fun?

It seems that there is no godfather's move,

And, as if in front of icons,

Men without hats.

Such a side!

Look where they go

Peasant slimes:

In addition to the wine warehouse,

Taverns, restaurants,

A dozen damask shops,

Three inns,

Yes "Renskoy cellar",

Yes, a couple of taverns.

Eleven tavern

For the holiday they put

Tents in the countryside.

Each has five trays;

Carriers are thugs

Well-planned, well-cut,

And they can't keep up with everything,

You can't handle the change!

Look what? stretched out

Peasant hands with hats,

With scarves, with mittens.

Oh, Orthodox thirst,

Where are you great!

Just to douse my darling

And there they will get hats,

How the bazaar will go.

By drunken heads

The spring sun is playing ...

Intoxicating, loudly, festively,

Motley, red all around!

The boys are wearing plisovy pants,

Striped vests,

Shirts of all colors;

The women are wearing red dresses

The girls have braids with ribbons,

They float with winches!

And there are also entertainers,

Dressed like a capital -

And expands and sulks

Hoop hem!

If you come in, they will get dressed up!

At ease, newfangled women,

Fishing tackle for you

Wear it under skirts!

The smart-looking women,

Old Believers are feisty

Tovarke says:

“Be hungry! be hungry!

Marvel at how the seedlings got wet

That the flood is more spring

Worth up to Petrov!

Ever since the women started

Dress up in red calico, -

Forests do not rise

And at least not this bread! "

- What are the red calicoes?

Are you guilty here, mother?

I can't imagine! -

“And those French calicoes -

Painted with dog's blood!

Well ... do you understand now? .. "

They knocked on the horse,

Along the hills where they piled

Roe deer, rake, harrows,

Baghry, trolley machines,

Rims, axes.

There was a brisk trade,

With God, with jokes,

With a healthy, loud laugh.

And how not to laugh?

Some tiny guy

I walked, tried the rims:

I bent one - I don't like it

He bent the other, pushed.

And the rim will straighten out -

Click on the man's forehead!

The man roars over the rim

"With an elm club"

Scolds the brawler.

Another came with different

Wooden craft -

And dumped the whole cart!

Drunk! The axle broke

And he began to beat her -

Broke the ax! Thoughtful

A man over an ax

Scolds him, scolds him,

As if the thing does:

“You scoundrel, not an ax!

Empty service, spit

And that did not serve.

All your life you bowed

And I have never been affectionate! "

The wanderers went to the shops:

Admire handkerchiefs

Ivanovo calico,

With shleys, new shoes,

We will make kimryaks.

At that shoe shop

The wanderers laugh again:

There are gantry shoes

Grandfather traded to his granddaughter,

Five times about the price

Page 5 of 11

asked

Twisted in his hands, looked around:

The product is of the first grade!

“Well, uncle! two two-corner

Pay, or get lost! " -

The merchant told him.

- Wait a minute! - Admires

Old man with a tiny boot,

Such is the speech:

- My son-in-law does not care, and my daughter will be silent,

And I'm sorry for my granddaughter! Hanged herself

On the neck, fidget:

“Buy a present, grandfather.

Buy it! " - Silk head

The face tickles, flippers,

Kisses the old man.

Wait, barefoot creepers!

Wait, whirligig! Gantry

Buy boots ...

Vavilushka boasted,

Both old and small

He promised gifts

And he drank himself to a penny!

As my eyes are shameless

Will I show you home? ..

My son-in-law does not care, and my daughter will be silent,

Wife - spit, let her grumble!

And I'm sorry for my granddaughter! .. - Went again

About the granddaughter! Kills! ..

The people gathered, listen,

Do not laugh, feel sorry for;

Happen, work, bread

They would help him

And take out two two-cents -

So you yourself will be left with nothing.

Yes, there was a man here

Pavlusha Veretennikov

(What kind, title,

The peasants did not know

However, they called him "master".

He was pretty good at balding,

Wore a red shirt

Cloth undergarment,

Grease boots;

Sang fluently Russian songs

And he loved to listen to them.

Many have seen him

In the inns

In taverns, in taverns.)

So he helped Vavila out -

I bought him shoes.

Vavilo grabbed them

And he was like that! - For joy

Thanks even to the master

Forgot to tell the old man

But other peasants

So they were comforted,

So happy, as if everyone

He gave it in rubles!

There was also a shop here

With pictures and books

Ofeni stocked up

With your merchandise in it.

"Do you need generals?" -

The scorch merchant asked them.

“And give me generals!

Yes, only you are conscientious

So that they are real -

Thicker, more threatening. "

“Wonderful! how do you look! -

The merchant said with a grin, -

It's not about the build ... "

- And in what? kidding me, friend!

Rubbish, or what, it is desirable to sell?

Where are we going with her?

You are naughty! Before the peasant

All generals are equal

Like cones on spruce:

To sell the shabby one

You need to get to the dock,

And the fat and the terrible

I'll foist on everyone ...

Come on big, dignified,

Chest uphill, bulging eyes,

Yes, to more stars!

"Would you like civilians?"

- Well, here's more with the civil servants! -

(However, they took it - cheap! -

Of some dignitary

For belly with a barrel of wine

And seventeen stars.)

Merchant - with all due respect,

What he likes he treats

(From Lubyanka - the first thief!) -

Lowered a hundred Blucher,

Archimandrite Photius,

Rogue Sipko,

Sold books: "Jester Balakirev"

And "English my lord" ...

We put little books in a box,

Let's go for a walk portraits

For the kingdom of all Russia,

Until they settle down

In a peasant summer house,

On a low wall ...

The devil knows what for!

Eh! eh! will the time come

When (come, desired! ..)

They will make it clear to the peasant

What a portrait of a portrait,

What is the book of the book?

When a man is not Blucher

And not my foolish lord -

Belinsky and Gogol

Will they carry it from the bazaar?

Oh people, Russian people!

Orthodox peasants!

Have you ever heard

Are you those names?

Those are great names

Wore them, glorified them

People's defenders!

Here you have their portraits

Hang in your chambers,

“And I would be glad to heaven, but the door

This kind of speech breaks in

To the shop unexpectedly.

- Which door do you want? -

“Yes to the booth. Chu! music!.."

- Come on, I'll show you! -

Having heard about the booth,

Let's go our pilgrims too

Listen, take a look.

A comedy with Petrushka,

With a goat with a drummer

And not with a simple organ,

And with real music

They looked here.

Comedy is not wise

However, not stupid either,

Lost, quarterly

Not in the eyebrow, but right in the eye!

The hut is full, half-hearted.

The people are cracking nuts

And then two or three peasants

They will spread a word -

Look, vodka has appeared:

They'll see and drink!

They laugh, they are comforted

And often in speech to Petrushkin

Insert a well-aimed word,

What you can't imagine

Swallow the feather at least!

There are such lovers -

How the comedy ends

They will go behind the screens,

They kiss, fraternize,

Rumble with the musicians:

"Where, well done?"

- And we were master,

They played the landlord.

Now we are free people

Who will bring it up, sweat it,

That is our master!

“And business, dear friends,

Quite a bar you amused,

Amuse the men!

Hey! small! sweet vodka!

Liqueurs! tea! half beer!

Tsimlyansky - live! .. "

And the sea is poured

Will go, more generous than the lord

The children will be treated.

Winds do not blow violent

Mother earth does not sway -

Noises, sings, swears,

Swinging, lying around

Fights and kisses

People have a holiday!

He showed the peasants

How we went out on a hillock,

That the whole village is reeling

That even the church is old

From the high bell tower

It staggered once or twice! -

Here sober, that naked,

Awkward ... Our pilgrims

Walked across the square

And by the evening they left

A turbulent village ...

CHAPTER III. DRUNK NIGHT

Not a barn, not a barn,

Not a tavern, not a mill,

How often in Russia,

The village ended low

Log structure

With iron bars

Small windows.

Behind that landmark building

Wide path

Lined with birches

It opened right there.

On weekdays, uncrowded,

Sad and quiet

She's not the same now!

All along that path

And along the roundabout paths,

As far as the eye could see,

Crawling, lying, driving.

Drunk

And the groan was moaning!

Heavy carts hide,

And like calf heads

Swing, swing

Victory heads

Sleepy men!

The people walk and fall

As if because of the rollers

Enemies with grapes

They're shooting at the men!

Silent night descends

Already went into the dark sky

Moon, already

Page 6 of 11

writes a letter

Lord of red gold

On blue velvet

That tricky letter,

Which is not reasonable,

Buzzing! That the sea is blue

Falls silent, rises

Popular rumor.

“And we are fifty dollars to the clerk:

The request was made

To the head of the province ... "

"Hey! the sack fell from the cart! "

“Where are you going, Olenushka?

Wait! I'll also give you a gingerbread,

You, like a flea, are nimble

I ate enough and jumped.

I couldn't stroke it! "

"Good you, royal letter,

Yes, you are not writing about us ... "

"Move aside, people!"

(Excise officials

With bells, with badges

They swept from the bazaar.)

“And I mean now:

And a broom rubbish, Ivan Ilyich,

And walks on the floor

Where will it spray! "

“God forbid, Parashenka,

Don't go to St. Petersburg!

There are such officials

You are their cook day,

And their night is maddening -

So it doesn't give a damn! "

"Where are you going, Savvushka?"

(The priest shouts to the Sotsky

On horseback, with a government plate.)

- I ride to Kuzminskoye

Behind the Stanov. Occasion:

There in front of the peasant

They killed ... - "Eh! .. sins! .."

"How thin you have become, Daryushka!"

- Not a spindle, friend!

This is what turns more,

It becomes more belly

And I'm like a day-to-day ...

“Hey guy, silly guy,

Ragged, lousy,

Hey, love me!

Me, simple-haired,

A drunken woman, old,

Zaaa-paaaa-chinky! .. "

Our peasants are sober,

Looking, listening

They go their own way.

In the middle of the path

Some guy is quiet

I dug a large hole.

"What are you doing here?"

- And I bury my mother! -

"Fool! what a mother!

Look: new coat

You buried it in the ground!

Go quickly yes grunt

Lay down in the ditch, drink some water!

Perhaps the nonsense will jump off! "

"Come on, let's stretch!"

Two peasants sit down,

Resting on their feet

And they live, and they push,

Groaning - stretching on a rolling pin,

The joints are cracking!

I didn't like it on the rolling pin:

"Let's try now

Stretch your beard! "

When the beard is tidy

They diminished each other,

They clung to the cheekbones!

They puff, blush, writhe,

They moo, squeal, and stretch!

“Let it be for you, damned!

You won't spill it with water! "

Women quarrel in the ditch

One shouts: "Go home

More sickening than hard labor! "

Another: - You're lying, in my house

Worse than yours!

My elder son-in-law broke my rib,

The middle son-in-law stole a ball,

A ball of spit, but the point is -

The fifty-kopeck piece was wrapped in it,

And the younger son-in-law takes all the knife,

Look, he will kill him, he will kill him! ..

“Well, full, full, dear!

Well, don't be angry! - behind the roller

You can hear it nearby. -

I'm nothing ... let's go! "

Such a disastrous night!

Whether to the right or to the left

You will see from the road:

Couples are walking together

Are they going to that grove?

Nightingales sing ...

The road is crowded

What later is uglier:

More and more often come across

Beaten, crawling

Lying in a layer.

Without swearing, as usual,

A word will not be spoken

Crazy, obscene,

She is the most audible!

The taverns are in turmoil

The carts are messed up

Scared horses

They run without riders;

Small children cry here.

Wives, mothers grieve:

Is it easy from a drinking

Call men? ..

Our pilgrims are coming

And they see: Veretennikov

(What are the gantry shoes

I gave it to Vavila)

Conversations with peasants.

The peasants open up

Milyage likes:

Pavel will praise the song -

They will sing five times, write it down!

Like the proverb -

Write the proverb!

Having written enough

Veretennikov told them:

“Russian peasants are smart,

One thing is not good

What they drink to the point of stupor

They fall into ditches, into ditches -

It's a shame to look! "

The peasants listened to that speech,

They cheered on the master.

Pavlusha something in the little book

I wanted to write already.

Yes, drunk came out

Man - he is against the master

I lay on my stomach

I looked into his eyes,

I kept silent - but suddenly

How to jump up! Straight to the master -

Grab the pencil from your hands!

- Wait, empty head!

Crazy news, shameless

Don't talk about us!

What are you jealous of!

That the poor is having fun

Peasant soul?

We drink a lot in time

And the more we work.

You see a lot of us drunk

And more of us sober.

Have you been in the villages?

Let's take a bucket of vodka

Let's go to the huts:

In one, in the other they will pile up,

And in the third they will not touch -

Our family is drinking

Non-drinking family!

They do not drink, and also toil,

It would be better if they drank, stupid ones,

Yes, the conscience is ...

It's wonderful to watch as it tumble

In such a sober hut

Peasant trouble, -

And I would not look! .. I saw

Are the Russian villages in pain?

In a drinking-house, eh, people?

We have vast fields,

And not much generous

Tell me, by whose hand

From spring they will dress

Will they undress in the fall?

Have you met a man

After work in the evening?

Reap a good mountain

I put it down, ate it from a pea:

"Hey! hero! straw

I'll knock you down, step aside! "

Peasant food is sweet,

The iron saw the whole century

Chews, but does not eat!

Yes, the belly is not a mirror,

We don't cry for food ...

You work alone

And as soon as the work is over,

Look, there are three equity holders:

God, king and lord!

And there is also a destructive thief

Fourth, angrier than the Tatar,

So he will not share,

One will eat everything!

We have stuck on the third day

The same poor gentleman,

Like you, from near Moscow.

Writes songs

Tell him a proverb

Zagani riddle.

And there was another - prying,

How much a day will you work

By little, little by little

Do you shove the pieces into your mouth?

Measures a different land,

Different in the village of inhabitants

Reread it on the fingers

But they did not count,

Since in the summer everyone

The fire blows the wind

Peasant labor? ..

There is no measure for Russian hops.

Have we measured our grief?

Is there a measure of work?

Wine pours down the peasant

Doesn't grief bring him down?

Doesn't work bring down?

A man does not measure trouble,

Cope with everything,

Whatever you come.

A man, working, does not think

That will tear strength.

So recklessly over the charka

Think about what is superfluous

Will you get into a ditch?

Why should you be ashamed to look,

Like drunks lying around

So look, come on

As from a swamp by dragging

The peasants have wet hay,

Having mowed, they drag:

Where horses can't get through

Where and without burden on foot

It's dangerous to cross

There is a horde of peasants

By koch, by zagorin

Crawling crawling with whips -

The peasant navel is bursting!

Under the sun without hats

In sweat, in mud up to the top of my head,

Cut with sedge,

Swamp reptile-midge

Eaten into the blood

Are we prettier here?

Pity - pity skillfully,

To the master's measure

Don't measure the peasant!

Not gentle white-handed

And we are great people

At work and in fun! ..

Every peasant

Soul that black cloud -

Angry, formidable - and it should be

Thunders thunder from there,

To pour bloody rains

And everything ends with wine.

A glass went through the veins -

And she laughed good

Peasant soul!

It is necessary not to grieve here,

Look around - rejoice!

Ay guys, ay

Page 7 of 11

youngsters,

They know how to take a walk!

They threw up the bones

They drained my darling

And valiant prowess

We saved about the case! ..

A man stood on a roller

Stomped with noodles

And, after a moment's silence,

Admiring the cheerful,

Roaring crowd:

- Hey! you are a peasant kingdom,

Capless, drunk

Make noise - make noise more freely! .. -

"What is your name, old lady?"

- And what? will you write it down in a little book?

Perhaps there is no need!

Write: “In the village of Basov

Yakim Nagoy lives

He works to death

Drinks half to death! .. "

The peasants laughed

And they told the master,

What is the man Yakim.

Yakim, a wretched old man,

Once lived in St. Petersburg,

Yes, I ended up in jail:

With the merchant it took it into his head to compete!

Peeled off like a sticky piece,

He returned to his homeland

And he took up the plow.

Since then, thirty years have been fried

On a strip in the sun

Escapes under the harrow

From frequent rain

Lives - fiddles with a plow,

And death will come to Yakimushka -

As a clod of earth falls off,

That the plow is dry ...

There was a case with him: a picture

He bought his son,

I hung them on the walls

And he himself is no less than a boy

He loved to look at them.

God's displeasure has come,

The village is on fire -

And Yakimushka had

For a whole century, accumulated

Thirty-five rubles.

Hurry to take rubles,

And he first pictures

Began to tear from the wall;

Meanwhile his wife

I fiddled with icons

And then the hut collapsed -

So Yakim blundered!

The rubbers merged into a lump,

For that lump they give him

Eleven rubles ...

“Oh brother Yakim! not cheap

The pictures are okay!

But in a new hut

I suppose you hung them? "

- Hung - there are new ones, -

Yakim said - and fell silent.

The master looked at the plowman:

The chest is sunken; how depressed

Stomach; at the eyes, at the mouth

Bends like cracks

On dry ground;

And myself to mother earth

It looks like: the neck is brown,

Like a layer cut off with a plow,

Brick face

The hand is tree bark,

And the hair is sand.

The peasants, as they noticed,

That they are not offended by the master

Yakim's words

And they themselves agreed

With Yakim: - The word is true:

It befits us to drink!

We drink - it means we feel the strength!

Great sorrow will come

How can we stop drinking! ..

The work would not fail

The trouble would not prevail

Hops won't beat us!

Is not it?

"Yes, God is merciful!"

- Well, have a glass with us!

We got some vodka and drank it.

Yakima Veretennikov

I raised two scales.

- Ay sir! not angry

Reasonable little head!

(Yakim told him.)

Reasonable little head

How not to understand the peasant?

Do pigs walk around? zemi -

They do not see the sky for centuries! ..

Suddenly the song burst out in unison

Removing consonant:

A dozen threesomes,

Khmelninki, and do not fall,

They walk in a row, sing,

They sing about Mother Volga,

About brave prowess,

About girlish beauty.

The whole path has quieted down,

That one song is foldable

Rolls wide, freely,

Like rye spreads in the wind,

According to the heart of the peasant

Goes with longing fire! ..

To the song that daring

Lost in thought, burst into tears

Young one:

“My century is like a day without a sun,

My century is like a night without a month

And I, mlada-young,

That a greyhound horse on a leash

What a swallow without wings!

My old husband, jealous husband,

Drunk drunk, snoring snoring,

Me, young, young,

And sleepy guards! "

So the young woman cried

Yes, she suddenly jumped off the cart!

"Where?" - shouts a jealous husband,

Got up - and a woman by the scythe,

Like a radish for a whip!

Ouch! night, drunk night!

Not bright, but starry,

Not hot, but tender

Spring breeze!

And to our good fellows

You weren't wasted!

They felt sad for their little wives,

It is true: with the little wife

Now it would be more fun!

Ivan shouts: "I want to sleep",

And Maryushka: - And I'm with you! -

Ivan shouts: "The bed is narrow",

And Maryushka: - Let's settle down! -

Ivan shouts: "Oh, it's cold",

And Maryushka: - Let's get dark! -

How did they remember that song

Without a word - agreed

Try your casket.

One why God knows

Between the field and the road

A thick linden tree has grown.

Wanderers sat down under it

And they said carefully:

"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth,

Treat the peasants! "

And the tablecloth unfolded

From where it came from

Two hefty hands:

They put a bucket of wine,

A mountain of bread was laid

And they hid again.

The peasants were reinforced.

Roman for the sentry

Stayed by the bucket

And the others intervened

Into the crowd - look for the happy one:

They wanted to

Hurry to get home ...

CHAPTER IV. HAPPY

In a loud, festive crowd

Wanderers walked

They cried out the cry:

"Hey! is there no happy one?

Show up! If it turns out

That you live happily

We have a bucket ready:

Drink for free as much as you like -

We will treat you to glory! .. "

To such unheard-of speeches

Sober people laughed,

And drunk and smart

Almost spat in the beard

Zealous screamers.

However, hunters

Take a sip of free wine

Enough was found.

When the strangers returned

Under the linden, calling out a cry,

The people surrounded them.

The fired deacon came

Skinny as a sulfur match,

And he dismissed the fringes,

That happiness is not in pastures,

Not in sables, not in gold,

Not in expensive stones.

"And in what?"

- In good humor!

There are limits to possessions

Lords, nobles, kings of the earth,

And the wise possession -

The whole helipad of Christ!

Kohl will warm the sun

Yes, I will miss a kosushchechka,

So I'm happy! -

"Where are you going to get a kosushechka?"

- Yes, you promised to give ...

“Get out! you are naughty! .. "

An old woman came,

Pockmarked, one-eyed,

And announced, bowing,

That she is happy:

What's her fall

Rap up to a thousand was born

On a small ridge.

- Such a turnip is large,

Such turnips are delicious

And the whole ridge is three fathoms,

And in front of it - an arshin! -

They laughed at the woman,

But they didn't give a drop of vodka:

“Have a drink at home, old one,

Have a snack with that turnip! "

A soldier came with medals,

Slightly alive, but I want to drink:

- I'm happy! - is talking.

“Well, open it up, old lady,

What is the happiness of a soldier?

Don't hide, look! "

- And that, first of all, is happiness,

That in twenty battles

I was, not killed!

And secondly, more importantly,

I and during a peaceful time

I walked neither full nor hungry,

But death was not given!

And thirdly - for offenses,

Great and small

I beat mercilessly with sticks,

And at least feel it - it's alive!

"On! have a drink, servant!

There is nothing to argue with you:

You are happy - there is no word! "

Came with a heavy hammer

Olonchanian stonemason,

Shouldered, young:

- And I live - I do not complain, -

He said, - with his wife, with mother

We do not know the need!

"But what is your happiness?"

- But look (and with a hammer,

He waved like a feather):

If I wake up to the sun

Yes, I'll speed up about midnight

So I will crush the mountain!

Happened, I do not boast,

To hammer up crushed stones

Five silver a day!

Groin raised "happiness"

And, grunting decently,

Brought to the worker:

“Well, weighty! will not

Carry about with this happiness

Is it hard in old age? .. "

- Look, do not brag about strength, -

Said the man with shortness of breath,

Relaxed, thin

(The nose is sharp, like a dead man's,

Like a skinny hand rake,

Like the spokes of a leg are long

Not a man - a mosquito). -

I was - no worse than a bricklayer

Yes, he also boasted of strength,

So God has punished!

Dreamed

Page 8 of 11

contractor, beast,

That the kid is simple

Taught me to praise

And I'm foolishly happy

I work for four!

Once I wear a kind

I laid the bricks.

And here it is, damned,

And apply the hard one:

"What is it? - is talking. -

I don’t recognize Tryphon!

Go with such a burden

Aren't you ashamed of the fellow? "

- And if it seems a little,

Add with your master's hand! -

I said, angry.

Well, for half an hour, I think

I waited, and he added,

And he planted it, you scoundrel!

I can hear it myself - the craving is terrible,

Yes, I did not want to back away.

And brought in that damn burden

I'm on the second floor!

The contractor looks, marvels,

Shouts, scoundrel, from there:

“Well done, Trofim!

You don't know what you did:

You took down one to the extreme

Fourteen poods! "

Oh, I know! heart hammer

Pounding on the chest, bloody

There are circles in the eyes

The back seemed to be cracked ...

Trembling, legs are loose.

Why have I since then! ..

Pour half a glass, brother!

“Pour? But where is happiness here?

We treat the happy

And what did you tell! "

- Listen! there will be happiness!

"Yes, in what, speak up!"

- And here's what. In my homeland

Like any peasant,

I wanted to die.

From Peter, relaxed,

Crazy, almost without memory,

I got into the car.

Well, here we go.

In the carriage - feverish

Hot workers

There are a lot of us,

I wished for one thing

How can I: get to my homeland,

To die at home.

However, you need happiness

And then: we drove in the summer,

In the heat, in the stuffy

Many have got confused

Completely sick heads

In the carriage, hell went:

He groans, he rolls,

Like a catechuver, across the floor,

He raves about his wife, mother.

Well, at the nearest station

And down with that!

I looked at my comrades,

He himself was on fire, he thought -

Not good for me too.

In the eyes of the circles are crimson,

And everything seems to me, brother,

That I cut the peuns!

(We are also hunters,

Happened to fatten up a year

Up to a thousand goiter.)

Where did you remember, damned!

I tried to pray

No! everyone will not go crazy!

Would you believe it? whole party

Trembling before me!

Larynx slit

Blood gushes, and they sing!

And I with a knife: "Yes, you are full!"

How the Lord had mercy,

That I didn't scream?

I sit, I'm strong ... luckily,

The day is over, and by evening

It got colder, - took pity

God is over the orphans!

Well, that's how we got there,

And I got home,

And here, by God's grace,

And it became easier for me ...

- What are you bragging about?

With your muzhik happiness? -

Screams broken to his feet

The yard man. -

And you treat me:

I'm happy, God knows!

At the first boyar,

At Prince Peremetyev,

I was a beloved slave.

The wife is a beloved slave,

And the daughter together with the young lady

She also studied French

And all kinds of languages

She was allowed to sit down

In the presence of the princess ...

Ouch! how it stung! .. priests! .. -

(And started the right leg

Rub your palms.)

The peasants laughed.

- Why are you laughing, stupid, -

Pissed off unexpectedly

The courtyard shouted. -

I'm sick, but should I tell you

What do I pray to the Lord,

Getting up and lying down?

I pray: "Leave me, Lord,

My honorable disease

According to her, I'm a nobleman! "

Not with your mean fondness,

Not hoarse, not a hernia -

A noble disease

What is there only

At the top officials in the empire,

I'm sick, man!

Yes, it’s called!

To get her -

Champagne, burgundy,

Tokay, Hungarian

Thirty years must be drunk ...

Behind the chair of the lord

At Prince Peremetyev

I stood for forty years

With the best French truffle

I licked the plates

Foreign drinks

I drank from the glasses ...

Well, pour it! -

“Get out!

We have peasant wine,

Simple, not overseas -

Not on your lips! "

Yellow-haired, hunched over,

Shyly crept up to the strangers

Belarusian peasant,

There also reaches for vodka:

- Pour me a manenich too,

I'm happy! - is talking.

“Don't bother with your hands!

Report, prove

First, what are you happy with? "

- And our happiness is in bread:

I'm at home in Belarus

With chaff, with a fire

Chewed barley bread;

Writhing like a woman in labor

How to grab the bellies.

And now, the mercy of God! -

Satisfied with Gubonin

They give rye bread

I chew - I don’t get rich! -

Came some kind of cloudy

A guy with a twisted cheekbone,

Everything looks to the right:

- I go after the bears.

And great happiness to me:

My three comrades

Broke the bears

And I live, God is merciful!

"Well, look to the left?"

I didn't look, no matter how I tried,

What scary faces

Neither the little peasant twisted:

- The bear rolled me

Manenichko cheekbone! -

"And you measure yourself with the other,

Give her your right cheek -

Correct ... "- Laughed,

However, they brought it up.

The ragged beggars

Hearing the smell of foam

And they came to prove

How happy they are:

- We are at the door of the shopkeeper

Meets with alms,

And we will enter the house, so from the house

Escorted to the gate ...

We will sing a little song

The hostess runs to the window

With a crumb, with a knife,

And we are filling in:

“Come on - the whole loaf,

Does not wrinkle or crumble

You hurry up, but hurry up to us ... "

Our pilgrims realized,

That they spent vodka for nothing,

By the way, and a little bucket

End. “Well, it will be with you!

Hey, muzhik happiness!

Leaky with patches

Humpbacked with calluses

Get out home! "

- And you, dear friends,

Ask Ermila Girin, -

He said, sitting down with the pilgrims,

Dymoglotova villages

Peasant Fedosey. -

If Yermil won't help out,

He won't be lucky

So there is nothing to stagger ...

“Who is Yermil?

Is it a prince, a splendid count? "

- Not a prince, not a splendid count,

But he's just a man!

“You speak more intelligently,

Sit down and we will listen

What is Yermil? "

- And here's what: an orphan

Yermilo kept the mill

At Unzha. By court

Decided to sell the mill:

Yermilo came with the others

To the ward for the auction.

Empty buyers

They quickly fell off.

One merchant Altynnikov

I entered the battle with Yermil,

Not lagging behind, bargaining,

Deals a pretty penny.

How angry Yermilo will be -

Grab five rubles at once!

The merchant is a pretty penny again,

They had a battle;

The merchant is his penny,

And that one with his ruble!

Altynnikov could not resist!

Yes, there was an opportunity here:

They immediately began to demand

The third part of the makings,

And the third part is up to a thousand.

There was no money with Yermil,

Has he done it himself,

Have the clerk cheated,

But it turned out to be rubbish!

Altynnikov cheered up:

"My, it turns out, the mill!"

"No! - says Yermil,

Goes up to the chairman. -

Couldn't your grace

Wait half an hour? "

- What will you do in half an hour?

"I'll bring the money!"

- Where will you find it? Are you in your mind?

Thirty-five versts to the mill,

And after an hour the presence

The end, my dear!

"So, half an hour, excuse me?"

- Perhaps we will hesitate for an hour! -

Yermil went; clerk

We exchanged glances with the merchant,

Laugh, scoundrels!

To the square to the trade

Yermilo came (in the city

That day was a bazaar),

I stood on a cart, we see: he is baptized,

On all four sides

Shouts: “Hey, good people!

Be quiet, listen

I'll tell you the word! "

The crowded square has quieted down,

And then Yermil about the mill

He told the people:

"For a long time the merchant Altynnikov

Tied to the mill

Yes, I didn’t do it either,

I spent five times in the city,

Said: with

Page 9 of 11

overbidding

Bidding is scheduled.

Idle, you know

Carry the treasury to the peasant

A country road is not a hand:

I arrived without a penny

Lo and behold - they have spoken

No rebidding bargaining!

The vile souls have cheated,

Yes, and the infidels laugh:

“What, in an hour, can you do?

Where will you find the money? "

Perhaps I will find, God is merciful!

Cunning, strong clerk,

And the world is stronger than theirs,

The merchant Altynnikov is rich,

And all will not resist him

Against the worldly treasury -

Her, like a fish from the sea,

To catch a century is not to catch.

Well, brothers! God sees

I'll get it off that Friday!

The mill is not dear to me,

The offense is great!

If you know Yermila,

If you believe Yermila,

So help out, eh! .. "

And a miracle happened:

Throughout the marketplace

Every peasant

Like the wind, half left

Suddenly spun!

The peasantry forked out

Yermila is carrying money,

They give who is rich in what.

Ermilo is a literate guy,

Put on a full hat

Tselkovikov, lobanchikov,

Burnt, bat, battered

Peasant bank notes.

Yermilo took - did not disdain

And a copper nickel.

Still he would have disdained

When did I come across

Other copper hryvnia

More expensive than a hundred rubles!

Already the whole amount has been fulfilled,

And the generosity of the people

She grew: - Take it, Ermil Ilyich,

Give it back, it won't be lost! -

Yermil bowed to the people

On all four sides

I walked into the ward with a hat,

Clutching the treasury in it.

The clerk was amazed,

Altynnikov turned green,

How he is full of the whole thousand

I put them on the table! ..

Not a wolf's tooth, so a fox's tail, -

Let's go play the clerk,

Congratulations on your purchase!

Yes, Yermil Ilyich is not like that,

I didn’t say too much.

I didn't give them a penny!

The whole city came to look,

Like a market day, Friday,

After a week of time

Yermil in the same square

The people were counting on.

Where is everyone to be remembered?

At that time, the work was done

In a fever, in a hurry!

However, there was no controversy,

And give out an extra penny

Yermil didn't have to.

Also - he himself told -

An extra ruble, whose God knows!

Stayed with him.

All day long open

Yermil walked around, asked:

Whose ruble? yes I did not find it.

Already the sun has set

When from the marketplace

Yermil was the last to move,

Having given that ruble to the blind ...

So that's what Yermil Ilyich is like. -

“Wonderful! - said the pilgrims. -

However, it is advisable to know -

What kind of witchcraft

A man over the whole neighborhood

Did you take such power? "

- Not by witchcraft, but by truth.

Have you heard about Hellschina,

Yurlov prince fiefdom?

"You heard, well, so what?"

- It has the main manager

There was a gendarme corps

Colonel with a star

He has five or six assistants,

And our Yermilo is a clerk

I was in the office.

About twenty years old,

What will the scribe have?

However, for the peasant

And the clerk is a man.

You approach him first,

And he will advise

And he will bring you help;

Where there is enough strength - it will help out,

Will not ask for gratitude

And if you give it, it won't take it!

A thin conscience is needed -

To the peasant from the peasant

To extort a penny.

In this way, the whole fiefdom

At the age of five Yermilu Girin

I learned well

And then they kicked him out ...

They felt sorry for Girin,

It was difficult for the new,

Grabber, get used to,

However, there is nothing to do

Time adjusted

And to the new scribe.

He's not a line without a thrasher,

Not a word without a seven-ball,

Burnt, from the couturiers -

God told him too!

However, by the will of God,

He did not reign for long, -

The old prince passed away,

The prince arrived young,

I drove that colonel away.

Chased away his assistant,

I drove the whole office,

And he told us from the fiefdom

To pick up the steward.

Well, we didn't think long

Six thousand souls, with the whole fiefdom

We shout: - Ermila Girin! -

As a man is one!

They call Yermila to see the master.

After talking with the peasant,

From the balcony, the prince shouts:

“Well, brothers! be your way.

With my princely seal

Your choice is approved:

The man is agile, competent,

I will say one thing: not young? .. "

And we: - There is no need, father,

And young and smart! -

Ermilo went to reign

Over the entire prince's patrimony,

And he reigned!

At seven years old worldly penny

I didn’t pinch it under my fingernail,

At seven years old, he did not touch the right one,

He did not let the guilty man.

I didn't twist my soul ...

“Stop! - shouted reproachfully

Some gray priest

The storyteller. - You sin!

The harrow went straight,

Yes, she suddenly waved to the side -

A tooth hit the stone!

If he undertook to tell

So don't throw out the words

From a song: or to wanderers

Are you telling a fairy tale? ..

I knew Yermila Girin ... "

- I suppose I didn't know?

We were one of the estates,

The same volost,

Yes, we were transferred ...

"And if you knew Girin,

So knew brother Mitri,

Think about it, buddy. "

The narrator became thoughtful

And after a pause, he said:

- I lied: the word is superfluous

Failed on the fly!

There was a case, and Ermil the man

Crazy: from recruitment

Little brother Mithrius

He fended off.

We are silent: there is nothing to argue,

The master of the elder's brother himself

I wouldn’t tell you to zabrit,

One Nenila Vlasyeva

Crying bitterly for his son,

Shouts: not our turn!

It is known to have screamed

Yes, with that, and drove off.

So what is it? Yermil himself,

Having finished with the recruitment,

I began to yearn, to grieve,

Doesn't drink, doesn't eat: that's the end,

What's in the stall with a rope

His father found him.

Here the son repented to his father:

“Since the son of Vlasyevna

I put it out of line

The white light hates me! "

And he himself reaches for the rope.

Tried to persuade

His father and brother,

He is all one: “I am a criminal!

The villain! tie my hands

Lead me to court! "

So that it does not happen worse,

Father tied the heart

He posted a guard.

The world has come together, makes a noise, makes a noise,

Such a wonderful thing

Never came

Neither see nor decide.

Ermilov family

They tried not about that,

So that we give them peace,

And judge more strictly -

Give the boy back to Vlasyevna,

Otherwise Yermil will hang himself,

You can't see him!

Yermil Ilyich himself came,

Barefoot, thin, with pads,

With a rope in my arms

Came and said: “It was time

I judged you by conscience,

Now I myself am more sinful than you:

You judge me! "

And bowed at our feet.

Neither give nor take the holy fool,

Stands, sighs, crosses himself,

It was a pity for us to see

As he is before the old woman,

Before Nenila Vlasyeva,

Suddenly I fell to my knees!

Well, the affair was all over,

The lord of the strong

The hand is everywhere; son of Vlasyevna

Returned, surrendered Mitriya,

Yes, they say, and Mitria

It's not hard to serve

The prince himself takes care of him.

And for the offense from Girin

We put a fine:

Penalty money for the recruit,

A small part of Vlasyevna,

Part of the world for wine ...

However, after that

Yermil did not manage soon,

For a year like a crazy walk.

No matter how the patrimony asked,

I quit my job

I rented that mill

And he became even worse than before

All people love:

He took for the grinding according to his conscience.

Did not detain the people,

Clerk, manager,

Wealthy landlords

And the men are the poorest -

All queues obeyed

The order was strict!

I myself am already in that province

Haven't been in a long time

And I heard about Yermila,

The people do not brag about them,

You go to him.

- In vain you pass, -

Said already once arguing

Gray-haired pop. -

I knew Ermila, Girin,

I got to that province

Five years ago

(I've traveled a lot in my life,

Our Right Reverend

Translate priests

He loved) ... With Ermila Girin

We were neighbors.

Yes! was the only man!

He had everything he needed

For happiness: and calmness,

And money and honor,

Enviable honor, true,

Not bought nor

Page 10 of 11

money,

Nor by fear: by strict truth,

With intelligence and kindness!

Yes, only, I repeat to you,

In vain you pass,

He sits in prison ...

"How so?"

- And the will of God!

Has any of you heard

How the fiefdom rebelled

Landowner Obrubkov,

Frightened province

Uyezd Nedykhaniev,

Village Tetanus? ..

How to write about fires

In the newspapers (I read them):

"Remained unknown

Reason "- and here:

Until now, unknown

Not the zemstvo police chief,

Not to the highest government

Not to tetanus themselves,

Where did the opportunity come from?

But it turned out to be rubbish.

It took an army.

The Emperor himself was sent

I spoke to the people,

Then he will try to swear

And shoulders with epaulets

Will rise high

Then he will try it with affection

And the chest with the royal crosses

In all four directions

Will start to turn.

Yes, swearing was superfluous here,

And the weasel is incomprehensible:

“The Orthodox peasantry!

Mother Russia! tsar-father! "

And nothing more!

Beaten so enough

They wanted the soldiers

Command: Fell!

Yes to the volost clerk

A happy thought came here,

It is about Yermila Girin

He said to the chief:

- The people will believe Girin,

The people will listen to him ... -

"Call him live!"

…………………………….

Suddenly a cry: “Ay, ay! have mercy! "

Resounding unexpectedly

Broke the priest's speech

Everyone rushed to look:

At the road roller

The whip of a drunken footman -

Got caught stealing!

Where he is caught, here is his judgment:

There were about three dozen judges,

We decided to give on a vine,

And everyone gave a vine!

The footman jumped up and, spanking

Thin boots

Without a word, he gave cravings.

“See, I ran like a disheveled one! -

Our pilgrims joked,

Recognizing it as a baluster,

That he was bragging about some

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Notes (edit)

A kosushka is an ancient measure of liquid, approximately 0.31 liters.

The cuckoo stops chuckling when the bread is hammered (“choking on an ear”, the people say).

Floodplain meadows - located in the floodplain of the river. When the river that flooded them during the flood fell, a layer of natural fertilizers remained on the soil, and therefore tall grasses rose here. Such meadows were especially prized.

This refers to the fact that until 1869 a seminary graduate could receive a parish only when he married the daughter of a priest who left his parish. It was believed that in this way the "purity of the estate" was maintained.

A parish is a union of believers.

The schismatics are opponents of the reforms of Patriarch Nikon (17th century).

Parishioners are regular visitors to the parish.

Mat - zd .: end. Checkmate is the end of the chess game.

Air - embroidered bedspreads made of velvet, brocade or silk, used in church rituals.

Itself - the first part of unchangeable complex adjectives with ordinal or quantitative numbers, with the meaning "so many times more." Bread itself is a friend - a crop twice as large as the amount of grain sown.

A steep rainbow - to the bucket; gently sloping - to the rain.

Pyatak is a 5 kopeck copper coin.

Treba - "the administration of a sacrament or sacred rite" (VI Dal).

Smelt is a cheap small fish, lake smelt.

Anathema is a church curse.

Fair - i.e. fair.

Nikola Veshniy is a religious holiday celebrated on May 9 according to the old style (May 22 according to the new style).

Religious procession - a solemn procession of believers with crosses, icons, banners.

Shlyk - "hat, hat, cap, cap" (VI Dal).

Kabak - "a drinking house, a place of sale of vodka, sometimes also beer and honey" (VI Dal).

A tent is a temporary place for trade, usually a light frame covered with canvas, later with a tarp.

French chintz are crimson calico, usually dyed using madder, paint from the roots of a herbaceous perennial plant.

Horse - part of the fair, which traded horses.

Roe deer is a type of heavy plow or light plow with one share, which rolls off the ground only in one direction. In Russia, roe deer were usually used in the northeastern regions.

Bogie machine - the main part of a four-wheeled cart, cart. It holds the body, wheels and axles.

The harness is a part of the harness that fits the sides and croup of a horse, usually leather.

Kimryaks are residents of the city of Kimry. At the time of Nekrasov, it was a large village, 55% of the inhabitants of which were shoemakers.

Ofenya is a peddler, “a petty huckster in delivery and delivery in small towns, villages, villages, with books, paper, silk, needles, cheese and sausage, with earrings and rings” (VI Dal).

Doka is a “master of his craft” (VI Dal).

Those. more orders.

Those. not military, but civilians (then - civilians).

A dignitary is a high-level official.

Lubyanka - street and square in Moscow, in the 19th century. center of wholesale trade of popular prints and books.

Blucher Gebhard Leberecht - Prussian general, commander-in-chief of the Prussian-Saxon army, which decided the outcome of the Battle of Waterloo and defeated Napoleon. Military successes made Blucher's name very popular in Russia.

Archimandrite Photius - in the world Peter Nikitich Spassky, a leader of the Russian Church in the 1920s. XIX century, was repeatedly made fun of in the epigrams of A.S. Pushkin, for example “Conversation of Photius with gr. Orlova "," On Photius ".

Rogue Sipko is an adventurer posing as different people, incl. for retired captain I.A. Sipko. In 1860, his trial attracted a lot of public attention.

"Jester Balakirev" is a popular collection of jokes: "Balakirev is a complete collection of jokes of the jester who was at the court of Peter the Great."

"The English Milord" - the most popular at that time essay by the writer of the 18th century Matvey Komarov "The Story of the Adventures of the English Milord George and his Brandenburg Mark-Countess Frederick Louise".

Goat - this is how an actor was called in the folk theater-booth, on whose head a goat's head made of burlap was fixed.

Drummer - drumming for performances attracted the audience.

Riga - a shed for drying sheaves and threshing (with a roof, but almost without walls).

A fifty-kopeck coin is a coin in denomination of 50 kopecks.

Tsar's letter is a tsar's letter.

Excise is a type of tax on consumer goods.

Sudarka is a mistress.

Sotsky - elected from the peasants, who performed police functions.

The spindle is a hand tool for yarn.

Thief - “a thief, a predator, a kidnapper” (VI Dal).

Kocha is a form of the word "hummock" in the Yaroslavl-Kostroma dialect.

Zazhorina - snowy water in a pit on the way.

Pletyukha - in northern dialects - a large tall basket.

Pazhiti - in the Tambov-Ryazan dialects - meadows, pastures; in Arkhangelsk - belongings,

Page 11 of 11

property.

Benevolence is a state of mind that is conducive to mercy, goodness, goodness.

The vertograd of Christ is a synonym for paradise.

Arshin is an old Russian measure of length equal to 0.71 m.

An Olon citizen is a resident of the Olonets province.

Peun is a rooster.

Peunyatnik - a person who feeds roosters for sale.

Truffle is a round-shaped mushroom growing underground. The French black truffle was especially appreciated.

Kostrika - lignified parts of the stems of flax, hemp, etc.

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N.A.Nekrasov worked on his poem for a long time - from the 1860s to the end of his life. During his lifetime, individual chapters of the work were published, but it was fully published only in 1920, when K.I. Chukovsky decided to release the complete collected works of the poet. In many ways, the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" is built on elements of Russian folk art, the language of the poem is close to that which was understood by the peasants of that time.

Main characters

Despite the fact that Nekrasov planned to illuminate the life of all classes in his poem, the main characters of "Who Lives Well in Russia" are still peasants. The poet paints their lives in gloomy colors, especially when he empathizes with women. The most striking images of the work are Yermila Girin, Yakim Nagoy, Savely, Matrena Timofeevna, Klim Lavin. At the same time, not only the world of the peasantry appears before the eyes of the reader, although the main emphasis is placed on it.

Often, schoolchildren receive as homework briefly describe the heroes of "Who Lives Well in Russia" and their characteristics. To get a good assessment, it is imperative to mention not only the peasants, but also the landowners. This is Prince Utyatin with his family, Obolt-Obolduev, a generous governor, a German manager. The work as a whole is characterized by the epic unity of all the acting heroes. However, along with this, the poet also presented many personalities, individualized images.

Ermila Girin

This hero "Who Lives Well in Russia", in the opinion of those who know him, is a happy person. The people around him appreciate him, and the landowner shows respect. Yermila is engaged in socially useful work - she maintains a mill. He works on it without deceiving ordinary peasants. Jirin is trusted by everyone. This is manifested, for example, in the situation of collecting money for an orphan's mill. Yermila finds herself in the city without money, and the mill is put up for sale. If he does not have time to return for the money, then it will go to Altynnikov - no one will be happy from this. Then Jirin decides to appeal to the people. And people unite in order to do a good deed. They believe that their money will go for good.

This hero "Who Lives Well in Russia" was a clerk and helped those who did not know it to learn to read and write. However, the pilgrims did not find Yermila happy, because he could not stand the most difficult test - power. Instead of his own brother, Jirin ends up in the soldiers. Yermila regrets what she had done. He can no longer be considered happy.

Yakim Nagoy

One of the main characters of "Who Lives Well in Russia" is Yakim Naga. He defines himself as follows - "he works to death, drinks half to death." The story of Naked is simple and at the same time very tragic. Once he lived in St. Petersburg, but ended up in prison and lost his estate. After that, he had to settle in the village and take up the exhausting work. In the work, he is entrusted with protecting the people themselves.

Human spiritual needs are ineradicable

During a fire, Yakim loses most acquired, since he is taken to save the pictures that he acquired for his son. However, in his new home, Nagoya takes over the old one, buys other pictures. Why does he decide to save these seemingly simple trinkets? A person tries to preserve what is most dear to him. And these pictures turn out to be more expensive for Yakim than the money earned by hellish labor.

The life of the heroes of "Who Lives Well in Russia" is an incessant work, the results of which fall into the wrong hands. But the human soul cannot be content with such an existence in which there is only room for endless hard labor. The spirit of the Naked requires something high, and these pictures, oddly enough, are a symbol of spirituality.

Endless adversity only strengthens it life position... In Chapter III, he delivers a monologue, in which he describes in detail his life - it is hard labor, the results of which are in the hands of three equity holders, disasters and hopeless poverty. And by these disasters he justifies his drunkenness. It was the only joy for the peasants, whose only occupation was hard work.

The place of a woman in the work of a poet

Women also occupy a significant place in Nekrasov's work. The poet considered their share to be the most difficult - after all, it was on the shoulders of Russian peasant women that the duty of raising children, preserving the hearth and love in the harsh Russian conditions fell. In the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" the heroes (more precisely, the heroines) bear the heaviest cross. Their images are described in most detail in the chapter entitled "Drunken Night". Here you can face the difficult fate of women working as servants in cities. The reader meets Daryushka, who has grown emaciated from overwork, women whose conditions in the house are worse than in hell - where the son-in-law constantly takes up a knife, "look, he will kill."

Matryona Korchagina

The culmination of the feminine theme in the poem is the part called "The Peasant Woman". Its main character is Matrena Timofeevna by the name of Korchagina, whose life is a generalization of the life of a Russian peasant woman. On the one hand, the poet demonstrates the gravity of her fate, but on the other, Matryona Korchagina's unbending will. The people consider her "happy", and the wanderers set off to see this "miracle" with their own eyes.

Matryona gives in to their persuasion and talks about her life. She considers her childhood the happiest time. After all, her family was caring, no one drank. But soon the moment came when it was necessary to get married. Here she seemed to be lucky - her husband loved Matryona. However, she becomes the youngest daughter-in-law, and she has to please everyone and everyone. She could not even count on a kind word.

Only with her grandfather Savely Matryona could open her soul, cry. But even the grandfather, although not of his own free will, but inflicted terrible pain on her - did not see for the child. After that, the judges accused Matryona of the murder of the baby.

Is the heroine happy?

The poet emphasizes the heroine's helplessness and with the words of Savely tells her to endure, because "we cannot find the truth." And these words become a description of Matryona's whole life, who had to endure losses, grief, and resentment from the landowners. Only once did she manage to "find the truth" - to "beg" her husband from the unfair soldiery from the landowner Elena Alexandrovna. Perhaps that is why they began to call Matryona "happy". And perhaps because she, unlike some other heroes "Who Lives Well in Russia", did not break down, despite any hardships. According to the poet, the woman's share is the most difficult. After all, she has to suffer from powerlessness in the family, and worry about the lives of loved ones, and do backbreaking work.

Grisha Dobrosklonov

This is one of the main characters of "Who Lives Well in Russia". He was born into the family of a poor clerk, who was also lazy. His mother was that image of a woman, which was described in detail in the chapter entitled "Peasant Woman". Grisha managed to understand his place in life at a young age. This was facilitated by hard work, hungry childhood, generous character, resilience and perseverance. Grisha became a fighter for the rights of all the humiliated, he stood for the interests of the peasants. In the first place he had not personal needs, but social values. The main features of the hero are unpretentiousness, high efficiency, compassion, education and a sharp mind.

Who can find happiness in Russia

Throughout the entire work, the poet tries to answer the question about the happiness of the heroes "Who lives well in Russia." Perhaps it is Grisha Dobrosklonov who is the happiest character. After all, when a person does a good deed, he has a pleasant feeling of his own worth. Here, the hero saves a whole people. From childhood, Grisha sees unhappy and oppressed people. Nekrasov considered the capacity for compassion to be the source of patriotism. For the poet, a person who sympathizes with the people, raises a revolution - this is Grisha Dobrosklonov. His words reflect the hope that Russia will not perish.

Landlords

Among the heroes of the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia", as indicated, there are also many landowners. One of them is Obolt-Obolduev. When the peasants ask him if he is happy, he only laughs in response. Then, with some regret, he recalls the past years, which were full of prosperity. However, the reform of 1861 abolished serfdom, although it was not completed. But even the changes that have taken place in public life cannot force the landowner to work and honor the results of the work of other people.

Another hero of Nekrasov's "Who Lives Well in Russia" - Utyatin, matches him. All his life he was "freaking and fooling," and when the social reform came, he had a blow. His children, in order to receive an inheritance, together with the peasants put on a real show. He is told that he will not be left with anything, and serfdom still reigns in Russia.

Grandfather Savely

The characterization of the heroes "Who lives well in Russia" would be incomplete without describing the image of Savely's grandfather. The reader gets to know him already when he lived a long and difficult life. In old age Savely lives with his son's family, he is Matryona's father-in-law. It is worth noting that the old man dislikes his family. After all, households do not have the best characteristics.

Even in his own circle, Savely is called "branded, convict." But he is not offended by this and gives a worthy answer: "Branded, but not a slave." Such is the character of this hero "Who Lives Well in Russia". Short description Savely's character can be supplemented by the fact that he sometimes does not mind playing a trick on members of his family. The main thing that is noted when meeting this character is his difference from the others, both from his son and from other inhabitants of the house.