Railway

V a n I (in a coachman's coat).

Dad! who built this road?

Papa (in a coat with a red lining),

Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the car

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces;

The ice is fragile on the icy river

As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,

You can sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not faded yet,

Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,

Clear, quiet days...

There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi

And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight

Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...

I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,

I think my mind...

Good papa! Why in charm

Keep Vanya smart?

You let me in the moonlight

Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge

Not on the shoulder alone!

There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,

Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships

Rules; drives people to the artel,

Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders

Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.

Many are in a terrible struggle,

Calling to life these barren wilds,

The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,

Poles, rails, bridges.

And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...

How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!

Stomp and gnashing of teeth;

A shadow ran over the frosty glass...

What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,

Then the sides run.

Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night

We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,

With an eternally bent back,

Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,

Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,

The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...

We have endured everything, God's warriors,

Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!

We are destined to rot in the earth ...

Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness

Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!

From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,

From different parts of the great state -

These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,

You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,

You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,

Tall sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,

Ulcers on skinny arms

Forever knee-deep in water

The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade

From day to day leaned all century ...

You look at him, Vanya, carefully:

It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back

He is still: stupidly silent

And mechanically rusty shovel

Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work

It would not be bad for us to adopt with you ...

Bless the work of the people

And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...

The Russian people carried enough

Carried out this railroad -

Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear

He will pave the way for himself with his chest.

The only pity is to live in this beautiful time

You won't have to, neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening

He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!

"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -

Vanya said - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives

Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:

"Here they are - our road builders! .."

The general laughed!

“I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,

I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,

I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,

Well… did the people create all this?

Excuse me this impudent laugh,

Your logic is a bit wild.

Or for you Apollo Belvedere

Worse than an oven pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,

A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -

“I’m not talking for you, but for Vanya…”

But the general did not object:

“Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German

Do not create - destroy the master,

Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..

However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness

It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.

Would you show the child now

The bright side…

Happy to show!

Listen, my dear: fatal works

It's over - the German is already laying the rails.

The dead are buried in the ground; sick

Hidden in dugouts; working people

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...

They scratched their heads hard:

Each contractor must remain,

Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -

Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:

“Maybe there is now a surplus here,

Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,

Fat, squat, red as copper,

A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,

He goes to see his work.

The idle people make way dignifiedly...

Sweat wipes the merchant from the face

And he says, akimbo pictorially:

“Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now go home - congratulations!

(Hats off - if I say!)

I expose a barrel of wine to workers

And - I give arrears! .. "

Someone cheered. Picked up

Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:

With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...

Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant

With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...

Seems hard to cheer up the picture

Draw, General?

Vania (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
daddy (in a coat with a red lining).
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the car

I

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

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

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

II

"Good dad! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous, -
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? ..“

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to cover yourself with a glove.
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

III

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and is he he told me:
“Here they are, the builders of our road! ..””
The general laughed!

I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:

Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side... -

IV

“Glad to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
"Maybe there's just too much here now,
Yes, you go! .. “They waved their hands ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
"Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
AND - I donate arrears!“

Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" I rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to cheer up the picture
Draw, general? .. "

Vanya (in a coachman's coat). Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining). Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the car

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...
II

"Good dad! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous, -
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.
He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.
Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!
We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? ..“
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to cover yourself with a glove.
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:
Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;
I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!
This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.
III

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
“Here they are, the builders of our road! ..””
The general laughed!
- I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?
Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:
- Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side... -
IV

“Glad to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!
Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
"Maybe there's just too much here now,
Yes, you go! .. “They waved their hands ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
"Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..
With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
And - I give arrears! ..“
Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!
Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" I rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to cheer up the picture
Draw, general? .. "

An excerpt from the poem by N.A. Nekrasov "Railway"

Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do all of us, the poor, remember kindly
Or have you forgotten a long time ago? .. "

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he stands, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.

Analysis of an excerpt from the poem by N.A. Nekrasov "Railway"

Nekrasov in the poem "Railway" described the work and suffering of the Russian people, the oppression and losses that he endured. One of the worst disasters was, of course, hunger. The poet creates extended metaphor of the “king-hunger”, where the latter appears before us as creature, ruling the world. It is he who makes the peasants work day and night, take on overwork losing physical and mental strength. In order to show all the hardships of the life of workers driven to the construction of the railway, the author constructs a poem like an eyewitness account perhaps even a participant in these events. This, as well as permanent appeals(to “daddy”, “Vanya”) give the text more authenticity, and besides, liveliness and emotionality.
People worked and died while they were building the railway (“And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...”). Fantastic image of the "crowd of the dead" helps to better understand the fate of the peasant builder. For your Slave work people didn't get any gratitude; those who forced the common people to build the railway did not help in any way, but only exploited the unfortunate people. To emphasize this, Nekrasov uses short, often uncommon offers, as well as vocabulary with negative semantics(“They were cold and wet, they were ill with scurvy”, “We were robbed by the literate foremen, / The bosses were falling, the need was crushing ...”).
Subject social injustice is also revealed in portrait sick Belarusian. Nekrasov, using bright epithets, as well as colloquial vocabulary , creates the image of a downtrodden, humiliated, sick railroad builder (“Bloodless lips, fallen eyelids<…>/ Feet swollen; A tangle in the hair;", "humped back", "ulcers", "chest pit"). His face shows all the suffering of the people and the indifference of the upper strata of society.
But Nekrasov emphasizes that, despite the humiliation and poverty, hunger and cold, the Russian people “endure everything” (“The Russian people have endured enough, / Will endure everything that the Lord sends!”). In this praise of the Russian people, as well as in an open call to struggle, lies the main ideological pathos of the passage.

"Railway" Nikolai Nekrasov

V a n I (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the car

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

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

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work
It would not be bad for us to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!

“I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well… did the people create all this?

Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! ”-
“I’m not talking for you, but for Vanya…”
But the general did not object:

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side…

Happy to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people make way dignifiedly...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
“Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
And - I give arrears! .. "

Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to cheer up the picture
Draw, General?

Analysis of Nekrasov's poem "Railway"

The poet Nikolai Nekrasov is one of the founders of the so-called civil direction in Russian literature. His works are devoid of any embellishments and are characterized by extraordinary realism, which sometimes causes a smile, but in most cases is an excellent occasion for rethinking the reality around us.

Such profound works include the poem "Railway", written in 1864, a few months after the abolition of serfdom. In it, the author tries to show reverse side medals for the construction of an overpass between Moscow and St. Petersburg, which for many workers became a huge mass grave.

The poem consists of four parts. The first of them is romantic and peaceful. In it, Nekrasov talks about his railway journey, not forgetting to pay tribute to the beauty of Russian nature and the amazing landscapes that open up outside the window of a train passing through meadows, fields and forests. Admiring the opening picture, the author becomes an unwitting witness to the conversation between the father-general and his teenage son, who is interested in who built the railway. It should be noted that this topic in the second half of the 19th century was especially relevant and burning, since railway communication opened up truly unlimited opportunities for travel. If it was possible to get from Moscow to St. Petersburg by postal carriage in about a week, then traveling by train made it possible to reduce travel time to one day.

However, few people thought about the price that had to be paid for Russia to finally turn from a backward agrarian country into a developed European power. symbol of transformation into this case made by the railway, which was designed to emphasize new status Russian empire. It was built by former serfs, who, having received the long-awaited freedom, simply did not know how to dispose of this priceless gift. They were driven to the construction site of the century not so much by curiosity and a desire to fully taste the delights of free life, but by a banal hunger, which Nekrasov in his poem calls nothing more than a “king” who rules the world. As a result, several thousand people died on the construction of the railway, and the poet considered it necessary to tell about this not only to his young companion, but also to readers.

The subsequent parts of the poem "Railway" are devoted to a dispute between the author and the general, who is trying to convince the poet that the Russian peasant, stupid and powerless, is not able to build anything more worthwhile than a wooden rural hut, miserable and warped. According to Nekrasov's opponent, only educated and noble people have the right to consider themselves geniuses of progress, they own great discoveries in the field of science, culture and art. At the same time, the general insists that the bleak picture that the poet painted harms the fragile youthful mind of his son. And Nekrasov takes the liberty of showing the situation from the other side, talking about how the construction work was completed, and at the celebration on this occasion, the workers received a barrel of wine from the master's shoulder of the meadowsman and - the cancellation of debts that they had accumulated during the construction of the railway. Simply put, the poet directly pointed to the fact that yesterday's slaves were again deceived, and the results of their work were appropriated by those who are the masters of life and can afford to dispose of the lives of others at their own discretion.