Endless ugly in the muddy month of the game. New citizen poet

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
I'm going, I'm going in an open field;
Ding ding ding bell...
Terrible, terribly scary
Amid the unknown plains!

“Hey, go, coachman! ..” - “No urine:
Horses, master, it's hard;
The blizzard sticks my eyes;
All roads skidded;
For the life of me, no trace is visible;
We got lost. What should we do!
In the field the demon leads us, apparently
Yes, it circles around.

Look: out, out playing,
Blows, spits on me;
Out - now pushes into the ravine
wild horse;
There's an unprecedented milestone
He stuck out in front of me;
There he flashed a small spark
And disappeared into the empty darkness.

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
We do not have the strength to spin around;
The bell suddenly stopped;
The horses became ... "What is there in the field?" —
“Who knows them? stump or wolf?

The blizzard is angry, the blizzard is crying;
Sensitive horses snore;
Here he is galloping far away;
Only eyes in the darkness burn;
The horses raced again;
Ding ding ding bell...
I see: the spirits have gathered
Among the whitening plains.

Endless, ugly
In the muddy month game
Various demons swirled
Like leaves in November...
How many of them! where are they driven?
What is it they sing so plaintively?
Do they bury the brownie
Are witches getting married?

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
Demons rush swarm after swarm
In the boundless height
Screeching plaintively and howling
Breaking my heart...

Analysis of the poem "Demons" by Pushkin

The year 1830 was marked in Pushkin's work by one of the "Boldino autumns", characterized by a powerful surge of inspiration. During this period, he wrote a large number of various works. Among them is the poem "Demons".

The plot is based on the story of a traveler who got lost at night in a winter field. Pushkin repeatedly found himself in such a situation, and she was perfectly familiar to him. The central image of the poem is demons, personifying evil forces, seeking to lead a person astray and lead him to death.

At the beginning of the poem, the traveler has been on the road for a long time. Clouds gathering overhead do not bode well. The boundless "unknown plains" in Russia in such weather inspire only fear.

The coachman explains that they have lost their way in an impenetrable blizzard. He is sure that these are tricks of evil spirits. An educated gentleman, of course, is well aware that such an explanation is based on folk tales and legends. But in a hopeless situation, under the pressure of the horror that gripped the soul, you can believe in anything. The coachman's assurances that he really sees and hears the demons surrounding them seem plausible.

The slow movement of the carriage and the ringing of the bell somehow restrained fear, reminded them that the travelers were still alive. When the horses got up from fatigue, a huge feeling of hopelessness came over them. Strenuous attempts to see at least something in the darkness only irritate the imagination. Vague outlines lead to the most terrible guesses.

The author has already forgotten about his mental superiority. Trouble compared him to a simple peasant. Horses are also seized with fear, they also seem to be in danger. With the last of their strength, they broke loose and suffered, not sorting out the road. Still, moving without a goal is better than waiting on the spot for the unknown. In the soul of the master, childhood memories of terrible tales and legends emerge. He is already seriously thinking about what caused the appearance of demons (“do they bury a brownie”).

The poem does not describe the end of the journey. The final lines are dedicated to the desperate longing in the master's heart, which is surrounded by demonic "plaintive screeching and howling". Pushkin leaves the reader in the dark about the fate of his heroes. Any of the poet's contemporaries could find themselves in such a situation and seek protection from demons only in prayer.

Pushkin's genius always manifested itself in the most acute, critical periods of his life. Anyone who wants to get acquainted with the philosophical lyrics of the great poet should read the verse “Demons” by Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin, written during the first “Boldino autumn”.

The poem was written in 1830, when Alexander Sergeevich again wooed N.N. Goncharova and received consent. Autumn found him in Boldino, where the poet arrived to settle matters related to the entry into the inheritance. Due to cholera quarantines that began in the capital, Pushkin was forced to stay at the estate for three months. Thus began the first “Boldino autumn”, which became the highest point in the work of the great Russian poet.

In Possessed, Pushkin returns to the topic of Russian folklore that he was interested in. The main theme of this work is a journey into a snowstorm, which causes genuine horror even for a brave person. The lyrical hero, frightened by the rampant elements, asks the coachman to drive the horses without sparing. The peasant's answer is typical of a Russian peasant in the first half of the 19th century. This evil spirit fools travelers, it was she who lured them into a snow trap.

The coachman tells the master about how he encountered demons on the road more than once. In the end, the lyrical hero himself “sees” the eyes of evil spirits burning in the darkness.

Pushkin's works of the 1930s are noticeably different from his "rebellious" early work. This is already a mature Pushkin, condescending to the obscurantism of the common people, but sharply opposing demons in human form - representatives of the ruling elite.

The mysticism of "Demons", a poem that takes place in a lesson in the 6th grade, is closely intertwined with realism. It does not have notes of abstract spiritualism, which is rich in foreign literature of those times. According to A. Herzen, Pushkin's muse is "too rich in true feelings to look for imaginary ones." In this poem, the poet draws an analogy between the rampant evil spirits and secular Moscow balls, which do not stop even during the cholera epidemic.

This poem is easy to learn. Like all Pushkin's poetry, it easily evokes vivid images, and therefore is quickly remembered.

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
I'm going, I'm going in an open field;
Bell ding ding ding.
Terrible, terribly scary
Amid the unknown plains!

“Hey, go, coachman!” – “No urine:
Horses, master, it's hard,
The blizzard sticks my eyes,
All roads skidded;
For the life of me, no trace is visible;
We got lost. What should we do!
In the field the demon leads us, apparently
Yes, it circles around.

Look: out, out playing,
Blows, spits on me
Out - now pushes into the ravine
wild horse;
There's an unprecedented milestone
He stood in front of me
There he flashed a small spark
And he disappeared into the empty darkness.

The clouds roll, the clouds roll
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
Cloudy sky, cloudy night
We do not have the strength to spin around;
The bell suddenly stopped;
The horses became ... "What is there in the field?" -
“Who knows them? stump or wolf?”

The blizzard is angry, the blizzard is crying,
Sensitive horses snore
Here he is galloping far away;
Only eyes in the darkness burn;
The horses raced again;
Ding ding ding bell...
I see: the spirits have gathered
Among the whitening plains.

Endless, ugly
In the muddy month game
Various demons swirled
Like leaves in November...
How many? where are they driven?
What is it they sing so plaintively?
Do they bury the brownie
Are witches getting married?

Now the project goes to Ekho Moskvy

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding over an empty plain.

Not to say that it has become better, but the stagnation has ended.

The President said to China the phrase, the main one of the year -

Type I do not rule out that I will go to the polls.

Then the prime minister flashed his eyes and in response said to the doctors -

Like, and I do not exclude! And who would be excluded?

And although I consider the word given to the doctor as an oath,

But I do not want to belittle what is given to China!

Will both dare to offer themselves to the country,

And not to rule her to the grave, as happened in Astana?

Retreated from the role of someone in our near-zero -

A swamp was found where the solid earth was.

Unsteady, viscous, muddy, embarrassing and funny at times.

In the field, the demon leads us, apparently, and circles around.

Demons rush on the full-night path, as it used to be from time immemorial,

And above them the most powerful, nicknamed Besogon.

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding, the moon is invisible ...

Who is now more important and cooler, it is not clear a damn thing.

The old temptations surfaced, like a will in the yard.

The demons swirled different, like leaves in November!

Gleb Pavlovsky, Stas Belkovsky and Chadaev the Spoiler

Together they took out cast-offs of the former priestly tunics.

The screech of "United Rashi" is heard with the howls of youths,

“Ours” are rushing, “Ours” are winding, invisible Nemtsov ...

Woe, little one, I'm not strong! The ghoul will eat me completely!

What will happen to Russia if the tandem splits?

Separation in the Urals, as dreamed of forever,

To the West - to the liberal, and the East - to the security forces?

Mironov is overthrown - the first victim, so to speak ...

But it is more important for millions to know exactly who to lick!

With a furious screech and howl, as if the Cossacks were on the attack,

We run to our heroes, hanging out our tongues together.

Scary, scary involuntarily among the unknown plains.

Neither the poet nor the citizen sees anything anymore.

These are brought in, those will be dispersed - in general, comfort has ended.

Either they bury their homeland, or they give them in marriage.

Dm. Bykov

Pushkin's poem "Demons" itself - the original

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;

Invisible moon

Illuminates the flying snow;

The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.

I'm going, I'm going in an open field;

Ding ding ding bell...

Terrible, terribly scary

Amid the unknown plains!

“Hey, go, coachman! ...” - “No urine:

Horses, master, it's hard;

The blizzard sticks my eyes;

All roads skidded;

For the life of me, no trace is visible;

We got lost. What should we do!

In the field the demon leads us, apparently

Yes, it circles around.

Look: out, out playing,

Blows, spits on me;

Out - now pushes into the ravine

wild horse;

There's an unprecedented milestone

He stuck out in front of me;

There he flashed a small spark

And disappeared into the empty darkness.

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;

Invisible moon

Illuminates the flying snow;

The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.

We do not have the strength to spin around;

The bell suddenly stopped;

The horses became ... "What is there in the field?" -

“Who knows them? stump or wolf?

The blizzard is angry, the blizzard is crying;

Sensitive horses snore;

Here he is galloping far away;

Only eyes in the darkness burn;

The horses raced again;

Ding ding ding bell...

I see: the spirits have gathered

Among the whitening plains.

Endless, ugly

In the muddy month game

Various demons swirled

Like leaves in November...

How many of them! where are they driven?

What is it they sing so plaintively?

Do they bury the brownie

Are witches getting married?

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;

Invisible moon

Illuminates the flying snow;

The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.

Demons rush swarm after swarm

In the boundless height

Screeching plaintively and howling

Breaking my heart...

"Hey, go, coachman!" - "No urine:
Horses, master, it's hard,
The blizzard sticks my eyes,
All roads skidded;
For the life of me, no trace is visible;
We got lost. What should we do!
In the field the demon leads us, apparently
Yes, it circles around.

Look: out, out playing,
Blows, spits on me
Out - now pushes into the ravine
wild horse;
There's an unprecedented milestone
He stood in front of me
There he flashed a small spark
And disappeared into the empty darkness.

The clouds roll, the clouds roll
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
Cloudy sky, cloudy night
We do not have the strength to spin around;
The bell suddenly stopped;
The horses became... "What's in the field?" -
"Who knows them? a stump or a wolf?"

Endless, ugly
In the muddy moon game
Various demons swirled
Like leaves in November...
How many? where are they driven?
What is it they sing so plaintively?
Do they bury the brownie
Are witches getting married?

Alexander Pushkin, 1830

"Demons" Alexander Pushkin

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
I'm going, I'm going in an open field;
Bell ding ding ding.
Terrible, terribly scary
Amid the unknown plains!

"Hey, go, coachman!" - "No urine:
Horses, master, it's hard,
The blizzard sticks my eyes,
All roads skidded;
For the life of me, no trace is visible;
We got lost. What should we do!
In the field the demon leads us, apparently
Yes, it circles around.

Look: out, out playing,
Blows, spits on me
Out - now pushes into the ravine
wild horse;
There's an unprecedented milestone
He stood in front of me
There he flashed a small spark
And disappeared into the empty darkness.

The clouds roll, the clouds roll
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
Cloudy sky, cloudy night
We do not have the strength to spin around;
The bell suddenly stopped;
The horses became ... "What is there in the field?" —
“Who knows them? stump or wolf?

The blizzard is angry, the blizzard is crying,
Sensitive horses snore
Here he is galloping far away;
Only eyes in the darkness burn;
The horses raced again;
Ding ding ding bell...
I see: the spirits have gathered
Among the whitening plains.

Endless, ugly
In the muddy month game
Various demons swirled
Like leaves in November...
How many? where are they driven?
What is it they sing so plaintively?
Do they bury the brownie
Are witches getting married?

Clouds are rushing, clouds are winding;
Invisible moon
Illuminates the flying snow;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
Demons rush swarm after swarm
In the boundless height
Screeching plaintively and howling
Breaking my heart...

Analysis of Pushkin's poem "Demons"

In the autumn of 1830, Alexander Pushkin arrived in Boldino to settle all issues related to the entry into the ownership of the estate and prepare for the upcoming wedding. However, due to the fact that a cholera epidemic began in Moscow, the poet was forced to stay at the estate for several months. During this period, he created many philosophical and lyrical works, one of which was the poem "Demons".

In it, the author again touches on the topic of folklore, so close and understandable to himself, describing a journey into a snowstorm, which caused real horror for any traveler of that time. “It’s scary, scary involuntarily among the unknown plains!”, The poet notes and immediately turns to the coachman with a request that he who has the strength to drive the horses. In response, he hears a story, very typical for that time, that the travelers got lost, and the demons who lured them into a snow trap are to blame. “In the field, the demon leads us, apparently, and circles around,” the coachman answers his companion and gives many examples of how he had a chance to encounter evil spirits during his journey. She lured the horses into a ravine, then appeared in the form of a milestone and a light in a distant hut. And then, finally, the team stopped altogether, because “now he is jumping far away, only his eyes are burning in the darkness.”

Pushkin treated such stories with great interest and respect, considering them an integral part of Russian culture. However, as an educated person, the poet was well aware that the demons that lead travelers astray are just fiction. And any phenomenon will always have a simple and logical explanation that will give answers to any questions. Why, then, did the author focus on this mythical and obviously devoid of credibility plot? Everything is explained quite simply in the last lines of the poem, where Pushkin draws a parallel between demons and people in whose hands power is concentrated. The lost travelers in the poem "Demons" symbolize the Russian people, who are really lost among the snowy plains and cannot find their way to a happier and freer life. This is not due to superstition and illiteracy of people who carefully preserve their traditions and culture. The reason is that Russian peasants are still serfs, and their life does not belong to them, it lies precisely in those very demons - a bunch of well-fed and self-satisfied people who simply do not benefit from losing free labor and dispelling the illusions of the lower classes, giving them knowledge, which under certain conditions can become one of the most powerful weapons. It is with demons that Pushkin compares the ruling elite of Russia, which intrigues "simple travelers", i.e. constantly complicates the life of ordinary people, forcing them to experience fear, humiliation and resentment. Pushkin, on the other hand, has demons in human form, a feeling of disgust and irritation. “Endless, ugly, different demons swirled in the muddy month of the game,” this is how they appear to the poet, who in these lines draws an analogy with secular balls that did not stop in Moscow even during cholera quarantine.

The senselessness of the existence of people who consider themselves elected, the poet is ready to forgive them with a calm soul, because every person, in his opinion, has the right to cost his life as he sees fit. However, at the same time, no one has the right to mediocrely control the fate of others, using people in order to improve their well-being at the expense of their needs and problems. Therefore, in Pushkin, the idleness of secular society, which the author compares with a demonic coven, causes deep sadness, “with a plaintive screech and a howl tore my heart.” The poet, who is so dependent on the opinion of the high society, finally realizes that it is completely false and is another life mirage, a “game of demons” who are ready to confuse, lead astray and destroy any sane person, not out of malice of the soul, but solely for the sake of own entertainment. And this disappointing discovery makes the author take a fresh look at his belonging to the nobility and the ruling caste, where he is the same outcast as any peasant.