Poetry collection "Pine noise". "Soul keeps"

"Sosen Shum" is the last lifetime edition of the poet... It seems that a lot has already been said about this poet... Gleb Gorbovsky called him the long-awaited poet... and rightly so. Rubtsov is one of those whose poetry touches the heart. That's enough, it makes you cry, then yearn. And this longing is incomprehensible to the Russian soul ... About what? About the native side? About the fate of man? Or maybe about our share - a share ... To live to live is not a field to cross.

Rubtsov's birches ... Where else will you find this:

I love it when birch trees rustle

When the leaves fall from the birches.

I listen and tears come

Eyes weary of tears.

What an unpretentious landscape sketch ... One stroke, one stroke of the artist ... But what! How truly Russian nature is captured at the time of golden leaf fall. And how it is consonant with the Russian perception. Russian birch ... how many songs have been sung about it! How many poems have been written about her. But only Rubtsov could say so original.

In the poem "In the Minutes of Music" birches are also mentioned.

In moments of sad music

And the noise of impetuous birches,

And the first snow under the gray sky

Among the fading fields

And the path without the sun, the path without faith

Cranes driven by snow.

This picture is so familiar to my heart, it seems that Rubtsov saw our bare autumn fields and captured them with words, and our cranes also mournfully cooing, as if they want to say: "Will we see you again." I am a northerner myself. I myself love our stingy northern nature, but not only this Rubtsov's line hooked me ... Which of us has not lost something of our own, dear? Who has not suffered, heart aching from irretrievability, from the impossibility of finding the lost? How sparingly the landscape is described in this poem "the yellow stretch, the noise of gusty birches" and how exactly, how painfully it echoes the pain in the human soul:

And still under the low sky

I see clearly, to tears,

And the noise of impetuous birches.

This poem reminded me of my spiritual losses ... And yet, reading it, I do not succumb to a dull mood. No, no, everything in this world is transient, and yet it is worth living, even in order to see again both the yellow reach and the low shore ... Hear the voices of those who are no longer around, but whom, while we are alive, we love and remember ... Nikolai Rubtsov's poetry, his love for home country, stories native land responded in my mind as follows poetic lines which I wrote under the influence of his great poetic gift.

Dedicated to Nikolai Rubtsov...

Rubtsovsky volume carefully leafing through,

I see bare, autumn fields...

And cranes, the last, belated ones,

Relatives of those leaving the region.

I hear the echo of bold steel.

I see Russia in the crosses of shame in reality

Insecurity of the beloved Motherland -

The prophetic string worries the heart ...

A descendant of Pushkin, a singer of endless fields,

You loved your Motherland to tears.

You sang the low-key beauties of the north,

A couple of her impetuous birches.

How little is lived ... How much is given

For the same boat on the river bank,

Thunder rolls that once thundered

For mother with a bucket of water.

No, that pain did not go away, it remained in verse

And raised the poet to heaven,

Like cranes flying in a caravan,

Fields of Russia hugging the forest...

Ekaterina Chuprova

ANASTASIA CHERNOVA

ETHNOPOETIC CONSTANT OF PINE NOISE IN THE LYRICS OF N. RUBTSOV.

annotation
The article reveals typical artistic elements, which form the ethnopoetic constant of pine noise in N. Rubtsov's lyrics. Features of the author's consciousness are revealed through a comparison of the pine noise constant with traditional images world folk culture, lyrical songs and Russian poetry of the 19th-20th centuries.

Keywords: Russian poetry, ethnopoetic constant, symbol
Keywords: Russian poetry, etnopoeticheskaya constant symbol

Pine is considered one of the most common symbols not only in Russian, but throughout the world. folk culture. However, the meaning of this symbol different peoples may be different. In Russian lyric poetry not only the pine, but even the noise of the pines is endowed with special sacred meaning.
In the poems of N.M. Rubtsov's "In the Old Park" and "Pine Noise" in the noise of trees seems to be the voice of the ages. And in one and the other case - we are talking about pines that are called old, and the disturbing rumble of their branches is compared with a legend. Sensitively listening to the past eras, lyrical hero trying to figure out the meaning of this story.
Here in the poem “In the Old Park” he walks through an abandoned, forgotten estate and involuntarily recalls the gentleman who once lived here:

Here the barin lived.
And maybe now
Like an old lion
Decrepit in a foreign land
About this sweet
He remembered raspberries
And long tears
Rolling out of the eyes...

In a few lines, the fate of the nobility is recreated: remembering his native land, the master cries in a foreign land. Such a situation is in the spirit of folk songs, poems, proverbs: “even the bones are crying for their homeland”, “Afonyushka is bored on a strange side”, “there was a good fellow - he didn’t see fun in his village, he went out to a foreign land - he cried”, “in a foreign land and the dog is sad."
Rubtsov's poem "In the Old Park", written in 1967, echoes the poem by I. A. Bunin "And I dreamed that autumn sometimes... "(1893). Whether Rubtsov read Bunin's poetry is not known; in the memoirs dedicated to the poet, nothing is said about this. But, meanwhile, the poetic situation is repeated almost verbatim, with the difference that the lyrical characters change places. The lyrical hero of Bunin's poem turns out to be the very gentleman whose fate the lyrical hero Rubtsov reflects on. Master Bunina returns in a dream to his estate, destroyed and forgotten:

And I dreamed that in autumn sometimes
On a cold night I returned home.
By dark road I went alone
To the familiar estate, to the native village.
If in Rubtsov’s poem the pine trees groan anxiously, then Bunin’s lyrical hero, plunging into the dreary rumble of the garden, is looking for “the spruce planted by his father”:
And I dreamed that all night I walked
In the garden, where the wind whirled and howled,
I was looking for a spruce planted by my father,
I was looking for those rooms where the family gathered,
Where mother rocked my cradle
And caressed me with tender sadness,
With insane longing I called someone,
And the naked garden hummed and groaned.

Both works depict desolation: Bunin describes more the destruction inside the room, the rooms where he spent his childhood; Rubtsov draws attention to the desolation of the park, he walks around the house, but does not look inside.
The images that convey desolation in N. Rubtsov's poem are characteristic: an old mansion, paths overgrown with nettles, raspberries and large fruits of rare cherries. Around - the evening darkness, which is combined with flashes of light, mostly yellow: the mansion itself is yellow, and from the darkness of the abandoned garden, the yellow eyes of a cat burn sadly.
Despite the fact that yellow is the color of ripe ears and frozen sunlight, in Russian folk culture it is often deprived positive connotation and more often means illness, wilting and death.
If the first stanza of N. Rubtsov's poem depicts a bright, flaming sunset, then gradually, as the lyrical hero moves deeper into the park, turquoise and fiery feathers fade, the established black and yellow color palette creates a feeling of a hovering mortal spirit: the once well-groomed and equipped place has become neglected , impassable, manor house, and with it the whole traditional way of life, without regret "forgotten forever." The final destruction is evidenced not only by overgrown paths or an empty house, but also by the darkening evening sky, likened to ash.

Covered in ashes
Turquoise fades.

The comparison of sunset clouds with ashes again directs the artistic thought of the poem to the theme of destruction, complete disappearance, and also the deepest sorrow. Popular expression"Sprinkle ashes on your head" occurs in many places Old Testament. Mourning their misfortune or their loved ones, the ancient Jews sprinkled ashes on their heads.
At first glance, the description of bright raspberries and cherries is somewhat out of this sad picture of comprehensive despondency.
In folklore, raspberries and cherries are a symbol of youth, happiness and joy. However, the gerund “flaring up” (“Only beckoning, flaring up, / Raspberry berries”) implies a short duration, instability of action: only that which is doomed later can flare up and go out. In addition, cherry berries are rare, which means there are few of them; thus, the epithet only emphasizes the former splendor of the manor's garden, which is now exhausted and, withering, is overgrown with weeds.
In such a deserted place, abandoned by a man ("Nobody's coming / Will not revive the picture"), only the wind makes a dull noise, swaying the pines, and the lyrical hero thinks, trying to unravel their disturbing voice, but it turns out that this is not so simple.

And this noise
Excites and worries
And don't understand
What are they talking about? [Ibid.].

The swaying of the pines turns into sad music, which you can listen to for a long time and then it brings calm, “enlightenment of thoughts”. In another poem, also called "Pine Noise", the lyrical hero arrives in a small village Vologda region- Lipin Bor, and stops at a regional hotel.

The poetic situation repeats itself again: the lingering noise of the pines seems to be telling something excitedly, a mysterious “eternal dispute” takes place between the needles and the snowy wind. The spatio-temporal coordinates of the two poems are also similar. In both cases, the lyrical action unfolds in evening time, in the thickening darkness, diluted with yellow light: “In the old park”, cat’s eyes shine from the darkness of the “dull building”, and in the poem “Pine Noise”, in the darkness of the snow, the light of the neighboring barrack burns.

"What a Russian village!" - says the lyrical hero about Lipin Bor, and calls it old and cozy. Not only the village is endowed with a sign of antiquity, but also the pines: Ancient pines make a long noise ...
In an ancient place, in the midst of darkness, diluted with yellow lights - whether it be a window or a cat's eyes - pine noise, reminiscent of not just a human dialect, but an ancient legend, brings the soul of the lyrical hero into a special state: he acquires the ability to distinguish the "voice of the ages". The "voice of the ages" breaks through in the noise of the ancient pines, which saw the events of past eras. Now it is impossible to sleep, you need to listen.

But how to sleep when out of the darkness
I seem to hear the voice of the ages,
And the light of the neighboring barracks
Still burning in the haze of snow.

The knowledge of this secret voice is not an empty pastime, not a pleasant rest for a weary traveler, but crucial point in the spiritual life of the lyrical hero, which is why he remarks:
I won't oversleep the tale of the pines
Long noise of ancient pines... [ibid.]

The ethnopoetic constant of noisy pines in N. Rubtsov's poems, endowed with a special, sacred meaning, performs a phatic function: the lingering rumble, ripening in the darkness of the night, resembles a historical echo that disturbs with its unknown depth. A voice seemed to be concentrated in it, or rather even a groan of past generations: “A dark row of pines / Suddenly it makes a noise, / It groans, it becomes ill.”

The combination of black and yellow color also creates an unsettling feeling of otherness: thus, in the visible objective realities - an old mansion, a hotel in an old cozy village - the mystical properties of the cemetery world come through.
The repeatability of this artistic image in folklore and literary works allows us to speak of a noisy pine tree as an ethnopoetic constant that performs an image-creating function.
Pine is considered one of the most common symbols not only in Russian, but also in the entire world folk culture. However, the meanings of this symbol in different nations may vary somewhat. For example, if in Chinese poetry a pine tree represents constancy, marital happiness, vitality and longevity, then in Russian - constancy, sadness and loneliness. (Remember famous poem Lermontov "In the wild north"). Zhao Daifeng notes that in Russian poetry, unlike Chinese, pine symbolizes not only "fortitude in difficult circumstances", but also sadness, suffering.

This is very important observation, which allows revealing the axeological feature of a widespread image in the refraction of national culture.

The ethnopoetic constant of the noisy pine is a conductor between the present and the past, which, however, is revealed by poets in different ways. In Rubtsov’s poems “In the Old Park” and “Pine Noise”, the personal plan is replaced by the historical one: the noisy pine, first of all, broadcasts the “voice of the ages”, conveys the historical depth of modernity. Thus, the poetics of Rubtsov's poems approaches artistic features historical songs. history song"reproduced the main thing - historical time, which became her main aesthetic factor", it was in the songs that "historical consciousness was displayed". . However, specific events real heroes Russian history, which operate in historical songs, has not yet been manifested in these poems by Rubtsov. At the thematic level, there is a connection with folk lyrical songs in the poems.

The constant of pine as well as aspen, mountain ash, bitter wormwood in Russian folklore always conveys a state of misfortune and grief and persistent opposition to it. In lyrical songs, the pine sways from the wind, and therefore it is advisable to talk not so much about the constant of the pine, but about the constant of the lingering pine noise caused by gusts of wind. The sound and object characteristics of the constant merge into one single whole.

In lyrical songs, the pine rumble evokes sadness, melancholy, a feeling of loneliness and life disorder in a good fellow. Here he spends the night in a dark autumn forest under a pine tree. If in N. Rubtsov’s poem the lyrical hero is disposed to listen to the “tale” of ancient pines, this brings him not only anxiety, but also calmness, “enlightenment of thoughts”, then the fellow folk song is horrified and, on the contrary, persuades the pine tree not to make noise, not to interfere with thinking about red girl:

“Do not make noise in your heads, green pine!
Do not bother the young man to think,
Think a thought, a strong thought
Not about mother, not about father,
About the soul of a red girl! .

internal state well done, according to the principle of psychological parallelism, corresponds to the alarming hum of pine branches. By analogy, we can assume that the wind that has died down in the forest will mean enlightenment and calming of the love feeling.
In another lyrical song, the girl turns to the wind-breeze and asks not to shake the pine tree in the forest: it is already difficult and impossible for the pine tree to stand, thus the pine personifies the state of the girl:

You are my winds, breezes,
Your subtle voices!
You do not blow, winds, on the woods,
Do not sway, winds, pine in the forest!
Is it sickening to stand in a pine forest,
It is impossible for a pine tree to stand sick.

In the second part of the song, we learn that the girl's tears are not accidental: I already have sadness and grief: / They send my friend to the soldiers! [Ibid].

Sadness, disorder personal life, loneliness, death - such feelings are conveyed by pine noise in folk lyrical songs; the disturbing "rumble of the ages", which distinguishes the lyrical hero of N. Rubtsov's poems, is almost not indicated in the lyrical songs. Grief and heartache are caused in a good fellow or a red girl exclusively by love experiences, while the thoughts of the lyrical hero Rubtsov are more historical than personal, which brings the poetics of his poems closer to historical songs. The pine noise constant in both folklore and Rubtsov's poetry means anxiety, heartache, however, the existential reason for this excitement is different. “The suffering of love” and “anxious rumble of antiquity” are two important, although not the only, semantic facets that form the constant of pine noise.
In the literary tradition psychological function the image of a noisy pine tree is combined with a phatic function: an anxious mood is caused by a sense of the antiquity of the earth, and pine noise is born, as a rule, at night.
The lyrical hero of the poem by A.K. Tolstoy's "Pine forest stands in a lonely country" (1843) is spiritually disposed to recall in a pine forest the events of antiquity and former sad years:

Pine forest in a lonely country stands;
In it, a stream runs and murmurs between the trees.
I love that stream, I love that country
I love to remember the old days in that forest.
He comes to the forest, which is natural, only at sunset, when only the moon and stars shine in the fog. So the traditional combination of dark and yellow colors reappears.
When the sun goes down, when the moon rises
And a star among my waters will sway,
Come secretly, you will know
What happens sometimes here in the fog of the night! [ibid.]

In a poem by A.K. Tolstoy, there is a substantive displacement of the sound messenger of the past: the lyrical hero catches the disturbing conversation not in the noise of pines, but in the noise of the waters of a forest stream:

So whispered, and murmured, and the brook ran;
Leaning on the gun, I stood alone,
And only the voice of the jet interrupted the silence,
And I sadly recalled the previous years. [ibid.]

The noise of water and the noise of pines are combined in a poem by I.A. Bunin "Greenish light of the desert moonlit night…»:

The greenish light of a desert moonlit night
Far under the mountain - the sea desert shine ...
I hear the autumn wind in the pines on the mountains
And under the cliff - indistinct noise and splashing.

The pines make noise, which is natural, at night, when the moon is shining, and create an alarming and dreary mood:

And in the dull rustle and rumble of mountain pines
I feel the anguish of their hopeless thoughts.

Anxiety, the feeling of an ancient place, yellow-black colors and night time - these are the main semantic knots that form the ethnopoetic constant of pine noise in N. Rubtsov's lyrics.

List of used literature

1. Bunin 1965 - Bunin I. A. Poems // Collected works, in 9 volumes. T. 1. - M .: Fiction, 1965.
2. Dal 1984 - Dal V. .I. Proverbs of the Russian people in 2 volumes - M .: Fiction, 1984.
3. Zhao Daifeng 2011 - Zhao Daifeng. – The Image of a Pine in Chinese and Russian Poetry // Scientific Initiative foreign students and graduate students Russian universities: Collection of reports of the IV All-Russian scientific and practical conference. - Tomsk, 2011. - S. 512-514.
4. Zueva, Kirdan 2001 - Zueva T.V., Kirdan B.P. Russian folklore: textbook. - M.: Flinta: Science, 2001
5. Rubtsov, 2006 - Rubtsov N.M. Works. – M.: Russian writer, 2006.
6. Russian lyrical song, 2004 - Russian lyrical song. - St. Petersburg: Composer, 2004.
7. Tolstoy, 1977 - Tolstoy A.K. Poems. – M.: Soviet Russia, 1977.

My dahlias are freezing.
And the last nights are close.
And on clods of yellowing clay
Petals fly over the fence ...

No, I will not be pleased - what are you! -
Lonely wandering star.
My planes have flown
My trains whistled.

My steamboats roared
My carts creaked, -
I came to you in the days of bad weather,
So if you please, give me some water to drink!

Do not break my worldly chains,
Do not rush off, eyes of grief,
In the Pugachev free steppes,
Where the soul of a rebel walked.

Do not break my painful connection
With the long autumn of our land,
With a tree at a damp hitching post,
With cranes in the cold distance...

But I love you in the days of bad weather
And I wish you forever
So that your ships roar,
Let your trains whistle!

PINE NOISE

Once again you greeted me
Cozy ancient Lipin Bor,
Where only the wind, the snowy wind
Starts an eternal dispute with needles.

What a Russian village!
I listened to the noise of pines for a long time,
And then came the illumination
My simple evening thoughts.

I'm sitting in a regional hotel,
I smoke, I read, I heat the stove,
It will probably be a sleepless night
Sometimes I don't like to sleep!

But how to sleep when out of the darkness
I seem to hear the voice of the ages,
And the light of the neighboring barracks
Still burning in the haze of snow.

May the path be frosty tomorrow
Let me be, maybe gloomy,
I won't oversleep the tale of the pines
Ancient pines long noise...

IN THE OLD PARK

sandy path
In the spruce dark forest.
Into the green pond
Fallen trees.
And turquoise
And fiery feathers
Night thunderstorm
Washed skies!

yellowing sadly,
old mansion
Standing in the wilderness
Running park -
How wild it is here!
Need a stronger stick
to lay down
Nettle somehow...

Covered in ashes
Turquoise fades.
And there in the darkness
dull building,
Forgotten forever
Without regret
Cats are burning
Yellow eyes.

Not to be found
overgrown footprints,
Nobody's coming
Doesn't bring pictures to life
They only beckon, flaring up,
raspberries
Yes rare cherries
Large fruits.

Here the barin lived.
And maybe now
Like an old lion
decrepit in a foreign land,
About this sweet
He remembered raspberries
And long tears
Rolling out of the eyes...

The wind will blow!
Pine dark row
Suddenly it makes a noise
Will moan, become ill,
And this noise
Excites and worries
And don't understand
What are they talking about.

GREEN FLOWERS

Sadness brightens when flowers bloom
When I wander through a multi-colored meadow
Alone or with a good old friend
Which itself does not suffer fuss.

Behind us is noise and dusty tails -
Everything calmed down! One thing remains clear
That the world is arranged menacingly and beautifully,
What is easier where the field and flowers.

Stopping in the slow way
I watch how the day, playing, blossoms.
But even here... something is missing...
Missing what can't be found.

How not to find an extinguished star,
As never before, wandering the flowering steppe,
Between white leaves and on white stems
I can't find green flowers...

IN A DESERT

hundreds of years
Flying by without a trace.
hundreds of years
supernaturally evil,
As intended
Someone for revenge
Hundreds of years
Over the deserts heat!

Walked with curses
All caravans...
Who loved you?
And who caressed you?
Who regretted
Buried countries
Between the sands
And collapsed rocks?

With a hoarse cry
Disturbing the tomb
are rising
Like crosses
Fantastically dark
Birds,
Lonely birds of the desert

But also in the dead
Sands without movement
As under oppression
unknown thoughts,
Ripens burning
Thirst for battle
In every rustle
The Samum is ripening!..

1968

A STORY OF FIRST LOVE

I also served in the Navy!
I am also full of memories
About that incomparable work -
On the crests of monstrous waves.

You - ah, the sea, the sea! -
I'm excited to the very core,
But, apparently, on the mountain
Served you for so long...

Beloved almost died
Oh mama motherland! -
Sobbing, beating against my chest,
Like the sea against the chest of a ship.

In my endless sorrow
As if following a ship
Whispered: "I'm waiting for you ... forever,"
She whispered: "I... love you."

Love you! What sounds!
But the sounds are neither
And somewhere at the end of parting
She forgot about everything.

One day from some road
Sent a few words:
"My dear! After all, so many
Now the love is passing ... "

And yet on cold nights
Sadder than the visions of others -
Her eyes, very close,
And the sea that took them.

(1968)

Options: 1

PAY

I forgot what love is
And under the moonlight over the city
So many cursed words
I get gloomy when I remember this.

And one day, pressed against the wall
Disgrace, following the trail,
Lonely I scream in my sleep
And I'll wake up, and I'll go, and I'll go...

The door will open late at night.
It will be a sad moment.
At the threshold I will stand like a beast,
Wanting love and comfort.

Turn pale and say: - Go away!
Our friendship is now over!
I mean nothing to you!
Leave! Don't look at me crying!

And again along the forest road
Where weddings used to fly,
Restless, gloomy, nocturnal,
I anxiously leave in a blizzard ...

1962

Options: 1

IN THE HAY

Worn in the morning
hay,
Mowed, it's time!
Tired in the fire
Firewood was thrown
And they were silent by the fire.

And here again
The women sigh
Are they thinking about something?
And the men lie
blissful
And they blow smoke into the sky!

They interpret
About politics,
About the news, about this, about this,
Don't criticize
For criticism
And they judge everything wisely,

And laughter is heard
In the shade under the branches
And Russian songs are heard
More and more new
Soviet,
Less and less - sad antiquity ...