Read to whom it is good to live in Russia. ON

The work of the great Russian poet tells us about how seven peasants decided to search for happy person... According to the author's idea, the peasants were supposed to reach Petersburg, but due to a serious illness and the sudden death of Nikolai Alexandrovich, the poem remained so unfinished.

So, at the crossroads, there are seven men from the Terpigorevo district, but only each of them from different villages of the poor and poor. They all argue with each other who lives the best. One claims to be a landowner, the other that a priest.

Everyone left the house on an important matter, but after meeting, they struck up a conversation on this topic to such an extent that they not only forgot about everything in the world, but also began to fight during the dispute.

Having reached the forest, they continued their conflict, and alarmed all the animals and birds. Frightened by such a noise, a chick falls out of the nest and the peasants pick it up, and think that it is easier for the bird to find out where to live well in Russia. A frightened warbler, the chick's mother flies up to them and asks them to give her the chick. As a reward, she shows where the treasure is buried, and there is a magic tablecloth that will always give them drink and feed, but you cannot ask for a lot of alcohol. She enchants their clothes so that she is safe and sound on the way and flew away with her chick. Satisfied peasants, having eaten and drunk, decide not to return home until they find out who is doing well.

Walking along the road, they meet different people. These are both soldiers and apprentices, but from their appearance it is immediately evident that their life is not sweet. Late in the evening they come across a pop, and they learn about his fate. As the priest himself thinks, his happiness should lie in peace, wealth and respect for him. But in reality, this is not the case. The groans of dying people long service crying does not bring him any rest. When the priest finished the howling sad story, he leaves and the men attack Luka, who argued that the priest lives richly, but in fact, it turned out not to be so.

After a dispute, the peasants go to the fair in the village of Kuzminskoye, which is famous for big amount taverns and drunken people. Books are also sold here, but more and more with simple pictures. And no one knows when they will start buying and reading the literature of Russian classics. The men, being at the fair, continue their way, but it was already at night. And in the dark, they hear different people talking about their troubles and problems. One of the pilgrims reproaches the peasants for this way of life. And Yakim Goliy, who lives in this village, justifies his villagers. After all, they do not drink from a good life.

Travelers, having typed a bucket of vodka, decide to find out which of the inhabitants is in this life.

The bucket quickly emptied, but the happy one was never found.

Continuing on their way, the peasants come across the landowner Gavrila Afanasyevich Obolta-Obolduev, who told them his story. He was a kind gentleman, the servants loved him, but they took away his land, squandered his household, and ordered him to work, but he was not taught this.

Then they come across a peasant woman Korchagina Matryona Timofeevna, who told about her hard lot as a woman. All her life she worked for her husband's relatives, lost her eldest son Demushka, whom she still cannot forget. And as the woman says, that the happiness of a woman is unknown where it is.

The most glorious place for our heroes seems to be the village of Vakhlachina, where the festivities take place. Men are also feasting, joined by two seminarians who sing joyful songs and tell interesting stories... One of them, Grisha, from the age of 15, is firmly convinced that he wants to devote his fate to the happiness of the people. In the future, it will be the people's defender. But the peasants do not hear him, otherwise they would have understood that a happy man is standing in front of him.

After all, it is precisely the appearance of people like Gregory that Russia will rise from its slave knees and national happiness will come.

The main idea of ​​the story Who lives well in Russia Nekrasov

The work teaches us to understand what is the value of true happiness. And for this you don't need much - this is a friendly and strong family, work that brings joy and profit for yourself, and to show yourself in this life as such a person so that others will respect you.

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Nekrasov N. A. All works

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Who lives well in Russia

Nikolay Alekseevich Nekrasov

"Who Lives Well in Russia" - the final work of Nekrasov, folk epic, which included 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, Neelova -

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: ass.

To the fat-bellied merchant! -

The brothers Gubins said,

Ivan and Metrodor.

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 passers-by 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 reproach!

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,

Whenever they meet a woman,

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

Pakhom looked, was silent,

He looked - scattered with his 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's 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,

The birch barks are folded.

Vodka came soon.

Has come and a snack -

The peasants are feasting!

The kosushki drank three at a time,

Have eaten - and argued

Again: to whom it is fun to live,

Is it at ease in Russia?

The novel 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

Swearing swearing

No wonder they will grab onto

In each other's hair ...

Look - we’ve already clung to it!

Roman plays with Pakhomushka,

Demian plays with 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 ran away!

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;

Chirping, crying chiffchaff,

Where is the chick? - will not find!

Then the old cuckoo

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!

Bread will be pricked

You 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 the raven, the smart bird,

Is in a pinch, 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

I 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.

He has one concern -

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

We washed ourselves, freshened up,

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 it 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,

And 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, -

And so we would be Mother Russia

We measured it with our feet! " -

Said the gloomy Prov.

"Yes, a bucket of vodka", -

Have increased the desire

Before the vodka, the Gubin brothers,

Ivan and Metrodor.

"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 some 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 will find yourself.

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 want

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.

- So that a louse, a foul 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 my dear chick,

And the men in single file

Stretched to the road

Search for the thirtieth pillar.

Found! - Walk silently

Directly, rightly

Through the dense forest,

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 unbelted,

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 may be for certain:

Who lives happily

Is it at ease in Russia?

Having set 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! "

Dislike for the 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 problem! ..

In the morning we met the wanderers

Everything more people 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.

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, Neelova -

Bad harvest, too.

We are going on an important matter:

We have a concern

Is it such a care

Which survived from the houses,

Has made us friends with work,

She beat him 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 Metrodor.

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 won'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:

Who likes to live, it's fun

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

Deathrattle

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,

Seminarist of everyone -

How do you honor?

Who is in pursuit, like a gelding,

Shout: 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 ruddy sun-grandfather

The clouds are playing:

Here is the right side

One continuous cloud

Covered - clouded

It got dark and cried:

Rows of gray threads

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

Popovskoe is 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 volunteers

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 probably die

I came to the village.

If he dies by accident,

And then he will punish hard

Bury in the parish.

You look at the rural temple

On a funeral chariot

The heirs of six horses

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 hryvnia

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, 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 consolation

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,

Popov'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

They scolded the 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 doesn't 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 sorry for the little animal;

Having fed meager reserves,

The master of the 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 disappear? .. "

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 won't let you 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 mosquito

Agile and skinny

Jumping like dry

Walking 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: a 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 around.

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:

A lot of 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 guys 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!

Get in - get dressed!

At ease, newfangled women,

Fishing tackle for you

Wear it under skirts!

The smart-looking women,

Old Believer feisty

Tovarke says:

“Be hungry! to be hungry!

Marvel at how the seedlings are soaked

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?

Have you been 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, tried hard.

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 is broken

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,

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,

I wore a red shirt,

Cloth undergarment,

Grease boots;

Sang fluently Russian songs

And he loved to listen to them.

He was seen by many

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? joking 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 civilians! -

(However, they took it - cheap! -

Of some dignitary

For belly with a barrel of wine

And seventeen stars.)

Merchant - with all due respect,

He treats what he likes

(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 ...

God 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 of roses?

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,

Send 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,

Guttin 'with 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

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 up 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 grapeshot

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 on velvet

That tricky letter,

Which is not wise,

Buzzing! That the sea is blue

Falls silent, rises

Popular rumor.

“And we are fifty dollars to the clerk:

The piercing 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.)

- To the Kuzminskoe gallop

Behind the Stanov. Opportunity:

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 puffier

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.

Right 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, kill! ..

“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.

Peasants open up

Milyaga 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 traveled to 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, fools,

Yes, the conscience is ...

It's wonderful to watch how it falls

In such a sober hut

Peasant trouble, -

And I wouldn't 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,

All will be devoured by one!

We have stuck on the third day

The same poor gentleman,

Like you, from outside Moscow.

Writes songs

Tell him the proverb

Zagani riddle.

And there was another - prying,

How much a day do 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 every summer

The fire blows the wind

Peasant labor? ..

There is no measure for Russian hops.

And did they measure 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,

He copes with everything,

Whichever comes.

A man, working, does not think

That will tear strength.

So recklessly over the charka

Thinking that too much

Will you get into the ditch?

Why should you be ashamed to look,

Like drunks lying around

So look, go

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 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 kind

Peasant soul!

It is necessary not to grieve here,

Look around - rejoice!

Ay guys, ay

Page 7 of 11

young ladies,

They know how to take a walk!

They threw up the bones

They drained my darling

And valiant daring

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 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 -

How a clod of earth will fall 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 up? "

- Hung up - 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 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,

Khmelnky, 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,

One that 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, a jealous husband,

Drunk drunk, snoring snoring,

Me, young, young,

And sleepy guards! "

So the young woman cried

Yes, suddenly and jumped off the cart!

"Where?" - shouts a jealous husband,

I 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 shabby! -

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 reinforced themselves.

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 called out the cry:

"Hey! where 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 what is it?"

- 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 put bricks on it.

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 my 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 in a year

Up to a thousand goiter.)

Where did you remember, damned!

I already 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 a chair at the lightest

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 at 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'll 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 strangers,

Dymoglotova villages

Peasant Fedosey. -

If Yermil does not 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

Kept Yermilo 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 a 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,

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, will 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

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:

All over the marketplace

Every peasant

Like the wind, half left

Suddenly it started spinning!

The peasantry forked out

They carry money to Yermila,

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!

The whole amount has already 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 surprised,

Altynnikov turned green,

How is he in full 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 this is what Yermil Ilyich is. -

“Wonderful! - said the pilgrims. -

However, it is advisable to know -

What kind of witchcraft

A man over the whole district

Did you take such power? "

- Not by witchcraft, but by truth.

Have you heard about Hellschina,

Yurlov prince fiefdom?

"You've 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 the 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 great pity 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 out, 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 ordered us from the estate

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: aren't you 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 one go.

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 ...

“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 I went crazy.

No matter how the patrimony asked,

I quit my job

I rented that mill

And he became even worse than before

All people love:

I took for the grinding according to my 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 caress

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)

Mowing machine - old measure 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 if 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.

Airs are 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 ceremony" (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 - "a hat, a hat, a cap, a cap" (VI Dal).

The tavern is “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.

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.

The bogie machine is the main part of a four-wheeled vehicle, a 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. Centre wholesale trade 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" - a popular collection of jokes: "Balakireva complete collection anecdotes of the jester who was at the court of Peter the Great. "

"The English Milord" was the most popular work of the 18th century writer 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.

Tat - “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 hole 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 - state of mind, 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 feeding roosters for sale.

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

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

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From 1863 to 1877, Nekrasov created "Who Lives Well in Russia". The idea, characters, plot changed several times in the course of work. Most likely, the plan was not fully revealed: the author died in 1877. Despite this, "Who lives well in Russia" as folk poem is considered a completed work. It was assumed that there will be 8 parts, but only 4 were completed.

The poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" begins with the presentation of the characters. These heroes are seven men from the villages: Dyryavino, Zaplatovo, Gorelovo, Neurozhayka, Znobishino, Razutovo, Neelovo. They meet and start a conversation about who lives happily and well in Russia. Each of the men has his own opinion. One thinks that the landowner is happy, the other that the official. Merchants, priest, minister, noble boyar, tsar are also called happy men from the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia". The heroes began to argue, lit a fire. It even came to a fight. However, they still fail to come to an agreement.

Self-assembled tablecloth

Suddenly Pakhom completely unexpectedly caught the chick. The little warbler, his mother, asked the peasant to let the chick free. For this she suggested where you can find a self-assembled tablecloth - a very useful thing that will certainly come in handy on a long journey. Thanks to her, the men during the trip did not experience a shortage of food.

Priest's story

The next events continue the work "Who Lives Well in Russia". The heroes decided to find out at any cost who lives happily and cheerfully in Russia. They hit the road. First, they met a priest on their way. The men turned to him with the question of whether he lives happily. Then the pop talked about his life. He believes (in which the men could not disagree with him) that happiness is impossible without peace, honor, wealth. Pop believes that if he had it all, he would be completely happy. However, he is obliged both day and night, in any weather to go wherever he is told - to the dying, to the sick. Every time the priest has to see human grief and suffering. Sometimes he even lacks the strength to take retribution for the service, since people tear the latter away from themselves. Once upon a time, everything was completely different. Pop says that rich landowners rewarded him generously for funeral services, baptisms, and weddings. However, now the rich are far away, and the poor have no money. The priest also has no honor: men do not respect him, as evidenced by many folk songs.

Wanderers go to the fair

Wanderers understand that this person cannot be called happy, which is noted by the author of the work "Who Lives Well in Russia". The heroes set off again and find themselves on the road in the village of Kuzminskoye, at a fair. This village is dirty, albeit rich. There are a lot of establishments in which residents indulge in drunkenness. They spend their last money on drink. For example, the old man has no money left for shoes for his granddaughter, since he drank everything. All this is observed by wanderers from the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" (Nekrasov).

Yakim Nagoy

They also notice fairground entertainment and fights and talk about the fact that the man is forced to drink: this helps to withstand hard work and eternal hardship. An example of this is Yakim Nagoy, a man from the village of Bosovo. He works to death, "drinks half to death." Yakim believes that if there were no drunkenness, there would be great sadness.

The wanderers continue their journey. In the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" Nekrasov says that they want to find happy and cheerful people, they promise to give these lucky people free to drink. Therefore, all sorts of people are trying to pass themselves off as such - a paralyzed former courtyard who licked plates after a master for many years, exhausted workers, beggars. However, travelers themselves understand that these people cannot be called happy.

Ermil Girin

The men once heard about a man named Yermil Girin. His story is further told by Nekrasov, of course, he does not convey all the details. Yermil Girin is a burgomaster who was highly respected, a fair and honest person. He set out to buy out the mill one day. The peasants lent him money without a receipt, they trusted him so much. However, there was a peasant revolt. Now Yermil is in prison.

Obolt-Obolduev's story

Gavrila Obolt-Obolduev, one of the landowners, told about the fate of the nobles after they used to have a lot: serfs, villages, forests. On holidays, nobles could invite serfs into their homes to pray. But after that the master was no longer the rightful owner of the peasants. The pilgrims knew perfectly well how difficult life was at the time of serfdom. But it is also not difficult for them to understand that it became much more difficult for the nobles after the abolition of serfdom. And it’s no easier for the peasants now. The pilgrims understood that they would not be able to find a happy one among men. So they decided to go to women.

The life of Matryona Korchagina

The peasants were told that a peasant woman named Matryona Timofeevna Korchagina lived in one village, whom everyone calls a lucky woman. They found her, and Matryona told the peasants about her life. With this story Nekrasov continues "Who Lives Well in Russia".

Summary the life stories of this woman are as follows. Her childhood was cloudless and happy. She had a hard-working, non-drinking family. Mother cared for and cherished her daughter. When Matryona grew up, she became a beauty. Once a stove-maker from another village, Philip Korchagin, approached her. Matryona told how he persuaded her to marry him. This was the only bright memory of this woman in her entire life, who was hopeless and dreary, although her husband treated her well by peasant standards: she almost never beat her. However, he went to the city to work. Matryona lived in her father-in-law's house. Everyone here treated her badly. The only one who was kind to the peasant woman was the very old grandfather Savely. He told her that he had ended up in hard labor for the murder of the manager.

Soon Matryona gave birth to Demushka - a sweet and beautiful child... She could not part with him for a minute. However, the woman had to work in a field where her mother-in-law did not allow her to take the child. Grandfather Savely watched the baby. He once did not look after Demushka, and the child was eaten by pigs. We came to investigate from the city, in front of the mother's eyes, they opened the baby. This was a hard blow for Matryona.

Then five children were born to her, all boys. Matryona was a kind and caring mother. One day Fedot, one of the children, was tending sheep. One of them was carried away by a she-wolf. This was the fault of the shepherd, who should have been punished with whips. Then Matryona begged them to beat her instead of her son.

She also said that one day they wanted to take her husband into the soldiers, although it was a violation of the law. Then Matryona went to the city, being pregnant. Here the woman met Elena Aleksandrovna, the kind governor who helped her, and Matryona's husband was released.

The peasants considered Matryona a happy woman. However, after listening to her story, the men realized that she could not be called happy. There was too much suffering and misfortune in her life. Matryona Timofeevna herself also says that a woman in Russia, especially a peasant woman, cannot be happy. Her lot is very hard.

Survivor of the mind landowner

The way to the Volga is kept by peasant wanderers. Here is mowing. People are busy with hard work. Suddenly an amazing scene: the mowers are humiliated, they please the old master. It turned out that the landowner He could not realize what had already been canceled. Therefore, his relatives persuaded the peasants to behave as if it was still in effect. They were promised for this The men agreed, but were deceived once again. When the old master died, the heirs did not give them anything.

The story of Jacob

Repeatedly along the way, pilgrims listen to folk songs - the hungry, the soldier's and others, as well as different stories... They remembered, for example, the story of Jacob, the faithful servant. He always tried to please and please the master, who humiliated and beat the slave. However, this led to the fact that Jacob loved him even more. The master's legs gave out in old age. Jacob continued to look after him as if he were his own child. But he received no thanks for this. Grisha, a young guy, Jacob's nephew, wanted to marry one beauty - a serf girl. Out of jealousy, the old master sent Grisha into recruits. Yakov from this grief fell into drunkenness, but then returned to the master and took revenge. He took him to the forest and hanged himself in front of the master. Since his legs were paralyzed, he could not go anywhere. The master sat all night under the corpse of Yakov.

Grigory Dobosklonov - people's defender

This and other stories make men think that they will not be able to find happy ones. However, they learn about Grigory Dobrosklonov, a seminarian. This is the son of a sexton, who saw the suffering and hopeless life of the people from childhood. He made a choice in his early youth, decided that he would give his strength to the struggle for the happiness of his people. Gregory is educated and smart. He understands that Russia is strong and will cope with all troubles. In the future, Gregory will have a glorious path, the famous name of the people's defender, "consumption and Siberia."

The peasants hear about this intercessor, but they do not yet have an understanding that such people can make others happy. This will not happen soon.

Heroes of the poem

Nekrasov portrayed various segments of the population. Simple peasants become the protagonists of the work. They were freed by the 1861 reform. But their life after the abolition of serfdom did not change much. The same hard work, a hopeless life. After the reform, moreover, the peasants who had their own land found themselves in an even more difficult situation.

The characterization of the heroes of the work "Who lives well in Russia" can be supplemented by the fact that the author has created surprisingly reliable images of peasants. Their characters are very accurate, although contradictory. Russian people have not only kindness, strength and integrity of character. They retained at the genetic level obsequiousness, servility, readiness to obey a despot and tyrant. The coming of Grigory Dobrosklonov, a new man, is a symbol of the fact that honest, noble, smart people appear among the downtrodden peasantry. Let their fate be unenviable and difficult. Thanks to them, self-awareness will arise among the peasant masses, and people will finally be able to fight for happiness. This is what the heroes and the author of the poem dream about. ON. N. A. Nekrasov "Who Lives Well in Russia" was written with such sympathy for the people that today it makes us empathize with their fate at that difficult time.

Centuries change, and the name of the poet N. Nekrasov - this knight of the spirit - remains unforgettable. In his work, Nekrasov revealed many aspects of Russian life, talked about the peasant grief, made him feel that under the yoke of need and darkness lurk still undeveloped heroic forces.

The poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" is the pivotal work of N.A. Nekrasov. It is about peasant truth, about "old" and "new", about "slaves" and "free", about "rebellion" and "patience."

What is the history of the creation of the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia"? The 60s of the 19th century were characterized by an increase in political reaction. Nekrasov needed to defend the Sovremennik magazine and the course followed by the publication. The struggle for the purity of the chosen direction demanded the activation of the Nekrasov muse. One of the main lines, which Nekrasov adhered to, and which met the tasks of that time, was the people's, peasant. The work on the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" is the main tribute to the peasant theme.

The creative tasks that Nekrasov faced when creating the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" should be considered in the focus of literary and public life 60-70s XIX century. After all, the poem was created not one year, but more than ten years, and the moods that possessed Nekrasov in the early 60s changed, just like life itself changed. The beginning of writing the poem falls on 1863. By that time, Emperor Alexander II had already signed a manifesto on the abolition of serfdom.

The work on the poem was preceded by years of collecting bit by bit of creative material. The author decided not just to write a work of art, but a work that is accessible and understandable common people, a kind of "people's book", which shows with the utmost completeness an entire era in the life of the people.

What is genre originality the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia"? Literary experts identify this work of Nekrasov as an "epic poem". This definition dates back to the opinion of Nekrasov's contemporaries. An epic is a large piece of fiction of an epic nature. According to the genre "Who Lives Well in Russia", the work is lyric-epic. It combines epic foundations with lyric and dramatic. The dramatic element in general permeates many of Nekrasov's works, the poet's passion for drama is reflected in his poetry.

The compositional form of the work "Who Lives Well in Russia" is rather peculiar. Composition is the construction, arrangement of all the elements of a work of art. Compositionally, the poem is built according to the laws of the classical epic: it is a collection of relatively autonomous parts and chapters. The unifying motive is the motive of the road: seven men (seven is the most mysterious and magic number), trying to find an answer to the question, which is essentially philosophical: who lives well in Russia? Nekrasov does not lead us to a certain climax in the poem, does not push us towards the final event and does not activate the action. His task, as a major epic artist, is to reflect aspects of Russian life, to draw the image of the people, to show the variety of people's roads, directions, ways. This creative work of Nekrasov is a large lyric-epic form. It involves a lot of characters, a lot of storylines are deployed.

The main idea of ​​the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" is that the people are worthy of happiness and it makes sense to fight for happiness. The poet was sure of this, and with all his work he presented evidence of this. The happiness of one, separately taken individual is not enough, it is not a solution to the problem. The poem appeals to thoughts about the embodiment of happiness for the whole people, about "A Feast for the Whole World."

The poem begins with the "Prologue", in which the author tells how seven men from different villages met on the high road. A dispute arose between them about who life is better in Russia. Each of the disputants expressed their opinion, and no one wanted to give in. As a result, the disputants decided to go on a journey in order to find out first-hand who and how life in Russia and to find out which of them was right in this dispute. From the bird warbler, the wanderers learned where the magic self-assembled tablecloth is located, which will feed and water them in long journey... Having found a self-assembled tablecloth and convinced of its magical abilities, seven men set off on a long journey.

In the chapters of the first part of the poem, seven pilgrims met people from different classes on their way: priest, peasants at a rural fair, landowner and asked them the question - how happy are they? Neither the priest nor the landowner believed that their life was full of happiness. They complained that after the abolition of serfdom, their lives had deteriorated. At the rural fair, fun reigned, but when the wanderers began to ask the people dispersed after the fair how happy each of them was, it turned out that only a few of them could be called truly happy.

In the chapters of the second part, united by the title "The Last One", the wanderers meet with the peasants of the village of Bolshie Vakhlaki, who live in a rather strange situation. Despite the abolition of serfdom, they portrayed serfs in the presence of the landowner, as in the old days. The old landowner reacted painfully to the reform of 1861 and his sons, fearing to be left without an inheritance, persuaded the peasants to portray serfs until the old man died. At the end of this part of the poem, it is said that after the death of the old prince, his heirs deceived the peasants and started a lawsuit with them, not wanting to give up valuable meadows.

After talking with the Vakhlak men, the travelers decided to look for happy people among women. In the chapters from the third part of the poem under common name"Peasant" they met with a resident of the village of Klin, Matryona Timofeevna Korchagina, who was popularly nicknamed "the governor's wife". Matryona Timofeevna told them without concealment her whole long-suffering life. At the end of her story, Matryona advised the pilgrims not to look for happy people among Russian women, while telling them the parable that the keys to women's happiness were lost, and no one could find them.

The wandering of seven peasants, who are looking for happiness throughout Russia, continues, and they find themselves at a feast arranged by the inhabitants of the village of Valakhchina. This part of the poem was called "A Feast for the Whole World." At this feast, the seven pilgrims come to the realization that the question for which they set out on a campaign across Russia is of interest not only to them, but to the entire Russian people.

In the last chapter of the poem, the author gives the floor young generation... One of the participants in the folk feast, the son of a parish deacon, Grigory Dobrosklonov, unable to fall asleep after stormy disputes, goes to wander around his native land and the song "Rus" is born in his head, which became the ideological finale of the poem:

"You are wretched,
You are abundant
You and downtrodden
You are omnipotent
Mother Russia! "

Returning home, and having recited this song to his brother, Gregory tries to fall asleep, but his imagination continues to work and a new song is born. If the seven pilgrims could find out what this new song is about, they could return home with a light heart, for the goal of the journey would have been achieved, since Grisha's new song was about the embodiment of the people's happiness.

Concerning the problematics of the poem "Who lives well in Russia", we can say the following: two levels of problematic (conflict) emerge in the poem - socio-historical (the results of the peasant reform) - the conflict grows in the first part and persists in the second, and deep, philosophical (salt national character), which appears in the second and dominates in the third part. Problems raised by Nekrasov in the poem
(the chains of slavery have been removed, but whether the peasant lot has been eased, whether the oppression of the peasants has stopped, whether the contradictions in society have been eliminated, whether the people are happy) - will not be resolved for a long period.

Analyzing the poem by N.A. Nekrasov "Who Lives Well in Russia", it is important to say that the main poetic dimension of this work is a three-legged, non-rhymed iambic. Moreover, at the end of the line, after the stressed syllable, there are two unstressed (dactylic clause). In some parts of the work, Nekrasov also uses iambic tetrameter. This choice of poetic size was due to the need to present the text in a folk style, but with the preservation of the classical literary canons of that time. The folk songs included in the poem, as well as the songs of Grigory Dobrosklonov, are written using three-syllable sizes.

Nekrasov strove to ensure that the language of the poem was understandable to an ordinary Russian person. Therefore, he refused to use the lexicon of classical poetry of that time, saturating the work with the words of common speech: "village", "breveshko", "empty dance", "yarmonka" and many others. This made it possible to make the poem understandable to any peasant.

In the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" Nekrasov uses numerous means artistic expression... These include such epithets as "the sun is red", "shadows are black", "people are poor," a free heart "," a calm conscience "," an invincible force. " There are also comparisons in the poem: "I jumped out like a disheveled one", "yellow eyes burn like ... fourteen candles!"

Metaphors found in the poem: "the earth lies", "spring ... friendly", "the warbler is crying", "the turbulent village", "the boyars are cypress."

Metonyms - "the whole path has quieted down", "the crowded square has quieted down", "When a man ... will carry Belinsky and Gogol from the bazaar."

In the poem there was a place for such means of artistic expression as irony: "... a tale about the holy fool landowner: I think he hiccups!" and sarcasm: “Pig is proud: it scratched Oh master's porch!”.

Is in the poem and stylistic figures... These include addresses: "Well, uncle!", "Wait a minute!", "Come, desired! ..", "Oh people, Russian people!" and exclamations: “Chu! horse snoring! "," And at least not this bread! "," Eh! Eh! "," At least swallow a pen! "

Folklore expressions - at the "fair", apparently invisible.

The language of the poem is peculiar, adorned with sayings, sayings, dialects, "common" words: "mlada-young", "virgin", "pogudka".

I remember the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" by the fact that, despite the difficult times in which it was created and which it describes, it shows a positive, life-affirming beginning. The people deserve happiness - this is the main theorem proved by Nekrasov. The poem helps people to understand, to become better, to fight for their happiness. Nekrasov is a thinker, a person with a unique social instinct. He touched the depths folk life, pulled from its bowels a scattering of original Russian characters. Nekrasov was able to show the fullness of human experiences. He strove to comprehend the full depth of human existence.

Nekrasov solved his creative tasks outside the box. His work is imbued with the ideas of humanism.

© Lebedev Yu.V., introductory article, comments, 1999

© Godin I.M., heirs, illustrations, 1960

© Series design. Publishing House "Children's Literature", 2003

* * *

Yu Lebedev
Russian odyssey

In the "Diary of a Writer" for 1877, F. M. Dostoevsky noted characteristic feature that appeared in the Russian people of the post-reform era - "this is a multitude, an extraordinary modern multitude of new people, a new root of Russian people who need truth, one truth without conventional lies, and who, in order to achieve this truth, will give everything decisively." Dostoevsky saw in them "the advancing future Russia."

At the very beginning of the 20th century, another writer, V.G. Korolenko, took away from his summer trip to the Urals a discovery that struck him as The North Pole, - in the distant Ural villages there were rumors about the Belovodsk kingdom and their own religious and scientific expedition was being prepared. " Among ordinary Cossacks, the conviction spread and grew stronger that “somewhere out there,“ beyond the distant weather, ”“ beyond the valleys, beyond the mountains, beyond the wide seas ”there is a“ blessed country ”in which, by the providence of God and the chances of history, has been preserved and flourishes throughout inviolability is a complete and complete formula of grace. This is real Dreamland of all ages and peoples, colored only by the Old Believer mood. In it, planted by the Apostle Thomas, blooms true faith, with churches, bishops, patriarchs and pious kings ... The kingdom knows neither thief, nor murder, nor self-interest, since true faith engenders true piety there. "

It turns out, back in the late 1860s Don Cossacks were written off with the Urals, collected a rather significant amount and equipped the Cossack Varsonofy Baryshnikov with two comrades to search for this promised land. Baryshnikov set off through Constantinople to Asia Minor, then to the Malabar coast, and finally to the East Indies ... The expedition returned with disappointing news: she could not find Belovodye. Thirty years later, in 1898, the dream of the Belovodsk kingdom flares up with renewed vigor, funds are found, a new pilgrimage is equipped. The "deputation" of the Cossacks on May 30, 1898, sits on a steamer, sailing from Odessa to Constantinople.

“From that day, in fact, the trip of the deputies of the Urals abroad to the Belovodsk kingdom began, and among the international crowd of merchants, military men, scientists, tourists, diplomats traveling around the world out of curiosity or in search of money, fame and pleasure, three immigrants were mixed up, as it were from another world, looking for ways to the fabulous kingdom of Belovodsk. Korolenko described in detail all the vicissitudes of this unusual journey, in which, for all the curiosity and strangeness of the planned enterprise, the same Russia, noted by Dostoevsky, appeared. honest people, "Who only need the truth", whose "striving for honesty and truth is unshakable and indestructible, and for the word of truth, each of them will give his life and all his advantages."

Not only the top of Russian society was drawn into the great spiritual pilgrimage towards the end of the 19th century, the whole of Russia, all of its people rushed to it.

"These Russian homeless wanderers," Dostoevsky remarked in his speech about Pushkin, "continue their wanderings to this day and, it seems, will not disappear for a long time." For a long time, "for the Russian wanderer needs precisely the universal happiness in order to calm down - he will not be reconciled cheaper".

“There was, approximately, such a case: I knew one person who believed in a righteous land,” said another wanderer in our literature, Luke, from M. Gorky's play “At the Bottom”. - There must, he said, be a righteous country ... in that, they say, land - special people inhabit ... good people! They respect each other, they help each other - very easily - they help ... and everything is gloriously good with them! And so the man was still going to go ... to seek this righteous land. He was poor, he lived poorly ... and when it was already so difficult for him that even lie down and die, he did not lose his spirit, and everything happened, only grinned and said: “Nothing! I will endure! A few more - I’ll wait ... and then I’ll give up this whole life and - I’ll go to the righteous land ... “He had one joy - this land ... And to this place - in Siberia it was something - they sent an exiled scientist ... with books, with plans he, a scientist, and with all sorts of things ... The man says to the scientist: “Show me, do mercy, where is the righteous land and how is the road there?” Now the scientist opened the books, laid out plans ... looked and looked - no nowhere righteous land! "Everything is true, all the lands are shown, but the righteous one is not!"

The man does not believe ... It must, he says, be ... look better! Otherwise, he says, your books and plans are useless if there is no righteous land ... The scientist is offended. My plans, he says, are the most correct, but there is no righteous land at all. Well, then the man got angry - how so? He lived and lived, endured, endured and believed everything - there is! but according to the plans it turns out - no! Robbery! .. And he says to the scientist: “Oh, you ... a bastard! You are a scoundrel, not a scientist ... “Yes, in his ear - once! Moreover! .. ( After a pause.) And after that I went home - and hanged myself! "

The 1860s marked a sharp historical turning point in the destinies of Russia, which from now on broke with the subordinate, "homebody" existence and the whole world, the whole people set off on a long path of spiritual quest, marked by ups and downs, fatal temptations and deviations, but the righteous path is precisely in passion , in the sincerity of his inescapable desire to find the truth. And perhaps for the first time the poetry of Nekrasov responded to this deep process, which embraced not only the “top”, but also the “bottom” of society.

1

The poet began work on a grandiose plan " folk books"In 1863, and ended up mortally ill in 1877, with a bitter consciousness of incompleteness, incompleteness of his plans:" One thing that I deeply regret is that I did not finish my poem "Who Lives Well in Russia." It “should have included all the experience given to Nikolai Alekseevich by studying the people, all the information about him accumulated“ by word ”over twenty years,” GI Uspensky recalled about his conversations with Nekrasov.

However, the question of the "incompleteness" of "Who lives well in Russia" is very controversial and problematic. First, the poet's own confessions are subjectively exaggerated. It is known that a writer always has a feeling of dissatisfaction, and the larger the idea, the sharper it is. Dostoevsky wrote about The Brothers Karamazov: "I myself think that even one tenth of the part failed to express what I wanted." But do we dare, on this basis, to regard Dostoevsky's novel as a fragment of an unrealized plan? The same is with “Who lives well in Russia”.

Secondly, the poem "Who Lives Well in Russia" was conceived as an epic, that is, a work of art depicting, with the maximum degree of completeness and objectivity, an entire era in the life of the people. Since people's life is boundless and inexhaustible in its countless manifestations, an epic in any of its varieties (epic poem, epic novel) is characterized by incompleteness, incompleteness. This is its specific difference from other forms of poetic art.

"This tricky song
He will sing to the word,
Who is the whole earth, baptized Rus,
It will pass from end to end. "
Himself her Christ's saint
Didn't finish - sleeps eternal sleep -

this is how Nekrasov expressed his understanding of the epic intention in the poem "The Peddlers". The epic can be continued indefinitely, but it is also possible to put an end to any high segment of its path.

Until now, researchers of Nekrasov's work argue about the sequence of the arrangement of the parts "Who lives well in Russia", since the dying poet did not have time to make final orders on this matter.

It is noteworthy that this dispute itself unwittingly confirms the epic character of "Who lives well in Russia." The composition of this work is built according to the laws of the classical epic: it consists of separate, relatively autonomous parts and chapters. Outwardly, these parts are connected by the theme of the road: seven men-truth-seekers wander through Russia, trying to resolve the question that haunts them: who lives well in Russia? In the "Prologue", as it were, a clear scheme of the journey is outlined - meetings with a landowner, an official, a merchant, a minister and a tsar. However, the epic lacks a clear and unequivocal purposefulness. Nekrasov does not force the action, is in no hurry to bring it to an all-decisive result. As an epic artist, he strives to fully recreate life, to reveal all the diversity folk characters, all indirectness, all the winding of folk paths, paths and roads.

The world in the epic narrative appears as it is - disordered and unexpected, devoid of straightforward movement. The author of the epic admits "retreats, trips into the past, jumps somewhere to the side, to the side." According to the definition of the modern literary theorist GD Gachev, “the epic is like a child walking through the cabinet of curiosities of the universe. Here his attention was attracted by one hero, or a building, or a thought - and the author, forgetting about everything, plunges into him; then he was distracted by another - and he just as completely surrenders to him. But this is not just a compositional principle, not just the specificity of the plot in the epic ... Anyone who, while narrating, makes “digressions”, for an unexpectedly long time lingers on this or that subject; the one who succumbs to the temptation to describe both this and that and chokes with greed, sinning against the pace of the narrative - he thereby speaks of the extravagance, the abundance of being, that he (being) has nowhere to rush. Otherwise: it expresses the idea that being reigns over the principle of time (while the dramatic form, on the contrary, emphasizes the power of time - it’s not for nothing that, it would seem, only a “formal” requirement for the unity of time was born there). ”

The fabulous motives introduced into the epic "Who Lives Well in Russia" allow Nekrasov to freely and naturally handle time and space, easily transfer action from one end of Russia to another, slow down or speed up time according to fabulous laws. What unites the epic is not an external plot, not a movement towards an unambiguous result, but an internal plot: slowly, step by step, the contradictory but irreversible growth of the people's self-awareness, which has not yet come to a conclusion, is still in the difficult paths of quest, becomes clear in it. In this sense, the plot-compositional looseness of the poem is not accidental: it expresses with its incompleteness the diversity and diversity of folk life, which thinks over itself in different ways, differently evaluates its place in the world, its purpose.

In an effort to recreate the moving panorama of folk life in its entirety, Nekrasov uses all the wealth of oral folk art... But the folklore element in the epic expresses the gradual growth of national self-awareness: the fairy-tale motifs of the Prologue are replaced by the epic epic, then the lyrical folk songs in The Peasant Woman, and, finally, the songs of Grisha Dobrosklonov in The Feast for the Whole World, striving to become folk and already partially accepted and understood by the people. The peasants listen to his songs, sometimes nod in agreement, but they haven’t heard the last song, “Rus,” yet: he hasn’t sung it to them yet. And therefore the ending of the poem is open to the future, is not allowed.

Our pilgrims should be under the same roof,
If only they could know what happened to Grisha.

But the pilgrims did not hear the song "Rus", which means they still did not understand what the "embodiment of the happiness of the people" is. It turns out that Nekrasov did not finish his song, not only because death prevented him. The folk life itself did not finish his songs in those years. More than a hundred years have passed since then, and the song begun by the great poet about the Russian peasantry is still being sung. In "The Feast" only a glimpse of the coming happiness is outlined, of which the poet dreams of, realizing how many roads lie ahead before its actual incarnation. The incompleteness of "Who lives well in Russia" is principled and artistically significant as a sign of a folk epic.

"Who lives well in Russia" and as a whole, and in each of its parts, resembles a peasant worldly gathering, which is the most complete expression of democratic people's self-government. At such a gathering, the inhabitants of one village or several villages that were part of the "world" decided all issues of common worldly life. The meeting had nothing to do with a modern meeting. The chairperson leading the discussion was absent. Each member of the community, at will, entered into a conversation or skirmish, defending his point of view. The principle of general agreement was used instead of voting. The dissatisfied were persuaded or retreated, and in the course of the discussion a "worldly sentence" was ripening. If there was no general agreement, the meeting was postponed to the next day. Gradually, in the course of heated debates, a unanimous opinion matured, agreement was sought and found.

An employee of Nekrasov's "Otechestvennye zapiski", populist writer N. N. Zlatovratsky described the original peasant life: “It is already the second day since we have been gathering after gathering. You look out the window, now in one or the other end of the village, the owners, old people, children are crowding: some are sitting, others are standing in front of them, hands behind their backs and attentively listening to someone. This someone waves his arms, bends his whole body, shouts something very convincingly, pauses for a few minutes and then again begins to convince. But then suddenly they object to him, they object somehow at once, the voices rise higher and higher, shout at their full throats, as befits such a vast hall, such as the surrounding meadows and fields, everyone says, not embarrassed by anyone or anything, as befits a free a bunch of equal persons. No the slightest sign formality. Sergeant Major Maxim Maksimych himself stands somewhere on the side, as the most invisible member of our community ... Here everything goes clean, everything becomes an edge; if someone, out of cowardice or from calculation, decides to get away with silence, he will be mercilessly taken out to clean water... Yes, and these faint-hearted, at especially important gatherings, there are very few. I have seen the most meek, most unrequited men who<…>at gatherings, in moments of general excitement, they were completely transformed and<…>gained such courage that they managed to outstrip the obviously brave men. In the moments of its climax, the gathering is made simply by open mutual confession and mutual exposure, a manifestation of the broadest publicity. "

The entire epic poem of Nekrasov is a worldly gathering that is flaring up, gradually gaining strength. It reaches its pinnacle in the final Feast for the Whole World. However, a general "worldly judgment" is still not passed. Only the path to it is outlined, many of the initial obstacles have been removed, and on many points there has been a movement towards a general agreement. But there is no result, life has not been stopped, the gatherings have not been stopped, the epic is open to the future. For Nekrasov, the process itself is important here, it is important that the peasantry not only thought about the meaning of life, but also embarked on a difficult, long path of seeking truth. Let's try to take a closer look at it, moving from the "Prologue. Part One "to" The Peasant Woman "," The Last One "and" A Feast for the Whole World. "

2

The Prologue tells of the meeting of seven men as a great epic event.

In what year - count
In which land - guess
On a pole track
Seven men got together ...

So epic and fairytale heroes converged for a battle or for a feast of honors. Time and space acquire an epic scope in the poem: the action is carried over to the whole of Russia. The tightened province, Terpigorev uyezd, Empty volost, the villages of Zaplatovo, Dyryavino, Razutovo, Znobishino, Gorelovo, Neelovo, Neurozhaina can be attributed to any of the Russian provinces, counties, volosts and villages. The general sign of post-reform ruin has been seized. And the question itself, which agitated the peasants, concerns the whole of Russia - peasant, noble, merchant. Therefore, the quarrel that arose between them is not an ordinary event, but great controversy... In the soul of every farmer, with his own private destiny, with his everyday interests, a question has awakened that concerns everyone, the entire world of the people.

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!

Each peasant had his own path, and suddenly they found a common path: the question of happiness united the people. And therefore, we are no longer ordinary peasants with their own individual destiny and personal interests, but protectors for the entire peasant world, truth-seekers. The number "seven" in folklore is magical. Seven Wanderers- an image of a large epic scale. The fabulous coloring of "Prologue" raises the narrative above everyday life, above the peasant life and gives the action an epic universality.

The fabulous atmosphere in "Prologue" is ambiguous. Giving the events a nationwide sound, it also turns into a convenient method for the poet to characterize the people's self-consciousness. Note that Nekrasov plays with the fairy tale. In general, his treatment of folklore is more free and relaxed in comparison with the poems "Peddlers" and "Moroz, Red Nose." And he treats the people differently, often making fun of the peasants, provoking readers, paradoxically sharpening the people's view of things, laughing at the limited peasant world outlook. The intonation structure of the narrative in "Who Lives Well in Russia" is very flexible and rich: here there is a good-natured author's smile, and condescension, and a slight irony, and a bitter joke, and lyrical regret, and sorrow, and meditation, and an appeal. The intonational and stylistic polyphonic nature of the narrative, in its own way, reflects a new phase of folk life. Before us is the post-reform peasantry, which has broken with the immovable patriarchal existence, with the age-old everyday and spiritual settled life. This is already a wandering Russia with awakened self-awareness, noisy, discordant, prickly and uncompromising, prone to quarrels and disputes. And the author does not stand aside from her, but turns into an equal participant in her life. He then rises above the disputants, then imbued with sympathy for one of the disputing parties, then touched, then indignant. As Russia lives in disputes, in search of truth, so the author is in an intense dialogue with her.

In the literature about "Who lives well in Russia" one can find the assertion that the dispute of the seven pilgrims that opens the poem corresponds to the original compositional plan, from which the poet subsequently retreated. Already in the first part, there was a deviation from the intended plot, and instead of meeting with the rich and noble truth seekers began to question the crowd of people.

But this deviation immediately occurs at the "upper" level. For some reason, instead of the landowner and the official, whom the men had scheduled for the survey, a meeting with the priest takes place. Is this a coincidence?

Let us first of all note that the "formula" of the dispute proclaimed by the peasants signifies not so much the initial intention as the level of national self-awareness, which is manifested in this dispute. And Nekrasov cannot but show the reader his limitations: men understand happiness primitively and reduce it to a well-fed life, material security. What is worth, for example, such a candidate for the role of a lucky man as the "merchant" is proclaimed, and even "fat-bellied"! And behind the dispute between the peasants - who lives happily, freely in Russia? - Immediately, but still gradually, muffled, another, much more significant and important question arises, which constitutes the soul of the epic poem - how to understand human happiness, where to look for it and what does it consist of?

In the final chapter "A Feast for the Whole World" through the mouth of Grisha Dobrosklonov, the following assessment is given current state popular life: "The Russian people are gathering strength and learning to be a citizen."

In fact, this formula contains the main pathos of the poem. It is important for Nekrasov to show how the forces that unite him are ripening in the people and what kind of civic orientation they acquire. The idea of ​​the poem by no means boils down to making the pilgrims carry out successive meetings according to the program they have outlined. Much more important here is a completely different question: what is happiness in its eternal, Orthodox Christian understanding and is the Russian people capable of uniting peasant "politics" with Christian morality?

Therefore, folklore motifs in the Prologue play a dual role. On the one hand, the poet uses them to give the beginning of the work a high epic sound, and on the other, to emphasize the limited consciousness of the disputants who deviate in their idea of ​​happiness from the righteous to the evil ways. Let's remember that Nekrasov spoke about this more than once for a long time, for example, in one of the versions of "Song of Eremushka", created back in 1859.

Change pleasures
Living does not mean eating and drinking.
A better world has aspirations
There are nobler blessings.
Despise evil ways:
There is debauchery and vanity.
Honor the Covenants Forever Right
And learn them from Christ.

The same two paths, sung over Russia by the angel of mercy in "A Feast for the Whole World", are now opening up for the Russian people, who are celebrating commemoration on the fortifications and faced with a choice.

In the midst of the world
For a free heart
There are two ways.
Weigh the proud strength
Suspension of solid will:
Which way to go?

This song sounds over Russia coming to life from the mouth of the messenger of the Creator himself, and the fate of the people will directly depend on which path the pilgrims will take after long wanderings and meandering along Russian country roads.