Nikolay Gogol - Ganz Kühelgarten: verse. Decembrist uprising and link

Kyhehelbecker Wilhelm Karlovich (1797 - 1846), poet, prose.

Born in the noble family of the divorce Germans.
His father is Karl von Kyhehelbecker, from the Saxon nobles, for some time was approached by Paul I. Mother, nee Lomen, was in the property with M.B. Barclay de Tolly. In one of the letters Kyhehelbecker He admitted: "For the Father and Mother I am German, but not in language: up to six years I did not know a word in German; Natural language is Russian ..."
Childhood spent in Estonia, where the family settled after the father's resignation.

In 1808 was given to a private board, and after three years he entered the Tsarskoyel Lyceum, where Pushkin and Delvig became his friends.
Wilhelm Kyhehelbecer. In life, it was largely lucky only once, when in 1811 he became a lycende, classmate Pushkin. All his subsequent life is a series of defeats, failures, physical and mental suffering.

In the lyceum over him mocked. Non-spare appearance: high height, thinness, long nose, tag-uhth; Non-desiccation: simpleness and quick temper; Non-spot verses: very highly high and heavy - all this was ridiculous in the most ruthless way. Wilhelma is supplied with a train of offensive nicknames: Kühl, Kühel, Gezel, Becherkühel.

"Do you know what a behelkyuheriad is? Behelkühcheriada is a long strip of earth, a country producing a great bargaining verses; she has a" deaf ear "province," the young too washed the young withered over Kyhelbecker. And he brought him to the point that the clumsy long-grade Wilhelm tried to be drowned in the Tsarskoye Pond, Nasil pulled out - wet, unfortunate, stale smelly tina. However, the lyceumists did not love anyone as Wilhelm. Pushkin and Pushkin became his friends:

Muses service does not tolerate fuss;
Great should be
great:
But youth us
advises Lukovo,
And the noisy are pleased with the dreams:
Make a friend - but late!
And sad
Watch back
traces without seeing there.
Say, Wilhelm,
it was not with us
My brother is native on the muse
on destiny?

When released from lyceum Kyhehelbecker Gets chin titular advisor, silver medal and enviable certificate. Together with Pushkin and future Chancellor Prince A.M. Gorchakov he becomes an official russian Foreign Policy. In 1820, Wilhelm smiles fate: as a personal secretary, he accompanies on a trip around Europe Ober-Chamber A.L. Naryshkin. In Germany Kühelbecker Takes the Great Goethe, once friendly with his father.
In Paris Kyhehelbecker Speakers a lecture on Russian: "The history of the Russian language, perhaps will reveal the nature of the people speaking on it. Free, strong, rich, it originated earlier than the steadfast slavery and despotism established, and subsequently represented a permanent antidote oppression and feudalism. "

Free words were noticed by "who need", Kühelbecker withdrawn B. Russia. He returns to the service, it turns out general Yermolov in the Caucasus, getting acquainted there with A.S. Griboyedov, has time to shoot a duel ... Ah, no wonder the lyceum mentor wrote about him: "angry, quick-tempered and frivolous; not smoothly expressed and strange in circulation ...".

Friends helped him enter the service for General Yermolov, and he went to the Caucasus in 1821, he met in Tiflis and made friends with A. Griboedov. However, in May 1822, he filed a petition about the dismissal and left for his sister to the procurement of the Smolensk province. Here there are several lyrical poems, ends the tragedy of Argivoyean, composes the Poem "Cassandra", begins the poem about Griboedov.

The circumstances of the material order prompted him in the summer of 1823 to come in. The poet became close to V. Odoyevsky, together with whom Mnemozin's almanacs, where Pushkin, Baratinsky, languages \u200b\u200bwere printed. Kyhehelbecker He writes poems about the uprising in Greece, to the death of Byron, the messages of Yermolov, Griboedov, the poem "Fate Russian poets".

December 14, 1825 Wilhelm Kyhehelbecker - On the Senate Square. He is trying to shoot in the Grand Duke Mikhail Pavlovich, but the pistol gives off twice. Be a pistol, hanging Kyhehelbecer. July 13, 1826 at the Petropavlovka Kronverka - Sixth, with Pestel, Ryleev , Kakhovsky. It's not even Pushkin sigh: "And I could ...", Kyhehelbecker I could, and got to the maximum: ten years in the stone bags of Shlisselburg, Dinaburg, Revel, Svetaborg.

After ten years of a single conclusion, he was exiled to Siberia. However, in the fortress, and in the link he continued to engage in creativity, creating such works as the poem "Sirota", tragedy "proof Lyapunov "And" Izhorsky ", the story" last column ", the fairy tale" Ivan, the Kuppetsky Son ", the memories of" Shadow Ryleev "," Memory of Griboedov ". Some of his works of Pushkina managed to printed under the pseudonym. After the death of his great friend Kyhehelbecker Lost this opportunity.

In 1837, Wilhelm Karlovich married a throttle Ivanovna Ahnieva, daughter of the Barguzinsky postman. Their family life was not happy: the firstborn was born dead, stirred the need, extorted the test. In 1845. Kyhehelbecker Elephant. He died in Tobolsk, August 11, 1846. There, in Tobolsk, he constantly visited his local modest official Peter Ershov - author of the immortal "horse-humpback". Pushkin, Delvig, Pushchin, Yermolov, Griboedov, Goethe, Ershov - What a circle of communication!

Literary heritage Kühelbecker Hugely, but almost no descendants. As a poet, he is perhaps uninteresting. But the charm of his personality is undoubtedly - reread "Kühl" Yuri Tynyanov.

Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol

Ganz Kyhehelgarton

Idyll in the pictures

The proposed essay would never see light if the circumstances important for the author alone did not prompted him to that. This is a work of his eighteen years of youth. Not accepting to judge anything about dignity, nor about his flaws, and giving it an enlightened public, let's just say that many of the pictures of this idyll, unfortunately, did not survive; They probably connected the smaller passages and drawn the image of the main character. At least we are proud to see the opportunity to get acquainted with the creation of a young talent.

Picture I.

Light. That looked the village,

Houses, gardens. Everything can be seen, everything is light.

All in gold shines bell tower

And the beam shines on an old fence.

Everything was captivated

Down head, in silver water:

Fence, and house, and kindergarten in it are such.

Everything moves in silver water:

Shines the arch, and the waves of the cloud go,

And the forest is alive here just does not make noise.

On the shore far away in the sea,

Under the shadow of Lip, there is a cozy house

Pastor. In it for a long time, the old man lives.

Ovensno he and an old roof

Caught up; Tube all shocked;

And flows long flowery moss

By the walls; and the windows were mad;

But somehow cute in it, and for nothing

The old man did not give him.

Here is the linden,

Where he loves to relax, the identity shakes.

But now it is green adhesives

From the turne of fresh.

In duplicated nonorah

Its nest birds, old house

And the garden is a cheerful songbook.

Pastor did not sleep all night, and before the dawn

I went to sleep on clean air;

And he dreamed under lime in old chairs,

And the breeze is fed to him,

And white spots of the hair.

But who is a great fit?

As morning fresh, burns

And does his eyes bring to him?

Charmingly worth it?

Look at how cute wakes

Her lilac hand

His touching slightly,

And go back to the world of our nudit.

And at halflza he looks,

And now the neighbor says:

"On a wonderful, wonderful visitor!

You visited my abode!

Why is the secret melancholy

I'm going through the whole soul,

And on the gray old old man

Your image wonder

Wased is strange?

You see: I'm already sick,

Long ago cooled to the living

Myself a cellar in himself for a long time I,

From the day I'm waiting for peace on day,

About him and thinking is used to

My tongue is about him.

Why are you, a young guest,

To myself so fameful to go?

Or, the dwelling of the sky-paradise,

You give me hope,

I call me in heaven?

Oh, I'm ready, yes intense.

Grave sins:

And I was evil in the light of the warrior,

Me Roblast shepherds;

I am not interested in me;

But the devil is renounced

And my rest is my -

Small patch mine

For the old life, the evil story ... "

Deployment, confusion is full,

"Say" - she thought -

"He, God knows where it comes to ...

To tell him that he is ragged. "

But he is immersed in oblivion.

Its volume again sleep.

Leaving over him, she breathes a little.

As he worship! How he sleeps!

Sigh slightly noticeable breasts pegs;

Invisible air wore

His Archangel will fit;

Paradise smile shines

The holy man falls.

So he opened his eyes:

"Louise, do you? I dreamed ... Strange ...

You rose, chalunya, early;

Dose has not yet dried up.

Today, it seems foggy. "

"No, grandfather, light, the arch is clean;

Through the grove the sun shines brightly;

Do not break the fresh leaf,

And in the morning everything is hot.

Learn, why am I to you? -

Today we will have a holiday.

We have old boys,

Hidden, with him Fritz Pumpsman;

We will ride around the waters ...

When Ganz ... "kind

Pastor with a smile cunning waiting

What the story will behave

Baby frisky and careless.

"You, grandfather you can help

Some unheard of grief:

My Ganz fear is sick; day and night

Everything goes to the gloomy sea;

Everything is not on him, everything is not happy

He himself speaks to us, is boring to us,

Ask - the nefple will answer

And all terribly as exhausted.

He will be accused with longing -

Yes, he will destroy himself.

At thought I tremble one:

Perhaps, unhappy with me;

Perhaps he does not like me. -

It is me - in the heart the knife is steel.

I ask you, my angel, dare ... "

And rushed to him on the neck

Stainless breasts a little breathe;

And all burned, all mixed

My beauty soul;

The tear on the eyes seemed ...

Oh, like Louise is good!

"Do not cry, calm, my dear friend!

After all, it's embarrassing, finally, "

Spiritual pierced her father. -

"God gives us patience, strength;

With your diligent prayer,

You will not refuse anything to you.

Believe, Ganz is breathing only by you;

Believe me, he will prove you.

Why does the thoughts are empty

Soul raising peace? "

So he comforts his Louise,

Its to the chest of flushing pressed.

Here is old Gertruda puts the cat

Hot and all light like amber.

The old man loved to drink Cofi in the air,

Holding a cherry chubuk in his mouth.

The smoke left and the Deltsy lay down.

And, by thinking, Louise bread

Fed from his cat's cat, which

Murlycha rolled, hearing a sweet smell.

The old man has surveyed with colorful old chairs,

Brought Molub and his hand granddaughter filed;

And here put the elegant robe,

All of the brocade silver, brilliant,

And a festive nonsense cap -

His as a gift to our pastor

From the city brought recently GANC, -

And, relying on the shoulder Louise

Lily, our old man went out in the field.

What day! Merry might

And sang the zhavrons; Waves walked

From the wind of gold in the bread field;

Thickened here on them

On them fruit in the sun poured

Transparent; Dropped water in the distance

Green; Through rainbow mist

Married seas of fragrant flavors;

Bee worker broke honey

With alive colors; Drawing dragonfly

The crackway; Walking away

Little, there is a song of rowers of remote.

Radet Forest, already visible valley,

There are playful herds on it;

And there was already a roof

Louisina; Rush tiles

And brightly ray around the edges slips them.

Current page: 1 (Total 3 pages)

Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol
Ganz Kyhehelgarton
Idyll in the pictures

The proposed essay would never see light if the circumstances important for the author alone did not prompted him to that. This is a work of his eighteen years of youth. Not accepting to judge anything about dignity, nor about his flaws, and giving it an enlightened public, let's just say that many of the pictures of this idyll, unfortunately, did not survive; They probably connected the smaller passages and drawn the image of the main character. At least we are proud to see the opportunity to get acquainted with the creation of a young talent.

Picture I.

Light. That looked the village,

Houses, gardens. Everything can be seen, everything is light.

All in gold shines bell tower

And the beam shines on an old fence.

Everything was captivated

Down head, in silver water:

Fence, and house, and kindergarten in it are such.

Everything moves in silver water:

Shines the arch, and the waves of the cloud go,

And the forest is alive here just does not make noise.

On the shore far away in the sea,

Under the shadow of Lip, there is a cozy house

Pastor. In it for a long time, the old man lives.

Ovensno he and an old roof

Caught up; Tube all shocked;

And flows long flowery moss

By the walls; and the windows were mad;

But somehow cute in it, and for nothing

The old man did not give him.

Here is the linden,

Where he loves to relax, the identity shakes.

But now it is green adhesives

From the turne of fresh.

In duplicated nonorah

Its nest birds, old house

And the garden is a cheerful songbook.

Pastor did not sleep all night, and before the dawn

I went to sleep on clean air;

And he dreamed under lime in old chairs,

And the breeze is fed to him,

And white spots of the hair.

But who is a great fit?

As morning fresh, burns

And does his eyes bring to him?

Charmingly worth it?

Look at how cute wakes

Her lilac hand

His touching slightly,

And go back to the world of our nudit.

And at halflza he looks,

And now the neighbor says:

"On a wonderful, wonderful visitor!

You visited my abode!

Why is the secret melancholy

I'm going through the whole soul,

And on the gray old old man

Your image wonder

Wased is strange?

You see: I'm already sick,

Long ago cooled to the living

Myself a cellar in himself for a long time I,

From the day I'm waiting for peace on day,

About him and thinking is used to

My tongue is about him.

Why are you, a young guest,

To myself so fameful to go?

Or, the dwelling of the sky-paradise,

You give me hope,

I call me in heaven?

Oh, I'm ready, yes intense.

Grave sins:

And I was evil in the light of the warrior,

Me Roblast shepherds;

I am not interested in me;

But the devil is renounced

And my rest is my -

Small patch mine

For the old life, the evil story ... "

Deployment, confusion is full,

"Say" - she thought -

"He, God knows where it comes to ...

To tell him that he is ragged. "

But he is immersed in oblivion.

Its volume again sleep.

Leaving over him, she breathes a little.

As he worship! How he sleeps!

Sigh slightly noticeable breasts pegs;

Invisible air wore

His Archangel will fit;

Paradise smile shines

The holy man falls.

So he opened his eyes:

"Louise, do you? I dreamed ... Strange ...

You rose, chalunya, early;

Dose has not yet dried up.

Today, it seems foggy. "

"No, grandfather, light, the arch is clean;

Through the grove the sun shines brightly;

Do not break the fresh leaf,

And in the morning everything is hot.

Learn, why am I to you? -

Today we will have a holiday.

We have old boys,

Hidden, with him Fritz Pumpsman;

We will ride around the waters ...

When Ganz ... "kind

Pastor with a smile cunning waiting

What the story will behave

Baby frisky and careless.

"You, grandfather you can help

Some unheard of grief:

My Ganz fear is sick; day and night

Everything goes to the gloomy sea;

Everything is not on him, everything is not happy

He himself speaks to us, is boring to us,

Ask - the nefple will answer

And all terribly as exhausted.

He will be accused with longing -

Yes, he will destroy himself.

At thought I tremble one:

Perhaps, unhappy with me;

Perhaps he does not like me. -

It is me - in the heart the knife is steel.

I ask you, my angel, dare ... "

And rushed to him on the neck

Stainless breasts a little breathe;

And all burned, all mixed

My beauty soul;

The tear on the eyes seemed ...

Oh, like Louise is good!

"Do not cry, calm, my dear friend!

After all, it's embarrassing, finally, "

Spiritual pierced her father. -

"God gives us patience, strength;

With your diligent prayer,

You will not refuse anything to you.

Believe, Ganz is breathing only by you;

Believe me, he will prove you.

Why does the thoughts are empty

Soul raising peace? "

So he comforts his Louise,

Its to the chest of flushing pressed.

Here is old Gertruda puts the cat

Hot and all light like amber.

The old man loved to drink Cofi in the air,

Holding a cherry chubuk in his mouth.

The smoke left and the Deltsy lay down.

And, by thinking, Louise bread

Fed from his cat's cat, which

Murlycha rolled, hearing a sweet smell.

The old man has surveyed with colorful old chairs,

Brought Molub and his hand granddaughter filed;

And here put the elegant robe,

All of the brocade silver, brilliant,

And a festive nonsense cap -

His as a gift to our pastor

From the city brought recently GANC, -

And, relying on the shoulder Louise

Lily, our old man went out in the field.

What day! Merry might

And sang the zhavrons; Waves walked

From the wind of gold in the bread field;

Thickened here on them

On them fruit in the sun poured

Transparent; Dropped water in the distance

Green; Through rainbow mist

Married seas of fragrant flavors;

Bee worker broke honey

With alive colors; Drawing dragonfly

The crackway; Walking away

Little, there is a song of rowers of remote.

Radet Forest, already visible valley,

There are playful herds on it;

And there was already a roof

Louisina; Rush tiles

And brightly ray around the edges slips them.

Picture II.

I worry the thought of incomprehensible,

Our Ganz diverted looked

On the world is great, immense,

On your dicky lot.

Delicious, serene

He was happily played by life;

Innocent and tender soul

In it, bitter mischiefs did not give up;

Earthwings native

Earth destroying passions

He did not wear his chest,

Careless, windy baby.

And it was having fun.

He was talking cute, alive

In the crowd of children; did not believe the evil;

Before Him bloomed the world as if on Divo.

His girlfriend from childhood days

Child Louise, Angel Light,

Shone the charm of speeches;

Through rings Breaky Kudrey

Cappy Love Zaga Nonfather;

In the green skirt itself

Sings whether it dances -

Everything is simple, everything is alive in it

All kindergarten in it is eloquent;

On the neck pink handkerchief

From the chest flies little by little,

And slice white shoe

It covers the leg.

In the forest, it plays with him -

He will ring it, everything will penetrate

In the bush rush with the worst evil,

He suddenly cry in the ears loudly -

And scares; Is he sleeping -

His face will paint everything

And, wake-up laughter awakened,

He leaves sweet sleep,

I kisses the chalun.

Summer spring.

The circle of children's games has become modest. -

For them, the incidence is not visible;

Fire eyes became Tomen,

She is shyly sad.

They are clearly guessed

You, speeches first love!

As long as sweet sadness!

Lookout rainbow days!

What would be desired with Louise Mile?

He is with her and evening, with her and day,

It is brought to it with a wonderful force,

How true a wandering shadow.

Full of heart fate,

Old men are not visible

Their innocents for happiness

Their children; And far

From them days grief, days of doubt:

They are autumn peaceful genius.

But soon secret sadness

They took possession; The gaze is foggy

And often he looks at Dahl,

And worried all and strange.

Something boldly looking for the mind

Something secretly indifferent;

Soul, in the drain of the Dark Doom,

About something, sorrowful, whips;

He is like a chained sits,

The brown sea looks at sea.

In dreams, everyone hears anyone

With a slim noise of dilapidated waters.

Or in the valley there is a twin;

Eyes solemnly shine

When the wind rushes noisy

And thunder are hot talk;

Fire instant roll clouds;

Rain sources of combustion

Something sound and noisy. -

Il per hour midnight, per hour of dreams

Sits for booking legends

And, turning the leaf,

He catches the letters in her dumb

- the first centuries in them are gray,

And the word wondrous rattles. -

An hour in addition to the whole whole,

From her and eye he will not reduce;

Who past Ganz will go away

Who will look, will say boldly:

He lives back far.

Wonderful thought is fascinated

Under oak gloomy can

He comes often on a summer day,

To something secret is shed;

He sees secretly someone's shadow,

And he extends his hands to her

Her in the slaughter hugs. -

And sootten and one

Louise Angel, what? where?

He is predicted with all his heart

Does not know, poor, sleep;

He brings the same affection;

His man knocked out;

He does innocently kiss;

He crushes for a minute

And again the same sank.

They are beautiful, those moments,

When transparent crowd

Far cute visions

Clean the young man with you.

But if the world of the soul is destroyed,

Forgotten happy corner,

It will become indifferent to him,

And for ordinary people is high,

Are they a young man?

And the heart is joying?

While in the housing bustle

He is overhearding the sneaking

Delivered former mystery,

A variety of dreams.

Picture III

Land of classic, beautiful creatures,

And glorious affairs and liberty Earth!

Athens, to you, in the heat of wonderful tremors,

Soul I'm waiting for me!

Here from tripods to the Piraea

Boils, the solemn people are worried;

Where is the speech of Eskhinov, romdy and flame

Everything is trying in advance,

How water noisy transparent irlis.

Great to this marble graceful Parthenon!

Colon Doric he is next to

Minerva Fidi in it moved the cutter,

And the Pararazia, Zeevxis brush shook.

Under Porto Divine Sage

Leads high on the lonely world word;

Who is ready for the valiant of immortality

Who shame to whom the crown.

Fountains of slender noise, non-stroke songs clicks;

With the sunrise of the crowd of the crowd in the amphitheater brings,

Persian candis the whole perfect glitter,

And light tunics go.

Poems of Sofoclovy Survivo sound;

Lavrov wreaths solemnly fly;

With hurrying chips Pet of Epicur

Archons, Warriors, Ministers of Amur

We hurry to explore beautiful science:

How life live like a pleasure to drink.

But aspasia! Does not dare and flies

The confused young man, with black eye a meeting.

How frying those mouth! How flames are those speeches!

And dark as night, those kudri somehow,

Worrying, falling on the chest,

On the whiteramor shoulders.

But what about the sound of cups of Timpanov Wildloga?

Sprinkle crowded vaccine maids,

Run untrogeny, frantic crowd

To the sacred forest; Everything disappeared ... What are you? Where are you?..

But you disappeared, I am alone.

Again longing, again annoyance;

At least Favn came from the valleys;

Although b beautiful DRIADA

It seemed to me in the Garden's Mraka.

Oh how wonderful you are your world

Sonya, Greeks, Pray!

How did you hurt him!

And our - and he is poor, and Sir,

And the whole mile is cut aside.

And again new dreams

His laughing, hug;

His air raise

From the ocean fuss.

Picture IV

In the country where live keys are sparkled;

Where, wonderfully shining, shine rays;

Breathing Amrama and Roses Night

Luxurious Blue Ether;

And in the air clouds of smoking hang;

Mangosteen fruits are burning;

Meadows Kandaharian sparkles the carpet;

And the heavenly tent will be safe;

Luxurious rain bright colors,

That shine, trembling swarms of moths; -

I see there Peri: in the slaughter she

Does not see, not a member, dreams are full.

As the sun, two, the eyes of heavenly burn;

Like hemaceagara, so curls shine;

Breathing - Lilies of Silver Chad,

When falling asleep

And the wind will be sighing sometimes;

Or flutter silver wings

When they sound, sprinkle, escribed,

Il of the splas of chindars of mysterious jets;

And what's the smile? And what a kiss?

But I see how the air, she is flying,

In the edges of the Podnebyss, to the Pets in a hurry.

Wait, look back! It does not make it.

And in the rainbow sink, and now it is not visible.

But the memory of the world remains for a long time,

And the blessing all the air wore.

Living youths arepoly

So stood up dreams.

Sometimes heavenly features

Souls of excellent impressive

It was lying on it; But what

In the waves of his heart

I was looking for a duke of unclear,

What wanted what I wanted

Why flew so much

Soul and greedy, and passionate,

As if the world wanted to hug, -

Togo himself could not understand.

It seemed to him stuffy, dusty

In this dotted country;

And the heart beat strongly, strongly

On the far, far side.

Then when would you see

How the raw breasts receded

How predominantly tremble,

How heart eager to get down

To his dream, the dream is unclear;

Which dust in him was beautiful;

What a hot tears

Live pulled out eyes.

Picture VI

From Vismar in two miles that village

Where the persons limited to the persons of our world.

I do not know how now, but Lüneensdorf

She then cheerful, called.

Updated Belleet Modest House

Wilhelma Bauch, Mud. - long ago

Married a pastor daughter,

He made him! Cheerful house!

It is painted with green paint, indoor

Beautiful and ring tile;

Around chestnuts standing

Navischi branches as if in the windows

Want to tire; because of them flashes

Laptop grille, beautiful

And slyly made by Wilhelm himself;

It hangs and snake it hop;

From the windows stretched the pole on it underwear

Shines white before the sun. Here

In a break in the attic one flock

Shaggy pigeons; broken Clochut

Turkey; Clapping meets day

Krikun Rooster and in the yard is important

Between the pesting chickens, he heaps jumps

Grainy; walk there two

Manual goats and frolic

Fascinated grass. For a long time smoked

So smoke from white pipes, curly he

The clouds have grown up.

From the other side where paint rolled from the walls

And gray stuck bricks,

Where the ancient chestnuts got shadow

Which the sun ran

When the top of their wind is ravar, -

Under the shadow of those trees forever cute

Stood in the morning a dub table, all clean

Covered with tablecloth and all stolen

Fascinous meal: Yellow delicious cheese,

Radish and oil in porcelain duck,

And beer, wine, and sweet bisheff,

And sugar, and brown waffles;

In a basket, ripe, brilliant fruits:

Transparent border, fragrant raspberry,

And like amber yellowing pears

And plum blue, and bright peach,

In the intricate, everything was ordered.

Today celebrated Live Wilhelm

Birth of his wife's dear spouse

With pastor and dragium daughters:

Louise senior and smaller fanny.

But Fanny no, she went long ago

Hanz's call and did not return. Right,

He somewhere in thought wanders.

And cute Louise looks everything

Carefully on the dark window

Neighbor Ganza. Two steps after all

To him; But my Louise did not go:

So that he noticed in her face

Tooching up, so as not to read

In her eyes he is eagerly reproached.

Here says Wilhelm, Father, Louise:

"Look, you are Ganz Filly order:

Why does he not go to us for so long?

After all, you spoiled him. "

And the child Louise is in response:

"I'm afraid to cheer the beautiful I am Ganza:

Already he is sick, pale, hood ... "

- "What a disease", said mother,

Living Berta: "Not a disease, longing

Unwanted to him itself stuck;

That marries, and longing will disappear.

So the young escape, completely nice

Sprayed with rain, in a moment blooms;

And what's wife, how not to have a husband? "

"Speech smart", gray pastor set:

"Everything, believe, will pass when God wants,

And be in all of his holy will. " -

Already twice it from the tube knocked

Ash, and in the argument took Wilhelm,

Talking about newspaper news,

About the evil fault, about the Greeks and about the Turks,

About Missalungi, about the affairs of war,

About the glorious leader bell1

About the canign, about parliament,

About disasters and rebellion in Madrite.

How suddenly Louise screamed and mig

Seeing Ganz, rushed to him.

The air mill hugging her slim,

With a wave of a young man kissed her.

While turning to him, Pastor is pallp:

"Eh, shame, GANC, forget your friend!

What, if I have already forgotten Louise,

About us, old men, and think? " - "Full

You are all Ganz, Patek, Juror, "

Berta said: "We'd better sit down

Now at the table, everything will be flooded:

And porridge with rice and wine soul

And sugar peas, hot peel,

Grilled with raisins in oil. Here

At the table they sit peacefully;

And soon IMG wine revived everything

And, light, laugh in the soul shed.

Old Man hidden and Fritz on a ring flute

According to the hostess in honor.

Everyone rushed and swing in the waltz.

Swimming, ruddy our Wilhelm

Embedded himself with his wife, as with a dip;

As vikhore, carried GANC with his Louise

In a burly waltz; and before them the world

Spread all in a wonderful, noisy strict.

And dear Louise go,

Not to see around can not, all

In the moving lost. Imi

Do not pour, says Pastor:

"Caverny, wonderful couple!

Mila my cheerful Louise,

Beautiful and smart and modest HANC; -

They are created for each other

And happily spend your life.

Thank you, oh God merciful!

That he sent grace to old age

My extended the drains forces -

To see such beautiful grandchildren,

To say, passing goodbye to the Old Tel;

Lovely I saw on the earth. "

Picture VII

With a cool calm quiet evening

Descends; Farewell rays

Kiss where - where the gloomy sea;

And sparks alive, gold

Trees TRONATES; And in the distance

Seen, through the fog sea, rocks,

All multicolored. Very calmly.

Rushing away from fun shores,

Yes quiet noise in water spilled fish

Slightly run and take the sea ripples,

Yes swallow, wing of shuffling the sea,

Circles in air sliding gives.

Here is a scrast away, like a point, boat;

And who is in him, in that boat, sitting?

Pastor sits, our old man is gray

And with expensive spouse Wilhelm;

And having funny always Saluna Fanny,

With fishing in hand and swallowed with railing

Laughing, rugged waves talked;

Near the stern with Louise Mila Ganz.

And long all in silence admired:

How widespread widespread

Wave and in the splashes of firewalls, suddenly

Oral torn, flutter;

How clarified pink range

And the south wind of the breath yumania.

And here is the pastor, performed by the dying,

Speak: "How Miles this God's evening!

Beautiful, quietly, how good life

Sinless; it also peacefully

Cums the path and tears of dying

Sacred ashes, beautiful, froths.

It's time for me; The term is assigned

And soon, soon I will not be yours

But is it perfectly beautiful? .. "

Everyone was slandered. GANC who is a song

Talked on sweet bobbo

Thought and dropped the oboe;

And again Sleep some sore

His man; thoughts rushed

And wonderful to the soul flashed.

And so he says Louise:

"Tell me, Ganz, when you still love

Me when I wake up

At least pity, at least a living compassion

In your soul, do not flip me, say, -

Why is one with some book

Are you sitting in the night? (I can see everything

And the windows are each other we are against each other).

Why are you sick of all? Why are sad?

Oh, how your sad kind is worried about!

Oh, how my sadness is sad! "

And, the touched, embarrassed by GANC;

Her to his chest presses,

And splashed the unwitting tear.

"Do not ask me, my Louise,

And not many anxiety.

When I seem immersed in thought -

Believe, busy and then one thing

And I think I, how to turn away

All from you sad doubts,

How joy is yours fill the heart,

As if your soul keep quiet,

WRITE YOUR Children's innocent:

So that the incredible is not approaching

So that the shadow of longing did not touch

So that your happiness is always blooming. "

Going towards him head on the chest,

In excess of feelings, in the appreciation of the heart

It can not express the word. -

On the shore carried the boat smoothly

And suddenly moored. Everyone came out

IMG from it. "Well! Beware, children, "-

Said Wilhelm: "Here is raw and dew,

So as not to naigue the cough blast. " -

Dear Ganz, our think: "What will happen

When hear what would know

Shouldn't she? " And it looks at her

And he feels in the heart of the ukrizna:

As if unkind what did

As if before God was hypocritic.

Painting VIII.

On the tower beats a midnight hour.

So, it is an hour, an hour of the Duma,

As Ganz one always sits!

Light lamps trembling in front of him

And pale dusk illuminates

No matter how doubt breaks.

All sleeps. Note Blind

It will not meet anyone on the field;

And, as a distant conversation,

Wave noise, and shines the month.

Everything is quiet, the night is breathing.

Now his deep dum

Does not disturb day noise:

Over it is so silence.

And what is she? - she gets up,

Sit down right by the window:

"He will not look, not notify,

And I will see for him;

Does not sleep for my happiness! ..

Bless, Lord, Him! "

Wave noise, and shines the month.

And here it is a dream

And the head is unwittingly clone.

But Ganz is still sinking in thoughts,

They are deeply immersed deeply.

1.

All is decided. Now it's already

Me to die here?

And do not know other goals?

And the best goals do not find?

Himself to persuade forelling sacrifice?

During life to be dead for the world?

2.

Lie soul, the fame of loved

Nonignificance in the world to love?

Lie soul, fortunately not cooled,

Do not eat the wise of the world?

And in it a wonderful not to meet?

Existence not to mark?

3.

Why do you go down so you,

Land Luxury Territories?

And day and night, like birds pitches,

And day and night dreams to bust,

I am enchanted by you.

4.

I am your! I am your! From this desert

Attooth I am in the paradise;

As a pilgrim wander to the shrine,

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

The ship will go, splash the waves;

They feel the fun, fun.

5.

And he will fall, the cover is unclear,

By whom you knew you a dream,

And the world is beautiful, the world is beautiful

Will assign wonderful gates

To make a young man ready

And in pleasure, forever new.

6.

Creators of wonderful impressions!

Cutter Your brush I will see

And your fiery creations

My soul will be mine.

Shumi w, my ocean is wide!

Carrying my lonely ship!

7.

And you sorry, my corner is cramped,

And the forest, and the field! Meadow, sorry!

Kropy you often rain heaven!

And God forbid to bloom!

For you soul as if the guard is children,

The last time hug you craves

8.

Sorry, my angel is serethny!

Chela tears not krophi!

Do not indulge the rebel

And Ganz Poor Sorry!

Do not cry, do not cry, I will soon be

I will return - you will forget? ..

Wilhelmu Kuhehelbekeler in his life was very lucky only once, when in 1811 he became a lyceum, classmate Pushkin. All his subsequent life is a series of defeats, failures, physical and mental suffering.

In the lyceum over him mocked. Non-spare appearance: high height, thinness, long nose, hearing loss; Important character: simple and quick temper; clumsy poems: very highly high and heavy - all this was ridiculed in the most ruthless way. Wilhelma is supplied with a train of offensive nicknames: Kühl, Kühel, Gezel, Becherkühel. And he brought him to the point that the clumsy long-grade Wilhelm tried to be drowned in the Tsarskoye Pond. Nasil pulled out - wet, unfortunate, plumbed smelly tina. However, the lyceumists did not love anyone as Wilhelm. Pushchin and Pushkin became his friends.

When released from the lyceum, Kyhelbecker receives the chin of the titular advisor, a silver medal and an enviable certificate. Together with Pushkin and future Chancellor, Prince Gorchakov, he becomes an official of the Russian Foreign Ministry. In Paris, Kyhehelbecker stands with lectures on Russian: "The history of the Russian language, perhaps will reveal the character of the people who spell on it. Free, strong, rich, he originated earlier than the fastener slavery and despotism established, and subsequently represented Antidote the destructive effect of oppression and feudalism. "
Free words were noticed by "who need", Kyhelbecker was withdrawn to Russia. He returns to the service, it turns out to be General Yermolov in the Caucasus, getting acquainted there with Griboedov, he managed to shoot a duel ... ah, no wonder he wrote about him a lyceum mentor: "angry, quick-tempered and frivolous; not smoothly expressed and strange in circulation ... ".

The radical mood brought closer to the Kühelbecker with some participants of the Northern Society, but he was not a member of his Kühelbecker and she suffered by chance, "Ohmelel in someone else," as Pushkin was expressed.

In a short time, Kyhelbecker made a dizzying throw in misfortune. Feeling how the fate of Wilhelm in a single fatal assembly with the Russian history, Pushkin wrote in 1825 a providic-alarming message, almost prayer:

"Let your good genius keep you
Under the storms and in silence. "

On December 14, 1825, Wilhelm Kyhehelbecker - on the Senate Square. He is trying to shoot in the Grand Duke Mikhail Pavlovich, but the pistol gives off twice. Be a pistol, it's a good gun, hanging Kyhelbekevera on July 13, 1826 at the Petropavlovka Kronverka - sixth. He fled and, intending to hide abroad, arrived in Warsaw, where he was recognized by the signs reported by his former friend - Bulgarian. Sentenced to the death penalty, he was pardon, at the request of the Great KN. Mikhail Pavlovich, and sentenced to eternal hard work replaced by a single conclusion in the fortress. Delivered ten painful years in stone bags. Then - settlement in Siberia. The hardest hit - the news of the death of Pushkin:

Be sure! No one is equal to you,
None of the peers-singers.
You will not felt in the darkness of the centuries ...
- wrote after the death of a friend's lucky Kyhehelbecker.

In 1837, Wilhelm Karlovich married the throttle of Ivanovna Athnic, the daughter of the Barguzinsky postman. Their family life was not happy: the firstborn was born dead, stirred the need, extorted the test. In 1845, Kyhehelbecker is blind. He died in Tobolsk, August 11, 1846.

The literary heritage of Kühelbecker is huge, but almost not in demand as descendants. The charm of his personality is undoubtedly. Unbalanced, sensitive, forever enthusiastic, Kyhelbecker was a sample of romance in life and in the literature. Pushkin responded about him: "A man is a little man in his hands, though the Sadman." The main features of his creativity are idealism and piety with a mystical tint.

Among the main poetry of Kyhehelbecker, as well as most of the Decembrists, religion was essential. The development of biblical motives was very important for their romantic aspirations. It is noteworthy that the pages of the Old Testament inspired them more often than the images of the Gospel, especially until December 14. After all, these books are revered not only by Christians, but also by representatives of other religions.

Echova, case, Ormong or Zeus
Tsar Heaven
Holy name? - But forever
He began to start everything end, -

He wrote Kühelbecker in the youth poem "Immortality is the goal of human life." The idea of \u200b\u200bviolence generally entered the ethical and political program of the Decembrists.

Like other poets of folding romanticism, they saw the source of high topics close to their ideals in the Bible, and at the same time - a monument of the archaic epoch, whose culture is distinguished by simplicity and naturalness.

It is from these positions at the beginning of the 1820s. refers to the study of the Bible Kyhehelbecker. The fruit of this study was a series of biblical stylization of Kyhehelbecker ("Fifth Commandment", "Hope on God", etc.). It should be noted two points. In the Bible Kühehelbecker attracted images of the prophets, the Word of God. He saw in them the ideal idea of \u200b\u200bthe poet, who "broadcasts the truth and the court of fishing, triumphs about the greatness of the godded edge, mosquit on Peruns in Sugostites, Blags the Righteous, Monster Monster." Especially the roads was the image of the Psalm Pevida. The second feature in the interpretation of the Bible Kyhehelbecker is the desire to reproduce the historical and national flavor of an ancient monument. This was a deliberately archaised language, which reflected the spirit of the era portrayed. Archaisms were used not to give the tongue of traditional highness, but for stylization.

Although jeques of "new poetry" saw in this return to the old language standards and, without feeling the language experiment, condemned Kühelbecker for his addiction to archaisms, later Russian poets took advantage of the results of this experiment and archaisms were widely used.

It is known that the detention time was in the work of Kyhelbecker most fruitful. He wrote in all genres: lyrical poems, poems, drama, artistic prose and literary criticism. Works on religious topics occupy a great place in the work of this period. These are poems on biblical plots ("David", "Seven Sleeping Excirations"), and lyrical poems written in the form of direct appeals to God or related church holidays. The religious feeling in one degree or another permeates all the creativity of the Kühelbecker of the prison period, although this feeling does not become orthodox church.

Being Lutheran in his religion, Kyhehelbecker was different and at the end of life, in the link, visited the Orthodox Church, marrying Orthodox. The religious moods of Kühelbecker after December 14, apparently passed the same evolution as other Decembrists: oscillations between despair and hope during the investigation period, the state of deep mental depression in the first years of imprisonment and revival to the new life, a new acquisition of oneself and its connection with world. Kyhelbeker helped his work in this.

Poetry Kyhehelbecker is imbued with the state of abandonment and despair, but thanks to the exacerbation of a religious feeling, it is transformed into a sense of unity from the whole universe. God is an inspiration submitter - the prisoner saves from moral death. Human soul, as it were, dissolves in the universe, is rolling with it. This reconcilatory and towering motive is very characteristic of Kyhehelbecker and occurs not only in religious design.

One of the trunks i
Crying crying world

He says in one of his poems. This feeling of his relationship with the world is brightly expressed in one of the best poems of Kyhelbecker "Pomy". The subtitle of his "Sveaborg Fortress. September 29, 1833 "- emphasizes the lyrical, autobiographical beginning of the poem. The feeling of love to all we knew, but who is no longer with us, as well as those who are followed by the following, is the main pathos of this poem, written extraordinarily penetrating. Opportunity of intonation, meter, resembling folk verse, simplicity of vocabulary, clear rhythmic construction gives some naivety, folk, folklorettell, although there is no hint of stylization in the poem:

Mother babies,
Who went into the world another
Beloved, invisible,
Tuting peace!
For them, there is no sadness,
There is no care for them
We are just - we are behind
From their satellites. ...
We are not in the desert ...
Lack not all voice ...
Not all friends today
Ahead of us ...
Not grieved in no word
Neither look the rest:
You, God, be covering
And the dead, and alive!

This motive of immortality and unity with all those who lived and leaving this world is a characteristic Christian motive. In the work of prisoners and exiled Decembrists, he received a new force.

For Kühelbecker, the approach to the people's worldview as a worldview was previously all the Christian, Orthodox, for which the ideas of humility and repentance are very significant. It was brightly manifested in his experiments to create large problematic works saturated with philosophical content. It can be said that all the work of Kyhelbecker 1830-1840s. It is imbued in one way or another religious maidos.

Unlike Bestuzhev or Odoevsky, it was isolated from both the friends of the Decembrists and from the outside world, spending ten years in solitary conclusion. His creativity was supposed mainly to read books and magazines, different paths of the victory. Most of his poems are written on historical material. Part of them embodies the history of religion: biblical myths, legends about the first Christians, gospel traditions ("David", "Zorovevel", "Seven Sleeping Excirations", "Agasver"). These works are reflected both the religious aspirations of Kühelbecker and its general philosophical interests, the interpretation of the historical process. This is especially true to the poem "Agasver" ("Eternal Jam").

The poem is based on a legend about the Jerusalem shoemaker Agasver, who pushed Christ, who, on the way to Golgotha, stopped in the threshold of his house. For this, Agasver was punished with an eternal wander on the ground. Such a plot allowed Kyhehelbeker to portray various moments of world history from the times of Christ to the XIX century. The poem consists of seven separate passages, each of which is devoted to the dramatic events of history, one way or another associated with the confusion between the followers of Christ and his opponents. It is based on the opposition of two relations to the world, two concepts about the truth and sense of life. In the first "passage", Agasver, Buntar, immersed in worldly affairs and political struggle, dreams of liberating Jews from under the rule of the Romans. He goes for Christ with the hope that he will exercise this liberation. Christ dedicated himself to eternal. Social oppression, national problems do not worry it:

No, and does not think to return freedom
Savior of all Adam Sons
Not tolerating temporary shacks
But to the eternal indifferent people!

Making sure that the Agasver leaves Christ and becomes his enemy. This dilemma: worldly heavenly, temporary - eternal - is considered in all subsequent passages on various historical material. The spiritual superiority of followers of a clean faith, even if pursued and striking, is emphasized by Kyhehelbecker.

At the same time, the poem contains social motivation of a number of historical events, shows the pattern of their occurrence. Showing the first stage of the French revolution as a wide movement of the masses, Kyhehelbecker concludes that the Jacobin Terror became the death of the ideals of the revolution. Jacobins are shown to them as fragmented freedom, cruel hypocrites, the least in fact worried about the actual position of the people.

Conversely, the Catholic priests who were a stronghold of unfair power to the revolution, through suffering and death bother their sins and die for faith, spiritually transformed. The topic of redemption of sins by suffering is generally characteristic of the sequel creativity of Kyhehelbecker and is found in a number of his works.

With the greatest sequence, she affected the "Izhorsky" mystery, the central things of Kühelbecker, which was given a lot of strength and many years of work. The main hero of the drama "Rich Russian Nobleman" Lev Petrovich Izhorsky - the life of life and her pleasures, a disappointed and cynical young man.

In Izhora, as in the "Fausta" Goethe, the hero accompanies the demon, who in exchange for his soul, performs all the desires and whims of this wounded person. Kyhehelbecker holds his hero through different stages of sin. Essimising his dramatic work as a mystery, he wanted to emphasize her connection with medieval dramas of a religious nature and show the sinful soul, driven by the Devil.
The first part of the work depicts "Earth", the second - "hell", and the third - "paradise". Three parts of "Izhorsky" are three different stages of the state of the hero's soul, which can be conventionally indicated as "doubt", "drop" and "revival". The poet comes to the conclusion that only sincere religiosity is the key to the spiritual resurrection.

Everywhere I see my God,
He is Chad his father - and does not leave,
No, never rejecting
In whom faith in the merciful will not bend.
Lord, my God - on land, on the waters,
And in a noisy set, in a worldly wave,
And in the hut, and in lush teremes,
And in the pier of the soul - in solitude ...
No place, which is his ray
He would not be illuminated, everywhere, day;
No darkness, no eclipse in front of him:
All close and almighty are close.

Idyll in the pictures

The proposed essay would never see light if the circumstances important for the author alone did not prompted him to that. This is a work of his eighteen years of youth. Not accepting to judge anything about dignity, nor about his flaws, and giving it an enlightened public, let's just say that many of the pictures of this idyll, unfortunately, did not survive; They probably connected the smaller passages and drawn the image of the main character. At least we are proud to see the opportunity to get acquainted with the creation of a young talent.

Picture I.

Light. That looked the village,

Houses, gardens. Everything can be seen, everything is light.

All in gold shines bell tower

And the beam shines on an old fence.

Everything was captivated

Down head, in silver water:

Fence, and house, and kindergarten in it are such.

Everything moves in silver water:

Shines the arch, and the waves of the cloud go,

And the forest is alive here just does not make noise.

On the shore far away in the sea,

Under the shadow of Lip, there is a cozy house

Pastor. In it for a long time, the old man lives.

Ovensno he and an old roof

Caught up; Tube all shocked;

And flows long flowery moss

By the walls; and the windows were mad;

But somehow cute in it, and for nothing

The old man did not give him.

Here is the linden,

Where he loves to relax, the identity shakes.

But now it is green adhesives

From the turne of fresh.

In duplicated nonorah

Its nest birds, old house

And the garden is a cheerful songbook.

Pastor did not sleep all night, and before the dawn

I went to sleep on clean air;

And he dreamed under lime in old chairs,

And the breeze is fed to him,

And white spots of the hair.

But who is a great fit?

As morning fresh, burns

And does his eyes bring to him?

Charmingly worth it?

Look at how cute wakes

Her lilac hand

His touching slightly,

And go back to the world of our nudit.

And at halflza he looks,

And now the neighbor says:

"On a wonderful, wondrous visitor!

You visited my abode!

Why is the secret melancholy

I'm going through the whole soul,

And on the gray old old man

Your image wonder

Wased is strange?

You see: I'm already sick,

Long ago cooled to the living

Myself a cellar in himself for a long time I,

From the day I'm waiting for peace on day,

About him and thinking is used to

My tongue is about him.

Why are you, a young guest,

To myself so fameful to go?

Or, the dwelling of the sky-paradise,

You give me hope,

I call me in heaven?

Oh, I'm ready, yes intense.

Grave sins:

And I was evil in the light of the warrior,

Me Roblast shepherds;

I am not interested in me;

But the devil is renounced

And my rest is my -

Small patch mine

For the old life, the evil story ... "

Deployment, confusion is full,

"Say" - she thought -

"He, God knows where it will come ...

To tell him that he is habit. "

But he is immersed in oblivion.

Its volume again sleep.

Leaving over him, she breathes a little.

As he worship! How he sleeps!

Sigh slightly noticeable breasts pegs;

Invisible air wore

His Archangel will fit;

Paradise smile shines

The holy man falls.

So he opened his eyes:

"Louise, do you? I dreamed ... Strange ...

You rose, chalunya, early;

Dose has not yet dried up.

Today, it seems foggy. "

"No, Grandpa, Light, the arch is clean;

Through the grove the sun shines brightly;

Do not break the fresh leaf,

And in the morning everything is hot.

Learn, why am I to you? -

Today we will have a holiday.

We have old boys,

Hidden, with him Fritz Pumpsman;

We will ride around the waters ...

When would Ganz ... "kind

Pastor with a smile cunning waiting

What the story will behave

Baby frisky and careless.

"You, grandfather you can help

Some unheard of grief:

My Ganz fear is sick; day and night

Everything goes to the gloomy sea;

Everything is not on him, everything is not happy

He himself speaks to us, is boring to us,

Ask - the nefple will answer

And all terribly as exhausted.

He will be accused with longing -

Yes, he will destroy himself.

At thought I tremble one:

Perhaps, unhappy with me;

Perhaps he does not like me. -

It is me - in the heart the knife is steel.

I ask you, my angel, dare ... "

And rushed to him on the neck

Stainless breasts a little breathe;

And all burned, all mixed

My beauty soul;

The tear on the eyes seemed ...

Oh, like Louise is good!

"Do not cry, calm, my dear friend!

After all, it's embarrassing, finally, "

Spiritual pierced her father. -

"God gives us patience, strength;

With your diligent prayer,

You will not refuse anything to you.

Believe, Ganz is breathing only by you;

Believe me, he will prove you.

Why does the thoughts are empty

Soul raising peace? "

So he comforts his Louise,

Its to the chest of flushing pressed.

Here is old Gertruda puts the cat

Hot and all light like amber.

The old man loved to drink Cofi in the air,

Holding a cherry chubuk in his mouth.

The smoke left and the Deltsy lay down.

And, by thinking, Louise bread

Fed from his cat's cat, which

Murlycha rolled, hearing a sweet smell.

The old man has surveyed with colorful old chairs,

Brought Molub and his hand granddaughter filed;

And here put the elegant robe,

All of the brocade silver, brilliant,

And a festive nonsense cap -

His as a gift to our pastor

From the city brought recently GANC, -

And, relying on the shoulder Louise

Lily, our old man went out in the field.

What day! Merry might

And sang the zhavrons; Waves walked

From the wind of gold in the bread field;

Thickened here on them

On them fruit in the sun poured

Transparent; Dropped water in the distance

Green; Through rainbow mist

Married seas of fragrant flavors;

Bee worker broke honey

With alive colors; Drawing dragonfly

The crackway; Walking away

Little, there is a song of rowers of remote.

Radet Forest, already visible valley,

There are playful herds on it;

And there was already a roof

Louisina; Rush tiles

And brightly ray around the edges slips them.

Picture II.

I worry the thought of incomprehensible,

Our Ganz diverted looked

On the world is great, immense,

On your dicky lot.

Delicious, serene

He was happily played by life;

Innocent and tender soul

In it, bitter mischiefs did not give up;

Earthwings native

Earth destroying passions

He did not wear his chest,

Careless, windy baby.

And it was having fun.

He was talking cute, alive

In the crowd of children; did not believe the evil;

Before Him bloomed the world as if on Divo.

His girlfriend from childhood days

Child Louise, Angel Light,

Shone the charm of speeches;

Through rings Breaky Kudrey

Cappy Love Zaga Nonfather;

In the green skirt itself

Sings whether it dances -

Everything is simple, everything is alive in it

All kindergarten in it is eloquent;

On the neck pink handkerchief

From the chest flies little by little,

And slice white shoe

It covers the leg.

In the forest, it plays with him -

He will ring it, everything will penetrate

In the bush rush with the worst evil,

He suddenly cry in the ears loudly -

And scares; Is he sleeping -

His face will paint everything

And, wake-up laughter awakened,

He leaves sweet sleep,

I kisses the chalun.

Summer spring.

The circle of children's games has become modest. -

For them, the incidence is not visible;

Fire eyes became Tomen,

She is shyly sad.

They are clearly guessed

You, speeches first love!

As long as sweet sadness!

Lookout rainbow days!

What would be desired with Louise Mile?

He is with her and evening, with her and day,

It is brought to it with a wonderful force,

How true a wandering shadow.

Full of heart fate,

Old men are not visible

Their innocents for happiness

Their children; And far

From them days grief, days of doubt:

They are autumn peaceful genius.

But soon secret sadness

They took possession; The gaze is foggy

And often he looks at Dahl,

And worried all and strange.

Something boldly looking for the mind

Something secretly indifferent;

Soul, in the drain of the Dark Doom,

About something, sorrowful, whips;

He is like a chained sits,

The brown sea looks at sea.

In dreams, everyone hears anyone

With a slim noise of dilapidated waters.

* * *

Or in the valley there is a twin;

Eyes solemnly shine

When the wind rushes noisy

And thunder are hot talk;

Fire instant roll clouds;

Rain sources of combustion

Something sound and noisy. -

Il per hour midnight, per hour of dreams

Sits for booking legends

And, turning the leaf,

He catches the letters in her dumb

- the first centuries in them are gray,

And the word wondrous rattles. -

An hour in addition to the whole whole,

From her and eye he will not reduce;

Who past Ganz will go away

Who will look, will say boldly:

He lives back far.

Wonderful thought is fascinated

Under oak gloomy can

He comes often on a summer day,

To something secret is shed;

He sees secretly someone's shadow,

And he extends his hands to her

Her in the slaughter hugs. -

And sootten and one

Louise Angel, what? where?

He is predicted with all his heart

Does not know, poor, sleep;

He brings the same affection;

His man knocked out;

He does innocently kiss;

He crushes for a minute

And again the same sank.

They are beautiful, those moments,

When transparent crowd

Far cute visions

Clean the young man with you.

But if the world of the soul is destroyed,

Forgotten happy corner,

It will become indifferent to him,

And for ordinary people is high,

Are they a young man?

And the heart is joying?

While in the housing bustle

He is overhearding the sneaking

Delivered former mystery,

A variety of dreams.

Picture III

Land of classic, beautiful creatures,

And glorious affairs and liberty Earth!

Athens, to you, in the heat of wonderful tremors,

Soul I'm waiting for me!

Here from tripods to the Piraea

Boils, the solemn people are worried;

Where is the speech of Eskhinov, romdy and flame

Everything is trying in advance,

How water noisy transparent irlis.

Great to this marble graceful Parthenon!

Colon Doric he is next to

Minerva Fidi in it moved the cutter,

And the Pararazia, Zeevxis brush shook.

Under Porto Divine Sage

Leads high on the lonely world word;

Who is ready for the valiant of immortality

Who shame to whom the crown.

Fountains of slender noise, non-stroke songs clicks;

With the sunrise of the crowd of the crowd in the amphitheater brings,

Persian candis the whole perfect glitter,

And light tunics go.

Poems of Sofoclovy Survivo sound;

Lavrov wreaths solemnly fly;

With hurrying chips Pet of Epicur

Archons, Warriors, Ministers of Amur

We hurry to explore beautiful science:

How life live like a pleasure to drink.

But aspasia! Does not dare and flies

The confused young man, with black eye a meeting.

How frying those mouth! How flames are those speeches!

And dark as night, those kudri somehow,

Worrying, falling on the chest,

On the whiteramor shoulders.

But what about the sound of cups of Timpanov Wildloga?

Sprinkle crowded vaccine maids,

Run untrogeny, frantic crowd

To the sacred forest; Everything disappeared ... What are you? Where are you?..

But you disappeared, I am alone.

Again longing, again annoyance;

At least Favn came from the valleys;

Although b beautiful DRIADA

It seemed to me in the Garden's Mraka.

Oh how wonderful you are your world

Sonya, Greeks, Pray!

How did you hurt him!

And our - and he is poor, and Sir,

And the whole mile is cut aside.

And again new dreams

His laughing, hug;

His air raise

From the ocean fuss.

Picture IV

In the country where live keys are sparkled;

Where, wonderfully shining, shine rays;

Breathing Amrama and Roses Night

Luxurious Blue Ether;

And in the air clouds of smoking hang;

Mangosteen fruits are burning;

Meadows Kandaharian sparkles the carpet;

And the heavenly tent will be safe;

Luxurious rain bright colors,

That shine, trembling swarms of moths; -

I see there Peri: in the slaughter she

Does not see, not a member, dreams are full.

As the sun, two, the eyes of heavenly burn;

Like hemaceagara, so curls shine;

Breathing - Lilies of Silver Chad,

When falling asleep

And the wind will be sighing sometimes;

Or flutter silver wings

When they sound, sprinkle, escribed,

Il of the splas of chindars of mysterious jets;

And what's the smile? And what a kiss?

But I see how the air, she is flying,

In the edges of the Podnebyss, to the Pets in a hurry.

Wait, look back! It does not make it.

And in the rainbow sink, and now it is not visible.

But the memory of the world remains for a long time,

And the blessing all the air wore.

* * *

Living youths arepoly

So stood up dreams.

Sometimes heavenly features

Souls of excellent impressive

It was lying on it; But what

In the waves of his heart

I was looking for a duke of unclear,

What wanted what I wanted

Why flew so much

Soul and greedy, and passionate,

As if the world wanted to hug, -

Togo himself could not understand.

It seemed to him stuffy, dusty

In this dotted country;

And the heart beat strongly, strongly

On the far, far side.

Then when would you see

How the raw breasts receded

How predominantly tremble,

How heart eager to get down

To his dream, the dream is unclear;

Which dust in him was beautiful;

What a hot tears

Live pulled out eyes.

Picture VI

From Vismar in two miles that village

Where the persons limited to the persons of our world.

I do not know how now, but Lüneensdorf

She then cheerful, called.

Updated Belleet Modest House

Wilhelma Bauch, Mud. - long ago

Married a pastor daughter,

He made him! Cheerful house!

It is painted with green paint, indoor

Beautiful and ring tile;

Around chestnuts standing

Navischi branches as if in the windows

Want to tire; because of them flashes

Laptop grille, beautiful

And slyly made by Wilhelm himself;

It hangs and snake it hop;

From the windows stretched the pole on it underwear

Shines white before the sun. Here

In a break in the attic one flock

Shaggy pigeons; broken Clochut

Turkey; Clapping meets day

Krikun Rooster and in the yard is important

Between the pesting chickens, he heaps jumps

Grainy; walk there two

Manual goats and frolic

Fascinated grass. For a long time smoked

So smoke from white pipes, curly he

The clouds have grown up.

From the other side where paint rolled from the walls

And gray stuck bricks,

Where the ancient chestnuts got shadow

Which the sun ran

When the top of their wind is ravar, -

Under the shadow of those trees forever cute

Stood in the morning a dub table, all clean

Covered with tablecloth and all stolen

Fascinous meal: Yellow delicious cheese,

Radish and oil in porcelain duck,

And beer, wine, and sweet bisheff,

And sugar, and brown waffles;

In a basket, ripe, brilliant fruits:

Transparent border, fragrant raspberry,

And like amber yellowing pears

And plum blue, and bright peach,

In the intricate, everything was ordered.

Today celebrated Live Wilhelm

Birth of his wife's dear spouse

With pastor and dragium daughters:

Louise senior and smaller fanny.

But Fanny no, she went long ago

Hanz's call and did not return. Right,

He somewhere in thought wanders.

And cute Louise looks everything

Carefully on the dark window

Neighbor Ganza. Two steps after all

To him; But my Louise did not go:

So that he noticed in her face

Tooching up, so as not to read

In her eyes he is eagerly reproached.

Here says Wilhelm, Father, Louise:

"Look, you are Ganz Files by Procedure:

Why does he not go to us for so long?

After all, you yourself spoiled him. "

And the child Louise is in response:

"I'm afraid to chew a beautiful me ganza:

Already he is sick, pale, hood ... "

- "What is the disease," the mother said,

Live Berta: "Not a disease, longing

Unwanted to him itself stuck;

That marries, and longing will disappear.

So the young escape, completely nice

Sprayed with rain, in a moment blooms;

And what's wife, how not to have a husband? "

"Speech smart", the gray pastor proved:

"Everything, Believe, will pass when God wants,

And be in all of his holy will. " -

Already twice it from the tube knocked

Ash, and in the argument took Wilhelm,

Talking about newspaper news,

About the evil fault, about the Greeks and about the Turks,

About Missalungi, about the affairs of war,

About the glorious leader bell1

About the canign, about parliament,

About disasters and rebellion in Madrite.

How suddenly Louise screamed and mig

Seeing Ganz, rushed to him.

The air mill hugging her slim,

With a wave of a young man kissed her.

While turning to him, Pastor is pallp:

"Eh, ashamed, Ganz, forget your friend!

What, if I have already forgotten Louise,

Is it about us, old men, and think? " - "Full

You are all the Gunza, Patek, chew ",

Tried Berta: "We are better to sit down

Now at the table, everything will be flooded:

And porridge with rice and wine soul

And sugar peas, hot peel,

Grilled with raisins in oil. " Here

At the table they sit peacefully;

And soon IMG wine revived everything

And, light, laugh in the soul shed.

Old Man hidden and Fritz on a ring flute

According to the hostess in honor.

Everyone rushed and swing in the waltz.

Swimming, ruddy our Wilhelm

Embedded himself with his wife, as with a dip;

As vikhore, carried GANC with his Louise

In a burly waltz; and before them the world

Spread all in a wonderful, noisy strict.

And dear Louise go,

Not to see around can not, all

In the moving lost. Imi

Do not pour, says Pastor:

"Caverny, wonderful couple!

Mila my cheerful Louise,

Beautiful and smart and modest HANC; -

They are created for each other

And happily spend your life.

Thank you, oh God merciful!

That he sent grace to old age

My extended the drains forces -

To see such beautiful grandchildren,

To say, passing goodbye to the Old Tel;

Lovely I saw on the earth. "

Picture VII

With a cool calm quiet evening

Descends; Farewell rays

Kiss where - where the gloomy sea;

And sparks alive, gold

Trees TRONATES; And in the distance

Seen, through the fog sea, rocks,

All multicolored. Very calmly.

Rushing away from fun shores,

Yes quiet noise in water spilled fish

Slightly run and take the sea ripples,

Yes swallow, wing of shuffling the sea,

Circles in air sliding gives.

Here is a scrast away, like a point, boat;

And who is in him, in that boat, sitting?

Pastor sits, our old man is gray

And with expensive spouse Wilhelm;

And having funny always Saluna Fanny,

With fishing in hand and swallowed with railing

Laughing, rugged waves talked;

Near the stern with Louise Mila Ganz.

And long all in silence admired:

How widespread widespread

Wave and in the splashes of firewalls, suddenly

Oral torn, flutter;

How clarified pink range

And the south wind of the breath yumania.

And here is the pastor, performed by the dying,

Speak: "How Miles this God's evening!

Beautiful, quietly, how good life

Sinless; it also peacefully

Cums the path and tears of dying

Sacred ashes, beautiful, froths.

It's time for me; The term is assigned

And soon, soon I will not be yours

But is it perfectly beautiful? .. "

Everyone was slandered. GANC who is a song

Talked on sweet bobbo

Thought and dropped the oboe;

And again Sleep some sore

His man; thoughts rushed

And wonderful to the soul flashed.

And so he says Louise:

"Tell me, Ganz, when you still love

Me when I wake up

At least pity, at least a living compassion

In your soul, do not flip me, say, -

Why is one with some book

Are you sitting in the night? (I can see everything

And the windows are each other we are against each other).

Why are you sick of all? Why are sad?

Oh, how your sad kind is worried about!

Oh, how my sadness is sad! "

And, the touched, embarrassed by GANC;

Her to his chest presses,

And splashed the unwitting tear.

"Do not ask me, my Louise,

And not many anxiety.

When I seem immersed in thought -

Believe, busy and then one thing

And I think I, how to turn away

All from you sad doubts,

How joy is yours fill the heart,

As if your soul keep quiet,

WRITE YOUR Children's innocent:

So that the incredible is not approaching

So that the shadow of longing did not touch

So that your happiness is always blooming. "

Going towards him head on the chest,

In excess of feelings, in the appreciation of the heart

It can not express the word. -

On the shore carried the boat smoothly

And suddenly moored. Everyone came out

IMG from it. "Well! Beware, children, "-

Said Wilhelm: "Here is raw and dew,

So as not to naigue the cough blast. " -

Dear Ganz our think: "What will happen

When hear what would know

Shouldn't she? " And it looks at her

And he feels in the heart of the ukrizna:

As if unkind what did

As if before God was hypocritic.

Painting VIII.

On the tower beats a midnight hour.

So, it is an hour, an hour of the Duma,

As Ganz one always sits!

Light lamps trembling in front of him

And pale dusk illuminates

No matter how doubt breaks.

All sleeps. Note Blind

It will not meet anyone on the field;

And, as a distant conversation,

Wave noise, and shines the month.

Everything is quiet, the night is breathing.

Now his deep dum

Does not disturb day noise:

Over it is so silence.

And what is she? - she gets up,

Sit down right by the window:

"He will not look, not notify,

And I will see for him;

Does not sleep for my happiness! ..

Bless, Lord, Him! "

Wave noise, and shines the month.

And here it is a dream

And the head is unwittingly clone.

But Ganz is still sinking in thoughts,

They are deeply immersed deeply.

Lie soul, the fame of loved

Nonignificance in the world to love?

Lie soul, fortunately not cooled,

Do not eat the wise of the world?

And in it a wonderful not to meet?

Existence not to mark?

Why do you go down so you,

Land Luxury Territories?

And day and night, like birds pitches,

And day and night dreams to bust,

I am enchanted by you.

I am your! I am your! From this desert

Attooth I am in the paradise;

As a pilgrim wander to the shrine,

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

The ship will go, splash the waves;

They feel the fun, fun.

And he will fall, the cover is unclear,

By whom you knew you a dream,

And the world is beautiful, the world is beautiful

Will assign wonderful gates

To make a young man ready

And in pleasure, forever new.

Creators of wonderful impressions!

Cutter Your brush I will see

And your fiery creations

My soul will be mine.

Shumi w, my ocean is wide!

Carrying my lonely ship!

And you sorry, my corner is cramped,

And the forest, and the field! Meadow, sorry!

Kropy you often rain heaven!

And God forbid to bloom!

For you soul as if the guard is children,

The last time hug you craves

Sorry, my angel is serethny!

Chela tears not krophi!

Do not indulge the rebel

And Ganz Poor Sorry!

Do not cry, do not cry, I will soon be

I will return - you will forget? ..

Picture IX.

Who is later sometimes

Steps quietly, carefully?

Cogniza is visible behind his back,

Staff behind the lines of road.

Right house in front of him

Left far road

Forty he wants sim

And asks hardness from God.

But torment Tom's flour,

Back he draws legs

And in the house he hurts.

One window is open in it;

Living, prepays

The beauty-maiden is cleaned

And, imay wind over it wing,

She dreams wonderful inspirers;

And, they, cute, full,

Here she smiles.

With peasant to her suitable ...

Breasts shy; Tears shake ...

And on the beautiful leads

His shiny eyes.

He leaned toward her, burns,

It kisses and dresses.

And, shuddering, quickly he runs

Again expensive distant;

But the troubled look is grathed

But sad in this soul is deep.

He looked back:

But the mist is the neighborhood of Croet,

And the junior boobs boobs,

Farewell sending a look.

Wind, awakened, harsh

Swung green Dubrovy.

Everything disappeared into Dali empty.

Through the dream is only a vague sometimes -

Gottlieb the gatekeeper seemed to hear

That someone came out of the wicket,

Yes loyal dog, as it were,

Sounded the whole courtyard.

Picture X.

It does not ride a long bright leader.

Rainily morning; On Polyany

Gray fogs are lying;

Rings on roofing frequent rain.

With the glow, beautiful woke up;

Itself is divided that she

Sleeping the night of the window.

By adjusting the curls, smiled,

But, against will, look alive,

Shut off an annoying tear.

"What does Ganz come for so long?

He promised me to be a little light.

What day! longing gave;

Fog thick on the field goes,

And wind whistles; But there is no Ganz. "

Full of live impatience

Looks at a cute window:

It does not fall out.

Ganz, right, sleep, and dreams

He is creating any subject;

But a day for a long time. RVUM Valley

Rain streams; Top oaks

Noisy; And Ganz is not like not.

Soon noon. Notice

Fog goes; The forest is silent;

Thunder in thinking

Away ... seven-color arc

Burning in the sky paradise;

Toilen by the sparks of an ancient oak;

And songs ringing from the village

Sound; And Ganz is not like not.

What did it mean? .. finds

And at the door ... he! He! .. Ah, no, not him!

In a row with a pink deceased,

In a color apron with border

Berta comes: "My Angel!

Tell me what happened to you?

You sleep all the night restlessly;

You're all Tomna, you are all pale.

Will it rain prevented noisy?

Or roaring a wave?

Or rooster, whitish bang,

All night not knowing sleep?

Ile disturbed the spirit of unclean

In a dream, the maiden's clean,

Inspired black sadness?

Tell me, you all sorry! " -

"No, I did not interfere with my rain ruddy,

And not roaring wave

And not rooster, screaming

All night not knowing sleep;

Not these dreams, not those sorrow

I was excited Mladouge to me.

Not my spirit is indignant,

Something I dreamed of a wonderful dream.

"I dreamed: In the dark, I'm desert,

Around me fog and wilderness.

And on a swampy plain

There is no place where I would like.

Heavy smell; Topko, visco;

That step, then the abyss under me:

I'm afraid to step my foot;

And suddenly I had so hard,

So hard that can't say ...

Where neither ganz wild, strange,

- Blood ran, rolling out of the wound -

Suddenly he began to cry;

But instead of tears, flows flowed

Some kind of purple water ...

I woke up: on the chest, on cheeks,

On curls Roma head,

Ran rain rain annoying;

And it was not gratifying to heart.

My premonition takes ...

And I did not squeeze Kudrey;

And I walked all morning;

Where is he? And what about him? What does it go? "

Stands, shakes head,

Reasonable, before her mother:

"Well, daughter! I am with your mischievous

I do not know how to cope.

Let's go to him, we know,

Yes, be holy power with us! "

Here are entering the room;

But everything is empty. Aside

Lies, in thick dust, that long,

Plato and Schiller wayward,

Petrarch, Tick, Aristophane

Yes forgotten Winelman;

Slices of wasopted paper;

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