Vania (in a coachman's jacket).
Daddy! who built this road?
Daddy (in a coat with a red lining).
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling!

Conversation in the carriage

I

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired strength;
Ice is fragile on the icy river
Like melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.

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

All is well under the moonlight
I recognize my native Russia everywhere ...
I fly fast on cast-iron rails,
I think my thought ...

II

“Good dad! Why in charm
Keep a smart Vanya?
Let me be with moonlight
Show him the truth.

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

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

It was he who drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle
Calling these barren wilds to life,
They found a coffin here for themselves.

Straight path: narrow embankments,
Posts, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many there are! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass ...
What is there? Dead crowd!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
They run by sides.
Do you hear the singing? .. „On this moonlit night
Love us to see our work!

We struggled in the heat, in the cold,
With your back always bent
We lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Frozen and wet, sick with scurvy.

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

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

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

It's a shame to be shy, to be covered with a glove.
You’re not small! .. Rus hair,
You see, standing, exhausted by fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangled hair;

I will wash my chest, which is diligently on the spade
I spent the whole century day after day ...
You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was hard for a man to get his bread!

I did not straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still now: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
Hollow ground hollows!

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

Don't be shy about your dear homeland ...
Endured enough Russian people,
He took out this railroad too -
Whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will make a way for himself with his chest.
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither for me, nor for you. "

III

The whistle is deafening this minute
Screamed - the crowd of the dead has disappeared!
“I saw, daddy, I am an amazing dream, -
Vanya said, - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and he he told me:
"Here they are - the builders of our road! .." "
The general burst out laughing!

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

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

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

Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! ..
However, it's time to get busy with Vanyusha;

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

IV

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

Gathered in a tight crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads tightly:
Every contractor should stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything in the book -
Did he take to the bathhouse, did the patient lie down:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Come on! .. “They waved their hand ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squishy, ​​red as copper,
The contractor rides along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.

Idle people make way decorously ...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo:
“Okay ... not a thing ... well done! .. well done! ..

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

Someone "hurray" shouted. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look:
The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ...
Here even the lazy one could not resist!

The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant
With a shout of "hurray!" Rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General? .. "

Glorious Autumn

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired strength;

Ice is fragile on the icy river

Like melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,

You can sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not yet had time to fade,

Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights

Clear, quiet days ...

There is no disgrace in nature! And kochi,

And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight,

I recognize my native Russia everywhere ...

I fly fast on cast-iron rails,

I think my thought ...

N. Nekrasov

Golden autumn

Autumn. Fairy palace

Open for everyone to review.

Forest paths clearings,

Looking into the lakes.

As in the painting exhibition:

Halls, halls, halls, halls

Elm, ash, aspen

In unprecedented gilding.

Linden hoop gold -

Like a crown on a newlywed.

The face of a birch - under the veil

Wedding and transparent.

Buried earth

Under foliage in ditches, holes.

In the yellow maples of the outbuilding,

As if in gilded frames.

Where are the trees in September

At dawn they stand in pairs

And the sunset on their crust

Leaves a trace of amber.

Where you can't step into the ravine

So that it does not become known to everyone:

So raging that not a step,

There is a woody leaf underfoot.

Where it sounds at the end of the alleys

Echo at the steep descent

And dawn the cherry glue

It solidifies in the form of a clot.

Autumn. Ancient corner

Old books, clothes, weapons,

Where is the treasure catalog

Leafs through the cold.

B. Pasternak

Plums are falling in the garden

A noble treat to the wasps ...

Yellow leaf bathed in the pond

And welcomes the early fall.

He pictured himself as a ship

The wind of wanderings shook him.

So we will sail after him

To the unknown moorings in life.

And we already know by heart:

In a year there will be a new summer.

Why is universal sadness

In every line of poetry?

Because there are traces in the dew

Wash away the showers and cold out the winters?

Because all the moments

Fleeting and unique?

L. Kuznetsova

"Autumn. Silence in the dacha village ..."

Autumn. Silence in the dacha village,

And desertedly ringing on the ground.

A cobweb in a transparent air

Cold as a crack in glass

Through the sandy pink pines

The roof is turning blue with the cockerel;

In a light haze, the velvet sun -

Like a peach touched by a fluff.

At sunset, lush, but not abrupt,

The clouds are waiting for something, frozen;

Holding hands, emanate brilliance

The last two, the most gold ones;

Both turn their faces to the sun,

Both fade at one end;

The elder one carries the feather of the firebird,

The youngest is a feather of a fire chick.

N. Matveeva

Overnight

October! .. Trees await snow,

The floods of the rivers were quietly locked up ...

I chose a stack for myself for the night

Where the night found me on the way.

Like fireflies in a slumbering swamp

The stars trembled in the black heights;

The earth chilled on its night flight

In a dream, she clung tenderly to me.

And I, covering my feet with dry straw

And putting a gun under his head,

I got warm myself and soon little by little

He warmed a huge one - her ...

The dawn flowed into the breaks of leaden clouds,

For the whole day, for many, many years

The earth gave me the sun again,

From the dark night

Into dawn!

"Railway"

Vanya (in a coachman's jacket).
Daddy! who built this road?
Daddy (in a coat with a red lining)
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling!
Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired strength;
Ice is fragile on the icy river
Like melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.

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

All is well under the moonlight
I recognize my native Russia everywhere ...
I fly fast on cast-iron rails,
I think my thought ...

Good dad! Why in charm
Keep a smart Vanya?
Let me be with the moonlight
Show him the truth.

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

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

It was he who drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle
Calling these barren wilds to life,
They found a coffin here for themselves.

Straight path: narrow embankments,
Posts, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many there are! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass ...
What is there? Dead crowd!

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

We struggled in the heat, in the cold,
With your back always bent
We lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Frozen and wet, sick with scurvy.

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

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

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

It's a shame to be shy, to be covered with a glove,
You’re not small! .. Rus hair,
You see, standing, exhausted by fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangled hair;

I will wash my chest, which is diligently on the spade
I spent the whole century day after day ...
You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was hard for a man to get his bread!

I did not straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still now: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
Hollow ground hollows!

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

Don't be shy about your dear homeland ...
Endured enough Russian people,
He took out this railroad too -
Whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will make a way for himself with his chest.
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither for me, nor for you.

The whistle is deafening this minute
Screamed - the crowd of the dead has disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I am an amazing dream, -
Vanya said, - five thousand men,

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

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

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

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

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! ..
However, it's time to get busy with Vanyusha;

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

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

Gathered in a tight crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads tightly:
Every contractor should stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything in the book -
Did he take to the bathhouse, did the patient lie down:
"Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Why, come on! .. "They waved their hand ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squishy, ​​red as copper,
The contractor rides along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.

Idle people make way decorously ...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo:
"Okay ... not a thing ... well done! .. well done! ..

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

Someone yelled "hurray". Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look:
The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ...
Here even the lazy one could not resist!

The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant
Shouting "hurray!" rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General? ..