The magazine became the spiritual leader of the generation of the sixties. Poets of the Sixties and Dementiev who joined them
Reading competition "A poet in Russia is more than a poet"
Goals: improve the skills and abilities of the artistic expressive reading; cultivate a sense of beauty, a love of high art.
Epigraph: Not the poet who knows how to weave rhymes / And, creaking with feathers, does not spare paper: / good verses not so easy to write. (A. S. Pushkin)
Event progress
The sky will be covered
dust particles of stars
and the branches will bend elastically.
I will hear you for a thousand miles.
We are Echo,
We are Echo,
We are a long echo of each other.
And I'm up to you
wherever you are
touching the heart is not difficult.
Again, love has called us.
We are tenderness
We are tenderness.
We are each other's eternal tenderness.
And even in the edge
creeping darkness,
beyond the death circle
I know we won't part with you.
We are memory
We are memory.
We -
stellar memory of each other.
THANK YOU LIFE! Thank you, life, for the fact that the day comes again,
That bread is ripening and that children are growing up.
Thank you life for all of you native people,
Living in such a vast world.
Thank you, life, for this generous age
It sounded in me either generosity or pain
For the breadth of your roads, in which a person,
Having experienced everything, it becomes itself.
Because you are a river without banks,
For each of your spring and winter,
For all friends and even for enemies -
Thanks life. Thank you for everything!
For tears and for happiness in reality,
Because you didn't feel sorry for me
For every moment that I live
But not for the one in which I will stop.
Thank you life that I am indebted to you,
For past and future strength.
For all that I still have time and I can,
Thank you life, thank you indeed.
BELLA AHMADULINA "OH MY SHY HERO..."
Oh my shy hero
you have cleverly avoided shame.
How long have I played the part
without relying on a partner!
To your damned help
I never ran.
Among the wings, among the shadows
you were saved, invisible to the eye.
But in this shame and delirium
I walked before the cruel public -
everything is in trouble, everything is in sight,
everything in this role is lonely.
Oh, how you cackled, parterre!
You did not forgive me the obvious
shameful of my losses,
my smile harmlessness.
And greedily walked your herds
drink from my sorrow.
Alone, alone - in the midst of shame
I stand with slumped shoulders.
But the reckless crowd
the real hero is not visible.
Hero, how scared you are!
Don't be afraid, I won't betray you.
All our role is my only role.
I lost badly in it.
All our pain is my only pain.
But how much pain. How. How.
EVGENY YEVTUSHENKO "THE IT'S SNOWING, AND IT'S SNOWING..."
And it's snowing, and it's snowing
And everything around is waiting for something ...
Under this snow, under quiet snow,
I want to say to everyone:
"My most main man,
Take a look at this snow with me -
He is pure, like what I am silent about,
What I want to say."
Who brought me my love?
Probably a good Santa Claus.
When I look out the window with you
I thank the snow.
And it's snowing, and it's snowing
And everything flickers and floats.
Because you are in my destiny
Thank you snow.
EVGENY YEVTUSHENKO “THIS IS WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME...” (B. Akhmadulina)
Here's what's happening to me:
but walk in petty fuss
different are not the same.
And he
not with those walks somewhere
and he understands it too
and our discord is inexplicable,
and both suffer with it.
Here's what's happening to me:
puts his hands on my shoulders
and steals me from another.
And that one -
say for God's sake
who should put their hands on their shoulders?
The one from whom I was stolen
Doesn't answer right away.
and unconsciously marks
someone far away.
Oh how nervous
and the sick
unnecessary connections,
Friendship unnecessary!
I'm already restless!
Oh somebody
come,
break
strangers
connectedness
and disunity
close souls!
E. Evtushenko
There are no uninteresting people in the world.
Their fates are like the histories of the planets.
Each has everything special, its own,
and there are no planets like it.
And if someone lived unnoticed
and was friends with this invisibility,
he was interesting among people
by its very lack of interest.
Everyone has their own secret private world.
There is the best moment in this world.
There is the most terrible hour in this world,
but all this is unknown to us.
And if a person dies
with him his first snow dies,
and the first kiss, and the first fight...
He takes all this with him.
Yes, books and bridges remain
machines and artists canvases,
yes, much is destined to stay,
but something is still missing!
Such is the law of the ruthless game.
Not people die, but worlds.
We remember people, sinful and earthly.
And what did we really know about them?
What do we know about brothers, about friends,
what do we know about our only one?
And about his own father
we, knowing everything, know nothing.
EVGENY YEVTUSHENKO "PRAYER BEFORE A POEM"
(From the poem "Bratskaya HPP")
A poet in Russia is more than just a poet.
It is destined to be born poets
only to those in whom the proud spirit of citizenship roams,
for whom there is no comfort, there is no rest.
The poet in it is the image of his century
and future ghostly prototype.
The poet brings, without falling into timidity,
the end of everything that came before
Can I? Culture is missing...
The grasp of prophecies does not promise ...
But the spirit of Russia hovers over me
and boldly try orders.
And, kneeling quietly,
ready for death and victory,
I humbly ask you for help
great Russian poets...
Give me, Pushkin, your melodiousness,
his loose speech
his captivating fate -
as if shalya, burn with a verb.
Give, Lermontov, your bilious look,
its contempt poison
and the cell of a closed soul,
where he breathes, hidden in silence,
unkindness of your sister -
lamp of secret goodness.
Give, Nekrasov, calming my agility,
the pain of your excised muse -
at the front entrances and rails
and in the open spaces of forests and fields.
Give your ugliness strength.
Give me your painful feat,
to go, dragging all of Russia,
how barge haulers go towed.
Oh, give me, block, nebula prophesy
and two leaning wings,
so that, melting the eternal riddle,
music flowed through the body.
Give, Pasternak, the shift of days,
branch confusion,
fusion of smells, shadows
with the torment of the century,
so that the word, mumbling with a garden,
blossomed and ripe
so that your candle is forever
burned in me.
Yesenin, give me tenderness for happiness
to birches and meadows, to animals and people
and to everything else on earth,
that you and I love so defenselessly.
Give me, Mayakovsky, lumpiness, riot, bass,
intransigence formidable to the scum,
so that I can cut through time,
tell your comrades-descendants about it ...
E. Evtushenko
Here's what's happening to me:
my old friend does not go to me,
but walk in petty fuss
different are not the same.
And he
not with those walks somewhere
and he understands it too
and our discord is inexplicable,
and we both suffer with him.
Here's what's happening to me:
not at all the same comes to me,
puts his hands on my shoulders
and steals me from another.
And that one -
say for God's sake
who should put their hands on their shoulders?
Ta,
from whom I was stolen
in retaliation, too, will steal.
Doesn't answer right away.
but will live with himself in the struggle
and unconsciously marks
someone far away.
Oh how much
nervous
and the sick
unnecessary connections,
Friendship unnecessary!
Where do I go from this?!
Oh somebody come break
strangers connection
and disunity
close souls!
ANDREY VOSNEENSKY "SAGA"
You wake me up at dawn
you will go out unshod.
You will never forget me.
You will never see me.
Shielding you from the cold
I think: "God Almighty!
I will never forget you.
I will never see you."
This water in the goosebumps of the dam,
this is the Admiralty and the Stock Exchange
I will never forget
and I will never see again.
Do not blink, tear from the wind
hopeless brown cherries.
Coming back is a bad omen.
I will never see you.
Even if we return to earth
we secondarily, according to Hafiz,
Of course, we'll take care of you.
I will never see you.
And it will turn out so minimal
our misunderstanding with you
before the future misunderstanding
two living with an inanimate void.
And sway with meaningless heights
a couple of phrases from here:
"I will never forget you.
I will never see you".
3. Results of the competition.
the sixties is a galaxy of writers who declared themselves in the late 1850s-60s: N.V. Uspensky (1837-89), N.G. Pomyalovsky (1835-63), F.M. Reshetnikov (1841-75), V.A. Sleptsov (1836-78), A.I. Levitov (1835-77) and others. Most of them belonged to the class of raznochintsy; they came from the midst of the small provincial clergy, as a rule, graduated from the seminary. The path to literature for this generation was opened by the journal strategy of N.A. Nekrasov, which he carried out in Sovremennik, as well as the literary criticism of N.A. Dobrolyubov and N.G. Chernyshevsky: the latter’s article “Is the change beginning?” (1861), which gave high mark Uspensky's stories, served as a kind of manifesto for the literature of the sixties.
A significant role in the popularization and approval of the work of writers of the sixties was played by the criticism of D.I. Uspensky's collection Stories (1861) was followed by a number of works that cemented the reputation of a new literary phenomenon for the work of representatives of this generation. The genres of the cycle of essays and short stories dominated in their work: “Essays of the Bursa” (1862-63) by Pomyalovsky; "Steppe essays" (1865-66), "Moscow holes and slums" (1866), "Woe of villages, roads and cities" (1869) Levitov; "Vladimirka and Klyazma" (1861) and "Letters about Ostashkov" (1862-63) by Sleptsov - and a short story: "Podlipovtsy" (1864), "Miners" (1866-68) by Reshetnikov; Petty-bourgeois Happiness (1860) and Molotov (1861) by Pomyalovsky, Hard Times (1865) by Sleptsov.
The central theme of creativity of the sixties
The life of the common people, peasants, the lower classes of the urban world became the central theme of the work of the sixties. The image of the people they created shocked contemporaries with unheard-of ruthlessness and naturalism. The lower classes of society were portrayed as beings incapable of understanding the simplest laws and civil social institutions. Such a vision was due not only to the life experience of raznochintsy, who faced the cruelty of life, an unsightly life in childhood and youth, but also to the ideology of radical revolutionaries that they perceived and sought to reflect in their works: it was based on the idea of a person as a biological being. whose life is governed primarily by physiological needs. As a result, the people of the sixties become the absolute slave of the existing social order. This pessimism made the works of the sixties not entirely acceptable not only to hostile criticism, but also to those ideologues who initially inspired and highly praised their work.
Another the most important theme in the work of the sixties was the difficult path of a person from a diverse environment to knowledge, his self-affirmation in society. Faced with an alien noble environment, which occupied a central position in culture, the raznochinets feel their inferiority, lack of education and upbringing. The hero of the sixties chooses a compromise, like Molotov in Pomyalovsky's dilogy, who decides to adapt, winning at the cost of a kind of mimicry the inner space for the realization of his personal needs. Only in "Hard Times" by Sleptsov is a raznochinets, self-confident, easily winning in the spiritual and moral duel of an aristocratic landowner.
The creative path of the sixties
The creative path of the sixties ended in a spiritual dead end: they created a tragic image of a man who rejected God and idols, but failed to find other spiritual supports and therefore ended his life in the emptiness of despair.
The sixties is also the designation of the generation Soviet people 1960s In literature, this designation is both more specific and more vague: the sixties are participants in the literary struggle, especially on the pages of "thick magazines", and spokesmen for new ideas, even a new sense of life that arose during the post-Stalin "thaw". As an ironic counterpart to more enduring, recurring trends Russian history, the paraterm "Sixties" contains a reference to the "Sixties" of the 19th century. Despite the fact that people spoke about the Sixties rather retrospectively and distancing themselves in later decades, sometimes one-sidedly and not always fairly, the phenomenon of the Sixties, as it usually happens, is deeper and more ambiguous than what this word often denotes. First of all, the sixties are not only and not even so much a generation or certain figures, writers, critics, but an elusive, although quite definite socio-cultural atmosphere, a “through mindset” of the era: this is also more common between the USSR and the West - and contrary to, and thanks to the Berlin Wall erected in 1961 - a problem-atmospheric constellation (orderliness) of time and language.
The Sixties are actually people of different generations, different views and worldviews, different cultural worlds. The sixties are poets E.A. Yevtushenko, A.A. Voznesensky, but also a participant in the Patriotic War and the son of a repressed communist, poet and bard B.Sh. Okudzhava, whose “commissars in dusty helmets” set the tone for romantic memory and romantic progressism of the sixties. This includes the greatest Soviet philosopher M.K. A.G. Bitov as the author of "Lessons of Armenia" (1967-69), "Pushkin House" (1971, published in 1978); the author of the memoirs "People, years, life" (1961-65) I. G. Erenburg and the new figure of A. I. Solzhenitsyn with obvious features of anti-Sovietism; this is E. Neizvestny, who tried to convince N. S. Khrushchev of the compatibility of the new art with the Soviet regime, but also Ven. Erofeev with his poem in prose "Moscow - Petushki" (1969), Rabelaisian-Kafkaesque waste to the Soviet consciousness in general. In the social and literary life of the 1960s, which was not yet completely divided, as later, into official and unofficial samizdat (although the literary fate of A. Sinyavsky and Y. Daniel, convicted in 1966, as well as Solzhenitsyn’s works that went on the lists, was the forerunner of such a division), the concept of “Sixties” is associated in particular with the activities of the “New World”, edited by A.T. but the account presented by the Soviet reality Soviet power, was too great: it was incompatible not only with the “Leninist norms of party life,” as it was called on official language, but, in in a certain sense, and with the literary, aesthetic and socio-political convictions of the sixties, who grotesquely reproduced - in a sort of inverted Soviet situation of the 20th century - the views of the revolutionary democrats and the sixties of the previous century. The Sixties in the public consciousness, in literature, art and lifestyle historically exhausted themselves at the turn of the 1990s, along with the collapse of totalitarianism and communism.
Plan
Introduction
1 1930s
2 War
3 XX congress
4 Prose
5 Poetry
6 Art song
7 "Physicists" and "lyricists"
8 Hikers
9 Film and theater
10 Painting
11 Stagnation
12 Religion
13 Perestroika
14 History of the term
15 Representatives
Bibliography
Introduction
The Sixties is a subculture of the Soviet intelligentsia, which mainly captured the generation born approximately between 1925 and 1945. historical context who formed the views of the "sixties" were the years of Stalinism, the Great Patriotic War and the thaw period.
Most of the "sixties" came from the intelligentsia or the party milieu that had formed in the 1920s. Their parents, as a rule, were convinced Bolsheviks, often participants civil war. Belief in communist ideals was self-evident for the majority of the "sixties"; their parents dedicated their lives to the struggle for these ideals.
However, even in childhood they had to go through a worldview crisis, since it was this environment that suffered the most from the so-called Stalinist “purges”. Some of the "sixties" parents were imprisoned or shot. Usually this did not cause a radical revision of views - however, it forced more reflection and led to hidden opposition to the regime.
The Great Patriotic War had a huge impact on the worldview of the sixties. In 1941, the older part of the generation was 16 years old - and many volunteered for the front. Most of them, in particular, almost the entire Moscow militia, died in the same year. But for those who survived, the war became the main experience in life. A collision with life and death, with a mass of real people and real life countries, not camouflaged by propaganda, required to form their own opinion. In addition, the atmosphere on the front line, in a situation of real danger, was incomparably freer than in civilian life. Finally, the existential front-line experience forced a generally different attitude to social conventions. Former tenth-graders and first-year students returned from the front as completely different, critical and self-confident people.
3. XX Congress
However, they were disappointed. Contrary to the mass expectations of the intelligentsia that after the war liberalization and humanization of the system would come, the Stalinist regime became even tougher and more uncompromising. A wave of obscurantism in the spirit of the Middle Ages swept across the country: the fight against "formalism", cybernetics, genetics, killer doctors, cosmopolitanism, etc. Anti-Western propaganda intensified. In the meantime, most of the sixties front-line soldiers returned to the student benches, strongly influencing their younger comrades.
The defining events in the life of a generation were Stalin's death and N. S. Khrushchev's report at the 20th Congress of the CPSU (1956), which exposed Stalin's crimes. For most of the “sixties” the 20th Congress was a catharsis that resolved a long-term ideological crisis that reconciled them with the life of the country. The liberalization of public life that followed the 20th Congress, known as the era of the "thaw", became the context vigorous activity"sixties".
The sixties actively supported the “return to Leninist norms”, hence the apology of V. Lenin (poems by A. Voznesensky and E. Yevtushenko, plays by M. Shatrov, prose by E. Yakovlev) as an opponent of Stalin and the romanticization of the Civil War (B. Okudzhava, Yu. Trifonov , A. Mitta).
The Sixties are staunch internationalists and supporters of a world without borders. It is no coincidence that revolutionaries in politics and art were cult figures for the sixties - V. Mayakovsky, Vs. Meyerhold, B. Brecht, E. Che Guevara, F. Castro, as well as writers E. Hemingway and E. M. Remarque.
The "sixties" expressed themselves most noticeably in literature. The journal played an important role in this. New world”, from 1958 to 1970 edited by Alexander Tvardovsky. The magazine, staunchly professing liberal views, became the main mouthpiece of the "sixties" and was incredibly popular among them. hard to name printed edition that had a comparable impact on the minds of a generation. Tvardovsky, using his authority, consistently published literature and criticism, free from socialist realist attitudes. First of all, these were honest, "trench" works about the war, mostly by young authors - the so-called "lieutenant prose": "In the trenches of Stalingrad" by Viktor Nekrasov, "Span of the earth" by Grigory Baklanov, "Battalions ask for fire" by Yuri Bondarev, " The dead don't hurt” by Vasil Bykov and others. The publication of I. Ehrenburg's memoirs was of great educational value. But, obviously, the main event was the publication in 1962 of Alexander Solzhenitsyn's story "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich" - the first work about Stalin's camps. This publication was almost as critical and cathartic as the 20th Congress itself.
Kataev's "Youth" was very popular among young people.
On the other hand, important role among the "sixties" modernist poetry began to play. Poetry readings for the first time in national history began to gather crowds of young people. As well-known human rights activist Lyudmila Alekseeva wrote:
Passion for poetry has become the banner of the times. People were ill with poetry then, neither before nor later in poetry and in general in literature were not particularly interested. All over Moscow, in institutions and offices, typewriters were loaded to the limit: everyone who could reprint for himself and for friends - poems, poems, poems ... A youth environment was created, the password of which was knowledge of the poems of Pasternak, Mandelstam, Gumilyov. In 1958, a monument to Vladimir Mayakovsky was solemnly opened in Moscow. After the completion of the official opening ceremony, at which the planned poets performed, poetry began to be read by those who wished from the public, mostly young people. The participants of that memorable meeting began to gather at the monument, regularly, until readings were prohibited. The ban was in effect for a while, but then the readings resumed. Meetings at the monument to Mayakovsky during 1958-1961. increasingly political overtones. The last of these took place in the autumn of 1961, when several of the most active participants in the meetings were arrested on charges of anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda.
The organizers of the readings "at Mayak" were future dissidents Vladimir Bukovsky, Yuri Galanskov and Eduard Kuznetsov.
But the tradition of oral poetry did not end there. It was continued by evenings at the Polytechnic Museum. Mostly young poets also performed there: Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Andrey Voznesensky, Bella Akhmadulina, Robert Rozhdestvensky, Bulat Okudzhava.
Filming from the famous readings at the Polytech was included in one of the main "sixties" films - "Ilyich's Outpost" by Marlen Khutsiev, and the listed poets became incredibly popular for several years.
Later, the love of the public passed to the poets of a new genre, generated by the culture of the "sixties": the author's song. His father was Bulat Okudzhava, who began to perform his songs with a guitar in the late 50s - first at parties or just on the boulevard. His songs differed sharply from those broadcast on the radio - primarily in a personal, even private mood. In general, Okudzhava's songs are perhaps the most adequate expression of the attitude of the "sixties". Other authors soon appeared - Alexander Galich, Julius Kim, Novella Matveeva, Yuri Vizbor, who became classics of the genre. Audio samizdat appeared, spreading the voices of bards throughout the country - radio, television and recording were then closed to them.
7. "Physicists" and "lyricists"
The "Sixties" consisted of two interconnected, but different subcultures, jokingly called "physicists" and "lyricists" - representatives of the scientific, technical and humanitarian intelligentsia. In particular, A. Einstein and L. Landau were cult figures whose photos decorated the apartments of people far from physics. Naturally, the "physicists" showed themselves less in art, but the worldview system that arose in their environment was no less (and perhaps more) important in Soviet culture 60s and 70s. Inherent in the culture of "physicists" romanticization scientific knowledge and scientific and technological progress had a huge impact on the development of science and the entire Soviet life. In art, the views of "physicists" were not often manifested - clearest example is the prose of the Strugatsky brothers.
"Physicists" (although their personal views could be quite independent) were much more beloved by the state than "lyricists" - because the defense industry needed them. This is reflected in the well-known line of Slutsky: "Something of physics is held in high esteem, something of lyrics is in the pen." Apparently, this is partly due to the fact that by the 70s the aesthetics of the "physicists" was perceived by the Soviet officialdom - the "science fiction" style became the architectural and design norm of the late USSR.
8. Hikers
In the late 60s, when public life in the country was strangled, among the "physicists" a new subculture arose - hikers. It was based on the romanticization of the taiga (northern, alpine) life of geologists and other field workers. The simplicity, rudeness and freedom of their life were the antithesis of the boring nonsense of the "correct" existence of the urban intellectual. In addition, the image of Siberia evoked associations with the culture of convicts, thieves' freedom, in general, the wrong side of official life. The expression of these sentiments was the film by Kira Muratova " short meetings"(1967) with Vladimir Vysotsky in leading role. Millions of intellectuals began to spend their holidays on long hikes, windbreakers became common intellectual clothing, the central practice of this subculture was collective singing by the fire with a guitar - as a result, the author's song turned into a mass genre. The personification and favorite author of this subculture was the bard Yuri Vizbor. However, its heyday did not fall on the "sixties", but on the next generation.
SIXTY POETS
Remember them, remember us, remember yourself...
From the compiler
Dear colleagues!
I bring to your attention the poems of the sixties - poets whose poems first became known (not necessarily through publications) in the first five-year period of the thaw, after 1956, although some of them, the elders, were published earlier (Levitansky, Slutsky, Galich as a prose writer).
I repeat what it was unprecedented phenomenon when poems, completely unusual for that time, including those belonging to famous writers, appeared to replace the almost quarter-century domination of official Soviet poetry, controlled by the Central Committee and the Cheka.
I dare say that the thaw fundamentally changed the spirit and character of art in general and poetry in particular. Young poets would either not have appeared, or their poems would not have been so outstanding. Even the work of experienced writers (for example, Levitansky) has undergone drastic changes, which cannot be attributed only to “age” factors ...
I have arranged the poets in alphabetical order, choosing them according to my taste. They are, of course, unequal in talent and destiny.
Some poems composed as songs play without music. I consider Voznesensky's "Goya" (where there is no inevitable political tragedy inherent in Aleshkovsky and Galich) to be programmatic and the strongest, which completely shocked us, readers who were brought up not only on standard Soviet, but also on classical Russian poetry...
Sandro Belotsky
Yuz ALESHKOVSKY(born 1929) SONG ABOUT STALIN
Comrade Stalin, you are a great scientist,
You know a lot about linguistics
And I'm a simple Soviet prisoner,
And my friend is a gray Bryansk wolf.
What I'm sitting for, I really don't know
But prosecutors seem to be right.
I am currently sitting inTurukhansk region ,
Where were you in exile under the tsar.
In other people's sins, we immediately confessed,
Step by step they were moving towards an evil fate.
We believed you so, Comrade Stalin,
How, perhaps, they did not believe themselves.
And now I'm sitting in the Turukhansk region,
Where the guards, like dogs, are rude.
I understand all this, of course.
As an exacerbation of the class struggle.
That rain, then snow, then mosquitoes above us,
And we are in the taiga from morning to morning.
You made a flame out of a spark here,
Thank you, I'm warming myself by the fire.
It's harder for you, you are about everyone in the world
Take care in the dreary hour of the night,
Walking in the Kremlin office
Smoke the pipe without closing your eyes.
And we carry a difficult cross for free
Frost smoky and in the anguish of rain,
We, like trees, fall on the bunk,
Not knowing the insomnia of the leaders.
Yesterday we buried two Marxists,
We didn't cover them with kumach.
One of them was a right-wing deviator,
(Option: Brother of the evader)
The other, as it turned out, had nothing to do with it.
He, before dying forever,
I bequeathed the last words to you,
Ordered to sort out the evon case
And he quietly cried out: "Stalin is the head!"
(Option:
He, before parting with his life,
I wrote you a statement until the morning,
In the military case, he asked to understand
And even shouted "Hurrah for Stalin!")
You dream of us when in a party cap
And in a tunic you go to the parade.
We chop wood in a Stalinist way, and chips,
And the chips fly in all directions.
Live a thousand years, Comrade Stalin,
And let me have to die in the taiga,
I believe there will be iron and steel
Quite per capita.
1959
Bella AKHMADULINA(b. 1937)
Along my street which year
footsteps sound - my friends are leaving.
My friends slow departure
that darkness outside the windows is pleasing.
Running my friends deeds,
there is neither music nor singing in their houses,
and only, as before, Degas girls
pigeons straighten their feathers.
Well, well, well, let fear not wake
you, defenseless, in the middle of this night.
A mysterious passion for betrayal,
my friends, clouds your eyes.
Oh loneliness, how cool your character is!
Flashing with an iron compass,
how cold you close the circle,
not heeding the useless assurances.
So call me and reward me!
Your darling, caressed by you,
I will console myself, leaning against your chest,
I will wash with your blue cold.
Let me stand on tiptoe in your forest
at the other end of the slow gesture
find foliage, and bring it to your face,
and feel orphanhood as bliss.
Grant me the silence of your libraries,
your concerts are strict motives,
and - wise - I will forget those
who died or are still alive.
And I will know wisdom and sorrow
objects will entrust their secret meaning to me.
Nature leaning on my shoulders
announce his childhood secrets.
And then - from tears, from darkness,
from the poor ignorance of the past
my friends beautiful features
appear and dissolve again.
1959
Andrey Voznesensky (born 1933)
I am Goya!
The eye sockets of the funnels pecked out to me by the enemy,
flying into the naked field.
I am grief.
I am the throat
A hanged woman whose body is like a bell
beat over the square head ...
I am Goya!
About the bunch
Retribution! Tossed in one gulp to the West -
I am the ashes of the intruder!
And drove strong into the memorial sky
stars -
like nails.
I am Goya.
1959
***
Not a bullet, so gossip
put them in a coffin.
Not with a song, but with a loop
their throats were friends.
And the bullets whistled
as in the holes of clarinets,
in broken heads
the best poets.
They are whistling with blizzards.
Their plenums are judged.
But there is Prometheus.
And there will be no prisoners.
Rushing into belief
Workbench near Moscow.
And I'm an apprentice
in his workshop.
I whistle at random
and so and so.
Down and Out trouble started.
Great workbench.
1957
Who are we - chips or great?
Genius is in the blood of the planet.
There are no "physicists", there are no "lyricists" -
Lilliputians or poets!
Regardless of work
We, like smallpox, took root century.
Stunning - "Who are you?"
We are carried like a cycle track.
Who are you? Who are you? And suddenly - not that?
How wool coat Venus!
Starlings tend to crow,
Architects are poets!
Well, what about you?..
What a month -
You aim at the stars, you knead the roads ...
She graduated from school, threw off her braids,
I stayed a saleswoman - I quit.
And again and again, as in a tag,
Between tabletop posters
silly,
Oleshka,
female,
Out of breath, you stand! ..
Who are you? Who? - You look longingly
In books, in windows - but where are you there? -
You fall like a telescope
To the fixed male pupils...
I wander with you, Verka, Vega...
I myself am in the middle of avalanches,
Like a snowman
Absolutely elusive.
1959
***
FIRE IN ARCHITECTURAL INSTITUTE
Fire in the Architectural!
Through the halls, drawings,
amnesty for prisons -
fire, fire!
On a sleepy facade
shameless, naughty,
red-assed gorilla
the window pops up!
And we are already graduates,
it's time for us to defend.
Cracking in the closet under the seals
my reprimands!
Whatman - as wounded,
red leaf fall.
My stretchers are on fire
cities are burning.
A bottle of kerosene
soared five years and winters ...
Karinochka Krasilnikova,
oh! we're on fire!
Goodbye architecture!
Blaze wide
cowsheds in cupids,
regional clubs in rococo!
O youth, phoenix, fool,
diploma in flames!
You wave your red skirt
and tease with your tongue.
Farewell, it's time for the outskirts!
Life is a change of ashes.
We all burn out.
You live - you burn.
And tomorrow, striking a finger,
pierces like a bee
compass needle
from a handful of ash...
Everything burned clean.
The police are full.
Its end!
Everything is started!
Go to the cinema!
1957
(continuation of the selection - in a few days)