Introduction

Rest is in vain. The road is steep.
The evening is wonderful. I'm knocking on the gate.

It is alien and strict to the long knock,
You scatter pearls all around.

The tower is high, and the dawn has frozen.
The red secret lay at the entrance.

Who set fire to the tower at dawn,
What did the Princess herself erect?

Each skate has a patterned carving
Red flames are thrown towards you.

The dome rises to the azure heights.
The blue windows lit up with a blush.

All the bells are ringing.
The sunsetless outfit is flooded with spring.

Were you waiting for me at sunset?
Did you light the tower? Did you open the gate?

I went out. Slowly we went down
The twilight of winter falls upon the earth.
You were young in days gone by
They came trustingly from the darkness...

They came and stood behind me,
And they sang with the wind about spring...
And I walked with quiet steps,
Seeing eternity in the depths...

Oh, there were better days alive!
To your song from the depths
Dusk fell on the earth
And dreams arose for eternity!..

The wind brought from afar
Songs of spring hint,
Somewhere light and deep
A piece of sky opened up.

In this bottomless azure,
In the twilight of near spring
The winter storms cried
Starry dreams were flying.

Shy, dark and deep
My strings were crying.
The wind brought from afar
Your sonorous songs.

Quiet evening shadows
The snow lies in blue.
Hosts of discordant visions
Your ashes have been disturbed.
You sleep beyond the distant plain,
You sleep in a shroud of snow...
Your swan song
The sounds seemed to me.
A voice calling anxiously
Echo in the cold snow...
Is it possible to be resurrected?
Isn't the past just dust?
No, from the Lord's house
Spirit full of immortality
Relatives and friends came out
Songs to disturb my ears.
Hosts of grave visions,
The sounds of living voices...
Quiet evening shadows
The blue ones touched the snow.

The soul is silent. In the cold sky
The same stars still shine for her.
All around about gold or bread
Noisy people shout...
She is silent - and listens to the screams,
And sees distant worlds,
But alone, two-faced
Prepares wonderful gifts
Prepares gifts for his gods
And, anointed, in silence,
With an untiring ear he catches
The distant call of another soul...

So-white birds over the ocean
Unseparated Hearts
They sound a call beyond the fog,
They understand it only to the end.

You are retreating into the scarlet twilight,
In endless circles.
I heard a small echo,
Distant steps.

Are you close or far
Lost in the heights?
Should I wait for a sudden meeting?
In this resounding silence?

Sounds stronger in silence
Distant steps
Are you closing, flaming,
Endless circles?

On a cold day, on an autumn day
I'll go back there again
Remember this spring sigh,
See the past image.

I'll come and won't pay,
Remembering, I won’t burn.
I'll meet you with a song at random
The dawn of a new autumn.

Evil laws of time
The mournful spirit was put to sleep.
Past howl, past groans
If you don't hear me, I'm extinguished.

The very fire is blind eyes
It will not burn with a former dream.
The very day is darker than the night
Lulled by the soul.

So - they dispersed at dawn.
A.B.

All earthly dreams are flying away,
Alien countries are getting closer.
Countries are cold, dumb,
And without love and without spring.

There - far away, with our eyes open,
Visions of loved ones and relatives
Enter new dungeons
And they look at them indifferently.

There - the mother does not recognize her son,
Passionate hearts will go out...
It's hopelessly fading there
My wandering is endless...

And suddenly, on the eve of imprisonment,
I'll hear distant steps...
You are lonely - in the distance,
Close the last laps...

Before sunset
Among the centuries-old trees
I love unfaithful beauties
Your eyes and your words.

Goodbye, the shadow of the night is coming,
The night is short, like a spring dream,
But I know that tomorrow is a new day,
And a new law for you.

No nonsense, you are not a forest ghost,
But the old man didn't know fairies
With such unfaithful eyes,
With such a changeable soul!

All being and existence agrees
In great, unceasing silence.
Look there sympathetically, indifferently, -
I don't care - the universe is within me.
I feel and I believe and I know
You cannot seduce a seer with sympathy.
I contain in myself abundantly
All those lights that you burn with.
But there is no more weakness or strength,
The past and the future are in me.
All being and existence has frozen
In the great, unchanging silence.
I'm here at the end, full of insight,
I've crossed the line.
I'm just waiting for a conventional vision,
To fly off into another void.

Someone whispers and laughs
Through the azure fog.
Only I will feel sad in silence
Laughter from dear countries again!

Again a whisper - and in whispers
Someone's caress, like in a dream,
In someone's feminine breath,
Apparently, I am forever happy!

Whisper, laugh, darling,
Sweet image, tender dream;
Apparently you have a force that is not from here
Endowed and inspired.

On a white night the month is red
Floats out in the blue.
Ghostly-beautiful wanders,
Reflected in the Neva.

I see and dream
Execution of secret thoughts.
Is there goodness hidden in you?
Red moon, quiet noise?

Heavenly things cannot be measured by the mind,
Azure is hidden from the minds.
Only occasionally do seraphim bring
Sacred dream for the chosen ones of the worlds.

And I imagined the Russian Venus,
Wrapped in a heavy tunic,
Passionless in purity, joyless without measure,
The facial features are a calm dream.

This is not the first time she has come to earth,
But people crowd around her for the first time
The heroes are not the same, and the knights are different...
And the shine of her deep eyes is strange...

They sound, they rejoice,
Never getting tired
They are celebrating victory
They are blessed forever.

Who will follow the surrounding ringing,
Who will feel even a brief moment
My infinite in the secret womb,
My harmonic language?
Let my freedom be alien to everyone,
Let me be a stranger to everyone, in my garden
Nature rings and rages.
I am her accomplice in everything!

Lonely, I come to you,
Bewitched by the lights of love.
You're guessing. - Don't call me -
I’ve been doing magic for a long time myself.

From the heavy burden of years
I was saved by divination alone,
And again I cast a spell on you,
But the answer is unclear and vague.

Fortune-filled days
I cherish the years - don’t call...
Will the lights go out soon?
Enchanted dark love?

And the heavy sleep of everyday consciousness
You will shake it off, yearning and loving.
Vl. Solovyov

I have a feeling about you. The years pass by -
All in one form I foresee You.

The whole horizon is on fire - and unbearably clear,
And I wait silently, yearning and loving.

The whole horizon is on fire, and the appearance is near,
But I’m scared: you’ll change your appearance,

And you will arouse impudent suspicion,
Changing the usual features at the end.

Oh, how I will fall - both sadly and low,
Without overcoming deadly dreams!

How clear is the horizon! And radiance is close.
But I’m scared: You will change your appearance.

And it's too late to wish
Everything has passed: both happiness and sorrow.
Vl. Solovyov

Don't be angry and forgive. You bloom alone
Yes, and I can’t return it
These golden dreams, this deep faith...
My path is hopeless.

Blooming with sleepy thoughts, you experience a lot of bliss,
You are strong with azure.
I have a different life and a different road,
And the soul has no time to sleep.

Believe - more unhappy than my young worship
Not in a vast country,
Where your mysterious genius breathed and loved,
Indifferent to me.

Behind the fog, behind the forests
If it lights up, it disappears
I'm driving through wet fields -
It will flash from a distance again.

So wandering lights
Late at night, across the river,
Over sad meadows
We are meeting with You.

But even at night there is no answer,
You will go into the river reeds,
Taking away the source of light,
You're beckoning from afar again.

In youthful inaction, in dawn laziness
The soul soared upward, and there it found the Star.
The evening was foggy, the shadows were falling softly.
The Evening Star waited silently.

Unperturbed, on the dark steps
You entered, and, Quiet, you surfaced.
And a shaky dream in pre-dawn laziness
She transported herself to the starry paths.

And the night passed in a fog of dreams.
And timid youth with countless dreams.
And dawn is approaching. And the shadows run away.
And, Clear One, you flowed with the sun.

Today you walked alone,
I have not seen Your miracles.
There, above Your high mountain,
The forest stretched jagged.

And this forest, closed tightly,
And these mountain paths
They prevented me from merging with the unknown,
To flourish with your azure.

Heeding the call of troubled life,
Secretly splashing inside me,
False and momentary thoughts
I won't give in even in my dreams.
I'm waiting for a wave - a favorable wave
To the radiant depth.

I follow a little, bending my knees,
Meek in appearance, quiet in heart,
Floating Shadows
The fussy affairs of the world
Among visions, dreams,
Voices of other worlds.

Transparent, unknown shadows
They swim to You, and You swim with them,
Into the arms of azure dreams,
Incomprehensible to us, - You give yourself away.

Before You they turn blue without borders
Seas, fields, and mountains, and forests,
Birds call to each other in the free heights,
The fog rises, the skies turn red.

And here, below, in the dust, in humiliation,
Seeing immortal features for a moment,
An unknown slave, full of inspiration,
Sings you. You don't know him

You can't tell him apart in a crowd of people,
You won’t reward him with a smile,
When he looks after you, unfree,
Tasting for a moment Your immortality.

I'm waiting for a call, looking for an answer,
The sky is numb, the earth is silent,
Behind the yellow field - somewhere far away -
For a moment my appeal awoke.

I wait - and a new thrill embraces me.
The sky is getting brighter, the silence is getting deeper...
The night's secret will be destroyed by a word...
God have mercy, night souls!

For a moment I woke up behind a cornfield, somewhere,
My appeal is a distant echo.
I'm still waiting for the call, looking for an answer,
But strangely the silence of the earth lasts.

Alexander Blok entered literature as a symbolist poet. He himself spoke about it this way: “You can only be born a symbolist... to be an artist means to withstand the wind from the worlds of art, completely different from this world, only influencing it; in those worlds there are no causes and effects, time and space, dense and incorporeal, and these worlds have no number...”

During his ascent to the literary Olympus, European culture was going through far from the best of times. A deep crisis arose due to disappointment with the former ideals, which had already become a kind of public property. The death of the previous social system seemed inevitable, so the question associated with the revision of previous, established moral values ​​also seemed inevitable. As a result, symbolism appeared.

It represents one of the most vibrant literary movements in literature at the turn of the century. This direction can be called a kind of attempt by a human writer to escape from the contradictions in reality and plunge headlong into the pool of eternal ideas and truths.

Blok is exactly such a person. This is especially noticeable in “Poems about a Beautiful Lady.” The collection was published in 1904. The collection in “Poems about a Beautiful Lady” consists of 129 small poems, each of which is rich in its own history. For the most part, dreams of an ideal are heard here, an idea-dream that struck Blok about some grandiose events. Actually, we can say that all the symbolism of the writer was concentrated in this collection. Subsequent works of the creator subsequently partially change. Most often, they are permeated by a feeling of the need to establish a new relationship with reality, without any lofty ideals and dreams, as in “Poems about a Beautiful Lady.” Blok himself spoke about this in his letter to S.M. Solovyov like this: “Something breaks off in me, and something new comes in a positive sense, and for me this is desirable, as when it happens less often.”

Poems about a Beautiful Lady

“Poems about a Beautiful Lady,” published in 1904, is the first collection of poetry by Alexander Blok. Subsequently, it will become a truly original, one-of-a-kind work of genius, by an equally brilliant person. Experts call this collection a lyrical diary. This is quite logical and understandable, since the writer himself largely set out in poetry some facts from his own biography. In the collection he tells readers about his own experiences, feelings and thoughts. The cycle of “Poems about a Beautiful Lady” itself represents the central part of the collection. However, its features are difficult to understand without referring to the poems that make up the section “Ante Lucem” that opens the book. Translated from Latin, it means “in the dark.” Thus, the author seems to hint to the reader that his hero at this time is a purely lyrical one, who is alone and, naturally, suffers from this. His hero is literally in pitch darkness. This is especially noticeable in the work “Let the month shine - the night is dark...”. Here we talk about the protagonist’s renunciation from the outside world, his mental torment:

“Let the month shine - the night is dark.

There is spring in my love soul
Will not replace stormy bad weather.
The night has spread over me
And responds with a dead look
In the dull gaze of the sick soul,
Doused with sharp, sweet poison.
And in vain, passions are hidden,
In the cold darkness before dawn
I wander among the crowd
With only one cherished thought:
Let the month shine - the night is dark.
May life bring happiness to people -
There is spring in my love soul
Will not be replaced by stormy bad weather.”

Here Blok connects the state of mind of the protagonist with a dark night. The night spreads over him, and the same darkness reigns and dominates in his soul. Loneliness is aggravated by a person’s isolation from real life, since the main character has a characteristic romantic attitude. Even though the author does not indicate any direct opposition between “I” and “we,” he still indicates that the main character is somewhere among people. However, they live completely differently, unlike our main character, who cannot break with his loneliness. His position is very strange: “Let life bring happiness to people,” but he does not say this about himself. Man himself is a creative person, he tries to comprehend the secrets of the unearthly, the universe, and the best time for such reflections is night.
The poem begins and ends with the same quatrain. The main character is convinced that the night will remain dark for him, although the month is shining.

“The wind brought it from afar...”

As you might guess, the key works in the cycle of poems are “Poems about a Beautiful Lady,” which are entitled as such. They reflect the complexity of the love relationship between the writer himself and his future wife, Lyuba Mendeleeva. As in the first case, everything in the poem is far from ambiguous, unclear and uncertain. The only difference is that the poet hints to us that something good is approaching, something that can fill a person’s life with meaning. This is clearly visible in the work “The Wind Brought From Afar...”, although the image of a person remains unknown to the reader, we do not see the one who can fill life with meaning, but we understand that her early appearance is inevitable.

"The wind brought from afar
Songs of spring hint,
Somewhere light and deep
A piece of sky opened up.

In this bottomless azure,
In the twilight of near spring
The winter storms cried
Starry dreams were flying.

Shy, dark and deep
My strings were crying.
The wind brought from afar
Your sonorous songs."

Here new patterns begin to appear in Blok. In particular, the pitch black night, which, it would seem, should have been endless, changes. Now the main character has a small “patch of sky”. This piece gradually increases, turning towards the end of the work into “bottomless azure”. In addition to the appearance, the sound around also changes. If before there was only a quiet, soundless night, now the wind brings a “hint” to the main character of the song.

Before the appearance of the Beautiful Lady, the life of the protagonist is compared to winter. There is a hint that in the near future, winter should give way to spring, but it, as such, does not exist yet. The hero feels only its harbingers, but understands perfectly well that this spring is already close. This is also noticeable in the poem “Quiet Evening Shadows...”:

"Quiet evening shadows
The snow lies in blue.
Hosts of discordant visions
Your ashes have been disturbed.
You sleep beyond the distant plain,
You sleep in a shroud of snow...
Your swan song
The sounds seemed to me.
A voice calling anxiously
Echo in the cold snow...
Is it possible to be resurrected?
Isn't the past just dust?
No, from the Lord's house
Spirit full of immortality
Relatives and friends came out
Songs to disturb my ears.
Hosts of grave visions,
The sounds of living voices...
Quiet evening shadows
The blue ones were touched by the snow."

Conclusion

The collection of “Poems about a Beautiful Lady” fully embodied the idea of ​​a “double world”, characteristic of most symbolists. In such works there is a contrast between “earth” and “sky”, as well as the material and spiritual state of man. In the image of the Beautiful Lady, Blok embodies the Soul of the world, which in itself represents a feminine nature.

In general, such a collection of poetry can be characterized by certain sublime feelings, a regular break between a person and the current reality, as well as the holiness of unearthly ideals and a kind of cult of beauty.

If we identify all the poems in this collection, then we can say that everywhere the main character is an ordinary earthly creature who languishes in anticipation of that very Beautiful Lady, and she, in turn, is something divine, an unearthly ideal.

“Poems about a Beautiful Lady” is written in a sophisticated and rather refined language. Each work in the collection is imbued with the search, the expectation of the ideal, harmony, and beauty. Naturally, the main character in these works has a sharp rejection of everyday reality. He tries to strive for perfection, waits for positive changes and it seems that he is about to see them. The Beautiful Lady herself in the cycle is an unearthly creature who only vaguely resembles a woman’s appearance. In fact, this is a person’s idea, his dream, hope that warms the soul of the protagonist, but at the same time causes a longing for the incomprehensible.

It’s rare that a lyricist does not touch on the theme of “The Beautiful Lady.” So Alexander Blok, whose first collection of poetry was published in 1905, called it “Poems about a Beautiful Lady.”

The idea of ​​giving such a name to the cycle was suggested to the author by the Russian poet Valery Yakovlevich Bryusov. Censorship did not have a hand in the poet's collection; this happened thanks to the patronage of E.K. Medtner, the future famous head of the Musaget publishing house, with whom the author subsequently maintained friendly relations.

“Poems about a Beautiful Lady” consists of three interconnected sections: “Stillness”, “Crossroads”, “Damage”.

The first section, “Stillness,” contains poems directly addressed to the Beautiful Lady. “Blok puts a deep philosophical meaning into the very concept of “Stillness,” and it has many shades in his poetic allegory. The most undoubted of them expresses the idea of ​​constancy, fidelity, knightly service to the Beautiful Lady.” This section of the collection “selects the most lyrically strong, responsible, sharp-sounding poems.”

Singing dream, blooming color,
Vanishing day, fading light.

Opening the window, I saw lilacs.
It was in the spring - on a flying day.

Flowers began to breathe - and onto the dark cornice
The shadows of jubilant robes moved.

The melancholy was suffocating, the soul was busy,
I opened the window, trembling and trembling.

The second section of the collection, called “Crossroads”, has a different plan. The palette and rhythm change significantly, St. Petersburg appears in Blok’s vision. Before us is his City. If “Stillness” is all about the village, about the wonderful world of Nature, then “Crossroads” is about a certain turn that the author made. Already the opening poem “Deception”, its title, will tell us a lot. The radiance of the lines is behind, the significance and outright audacity are ahead. Instead of pink dawns there is factory fumes, red light rushes into the eyes.

Morning. Clouds. Smokes. Overturned tubs.
Blue dances merrily in the light streams.
Red slingshots are placed along the streets.
The soldiers spank: one! two! once! two!

Section “Damage”, the third in a row - of the transition plan. There is a new collection of poems ahead - “Unexpected Joy”.

“In one of his late letters (spring 1914), Blok uttered prophetic words for him, relating equally to his past, present and future, to his entire life, along which he walked the “path of truth: “... art is where damage, loss, suffering, cold. This thought always guards...” The title of the final section of the book “Poems about a Beautiful Lady” - “Damage” - contains exactly this meaning, which was mentioned in Blok’s letter.

« The present is around you, a living and beautiful Russian girl“- this is what Blok wrote to his bride, making comments to the collection about the “Beautiful Lady”. The release of this poetic work by Blok did not go unnoticed. One of the first critics of the poet was his friend Andrei Bely (at that time there were no conflict situations between them). " There are people here in Moscow who put you at the head of Russian poetry. You and Bryusov are the most necessary poets for Russia».

100 Great Books Demin Valery Nikitich

93. BLOCK “POEMS ABOUT A BEAUTIFUL LADY”

"POEMS ABOUT A BEAUTIFUL LADY"

Blok did not immediately find the name of the cycle and, accordingly, the book of his poems. The theme was clear from the very beginning - Eternal Femininity; in it was seen the answer to existence and all its laws. It came from Goethe and Vladimir Solovyov. The latter, shortly before his death, wrote a program poem with a similar title:

Know this: Eternal Femininity is now

In an incorruptible body he comes to earth...

Initially, Blok also wanted to call the collection of his most intimate poems “On the Eternally Feminine.” But then he took a fresh look at his own stanza:

I enter dark temples,

I perform a poor ritual.

There I am waiting for the Beautiful Lady

In the flickering red lamps.

This is how the name of the collection was born, which immediately brought the young poet to the forefront of Russian literature. For Vladimir Solovyov, Eternal Femininity also appeared in different guises. Her main hypostasis, of course, is Sophia the Wisdom of God - the embodiment of Truth, Goodness and Beauty. Developing Dostoevsky’s thought “Beauty will save the world,” Solovyov argued: “... In the end, Eternal beauty will be fruitful, and the salvation of the world will come from it.” In poetry, on this basis, a whole system of imperishable images was developed - the Virgin of the Rainbow Gate, the Eternal Friend, the Radiant Friend, etc., which became the supporting categories of Russian symbolism. Blok continued to conceptualize the concept of Eternal Femininity. In his poems, under the influence of his first love, Solovyov’s Eternal Friend turned into a Beautiful Lady and the Virgin-Dawn-Kupina, under whose name Blok’s future wife, the daughter of the great Mendeleev, Lyubov Dmitrievna, appears:

You are white, unperturbed in the depths,

In life she is strict and angry.

Secretly anxious and secretly loved,

Virgo, Dawn, Kupina.

“Poems about a Beautiful Lady” is a poetic diary of the formation of Blok’s sublime feelings. Oh, that was truly unearthly love! A true symbol of Love! Knowing his future wife from childhood, he became truly interested in her only at the age of 19, inviting her in the summer at the dacha to play the role of Ophelia in an amateur play, where he himself played Hamlet (since then the theme of Hamlet - Ophelia has become the leitmotif of his work). Four years of reverent love - all of it, at a glance, in “Poems about a Beautiful Lady.” And not only in poetry. Their letters from that time are worthy of being on a par with the correspondence of Abelard and Heloise.

Alexander Blok to Lyubov Mendeleeva (November 10, 1902): My life, without exception, belongs to You from beginning to end... If I ever manage to do something and be imprinted on something, to leave a fleeting trace of a comet, everything will be Yours , from You and to You.

Lyubov Mendeleev - Alexander Blok (November 12, 1902): I have no words to tell you everything that my soul is full of, there are no expressions for my love... I live and have lived only to give you happiness, and this is the only bliss , the purpose of my life.

On August 17, 1903 they got married. For Blok’s work, this event turned into an act of universal significance. He always cosmicized his beloved:

I believe in the Sun of the Covenant,

I see dawns in the distance.

I'm waiting for the universal light

From the spring land "..."

Of an incomprehensible light

The jets trembled.

I believe in the Sun of the Covenant.

I see Your eyes.

Blok cosmosizes any phenomena of nature and life. The starry night takes on a special meaning - a cosmic symbol of cosmic Love. At the same time, the starry sky is personified: the beloved becomes a star, the lover’s eyes turn into stars:

And there will be a moment when you fall

To another heaven.

And in the new skies you will see

Only two stars are my eyes.

The poet paints dizzying cosmic pictures, an integral part of which is himself and his beloved:

Yes, I'll take you with me

And I'll take you there

Where the earth seems like a star,

The star looks like Earth.

And speechless with surprise,

You will see new worlds -

Incredible visions

Creating my game.

But these poems will be written later and dedicated to another woman. Blok's relationship with his wife, which at first was so romantic, turned into a personal tragedy. Even before her marriage, Lyuba Mendeleeva became a universal symbol not only for her husband, but also for his friends, which led to acute conflicts, even leading to a duel with Andrei Bely (fortunately for Russian culture, it did not take place). However, the eternal contradiction between dream and reality soon became clear - between Blok himself and his Beautiful Lady: she turned out to be far from the created poetic ideal, and also an unfaithful wife.

The poet’s personal tragedy was reflected in his poems, in particular, in one of the masterpieces of Blok’s lyrics:

About valor, about exploits, about glory

I forgot on the sorrowful land,

When your face is in a simple frame

It was shining on the table in front of me.

But the hour has come, and you left home,

I threw the treasured ring into the night...

That’s how it was: first the portrait, like an icon, then the removed wedding ring. And what about the Beautiful Lady? It was she who left her husband without warning and came back a long time later with a child from another man. Therefore, the textbook ending of the above poem is quite natural:

Your face in its simple frame

I removed it from the table with my own hand.

However, is it only the Beautiful Lady who is to blame? Three years after his wedding with her, the poet was already recklessly in love with another - actress Natalya Volokhova, and dedicated his best poems, cycles and books to her:

Oh, spring without end and without edge -

An endless and endless dream!

I recognize you, life!

I accept!

And I greet you with the ringing of the shield!

And then there was the singer Lyubov Delma

And you go through thoughts and dreams,

Like the queen of blissful times,

With my head buried in roses,

Immersed in a fabulous dream.

But no matter who fate brings Blok together in the future, and no matter what lyrical masterpieces are born, the former image of the Beautiful Lady, the “Wife Clothed in the Sun,” a sublime, inspired and to some extent unattainable ideal of love, is still radiantly shone between the lines of intimate love lyrics. In this sense, the fate of the famous collection dedicated to the bride-wife turned out to be more than symbolic. Essentially, The Beautiful Lady is all of Blok’s poetry “without end and without edge,” and all of world poetry in general!