About the Belgorod region in a poetic line

Municipal educational institution Ilovskaya secondary school named after the Hero of Russia V. Burtsev

Alekseevsky district of the Belgorod region

Poets of the Belgorod region about the war

(Poetic evening in the literary living room)

Prepared by:

teacher of Russian language and literature

Belykh Svetlana Ivanovna

Teacher

We won the Victory at a high price! Peaceful silence, the opportunity to live, work, study ... May 9 will always be a holy day for our Motherland. And our human duty is to always remember those who are not with us, who fell in the war. I am sure that we will never forget what our grandfathers did. And since the soldiers and officers of that war were not afraid to give their lives for you and me, is there not a place in our hearts for all of them? The answer is very simple. These people will never die, because a person lives as long as he is remembered. And as long as humanity exists, that war will be remembered, and no one, no matter how much he wants it, will be able to rewrite history. History of the Great Victory.

Very soon Victory Day! My compatriots from Belgorod will celebrate it with a special feeling. There will be evenings of memory and cool watch for schoolchildren, favorite films will be shown on TV, participants in the indispensable military parade on Red Square will mint a strict step, the metronome of the traditional minute of silence will beat. But we would like to build a different parade in our work today. Parade of historical memory, expressed by poetic means.

Historical memory is a tremendous moral force. Its great meaning lies in the appeal not only to the past, but to the present and future.

The purpose of our meeting in the literary living room is to study the display of the historical memory of the modern generation about the events of the Great Patriotic War means of poetry. So, a word to our readers.

Reader's speech #1 .

The first impetus to awaken my interest in poetry on a military theme was when I picked up Valery Cherkesov's book "The Stones Speaked". And after reading it, I realized that there is modern poetry topics that can unite people of different generations, nations, views and beliefs. This theme is war, man at war, humanity after the war.

Reader's speech #2 .

And my poetic encyclopedia was a collection of poems and prose by our Belgorod authors. For me, many poems have become a real revelation. A lot of the works of our poets are published in the Belgorod socio-political and literary-artistic magazine "Belfry", in the "Literary Page" of our regional and district newspapers. It is in the poetry "about the war" of Belgorod authors that pride in strength and courage sounds. Soviet soldier, a soldier-liberator, unceasing pain for the dead, faith and hope in the peaceful future of our country.

Reader 1

The bitter truth of the first years of the war is a retreat. Surrendered with the hardest bloody battles of the city and village. Bitter truth! She is in Yuri Timofeevich Gryaznov's Bread of the War Years:

I look at the bread - and ice in my heart

Memories of the war.

…Our soldiers retreated

We went east.

And it was me

In that summer, there are very few years,

And I'm a boy soul

I still don't understand what's wrong

And what is good.

Along the country streets, to the outskirts,

Where he accompanied his father to the front.

Chagall with the boys playing

Now in the commander, then in the fighter.

Chagall, all lit up with joy

(No need to rush to the lesson!)

Until you took me by the shoulders

Road-weary fighter.

Reader 2

He asked: “Is it possible for bread? ...

From the environment ... Knocks down! .. "

And, after a pause: "Let's drive out the German-

I will return everything to you, son ... "

There is no joke in his eyes.

There was guilt in his eyes.

And I first realized creepy

The meaning of bitter words: “There is a war ...”

I don't know how I rushed to the house,

Tears of saltine's lips,

How he carried the last bread to a soldier,

What mother kept for me.

Teacher

More than 20 million lives of Soviet citizens were claimed by the Great Patriotic War. How many destinies have been broken, how many tears have been shed! Yury Vasilyevich Shumov sympathizes with the bitter widow's share:

Reader 3

You were strong, Ivan,

Where did you die in a foreign land?

The caravan flew away

The shirt is getting cold on the tyne ...

Yes, through the cold fog

Crows roam the field.

Where are you, my good Ivan,

Met a bad fate?

All because of distant glades

The cold winds blow

It can be seen, truthful, Ivan,

Bullets don't go anywhere.

You were strong, Ivan,

Where did you die in a foreign land?

The caravan flew away

The shirt is getting cold on the tyne ...

Reader 4

Ostrovsky Gennady Vladimirovich. The poem "Aunt Frosya" is a small ballad about a woman meeting and seeing off trains at a distant crossing. And the trains for this unfortunate mother are like heralds of that distant, tragic separation from her sons - blood.

Silent booth.

Groans of pines.

Yes, those strings are wires.

Aunt Frosya at the crossing

The flag meets trains.

Tar sleepers

frosty smell,

The winds are cold through.

Forty-two

To the front - to the west -

Her sons left.

And they did not return anymore ... Both ...

They didn't send a letter...

Snowdrifts hunch behind the booth,

And Aunt Frosya is at the porch.

Reader 5

When visiting many houses where war veterans, their widows, still live, pay attention: in such houses, in the most prominent place, there are photographs in simple wooden frames. And on these simple photos, sometimes skillfully retouched by the photographer's hand - clear, bright faces. Soldiers, officers. They died, they simply disappeared without a trace. It is to their blessed memory that Mikhail Nikolaevich Dyachenko dedicates short, but such capacious lines:

They knew the holidays, did everyday life,

They held no guilt before anyone,

Lived in a house ordinary people,

And - one who did not come from the war

Reader 6

One thousand four hundred and eighteen days. Four years. This is exactly what Igor Chernukhin called his view on the chronology of wartime. But it’s true, you can look at a terrible date and it’s unusual, which is what the author does. He writes about ... geese, that:

For four years the geese cried

Seeing once from above

Houses blazing like torches

Smoke crimson wars.

Four years saw geese

Down in the field

Not stubble

And the tanks are dead, like idols,

Alien corpses, crows ...

Four years of steel grinding

Up to the clouds, a continuous fire ...

…And the geese

Yet they flew

As expected, in the spring.

Reader 7

So the roar of the guns fell silent.

Berlin does not burn from fire.

Soldiers crowded around the Reichstag

And the sergeant called me.

- Come on, brothers, - he said to the soldiers, -

Give the son of the regiment a sharp bayonet,

On the wall, on this damned one,

Put an autograph victorious and you.

And the soldiers picked me up

The ground shook under my feet

And someone shouted “hurray” nearby.

Above all, I signed.

Reader 8

Valery Nikolaevich Cherkesov reminds all of us, readers of his poetry, of such a difficult period in the life of our country as the restoration of the economy destroyed by the war. His story is about the Great Tank Field, the field of the Battle of Kursk, which has become just fertile arable land:

They thought the earth would not spoil:

How much deadly metal

During the war, she absorbed herself.

The plowshare in the furrow rattles, rings.

Thought, but did their own:

They plowed their darling on themselves,

The last seeds were laid

The crows were dispersed with song.

Babs, old people and children -

The men at the front fought -

Sometimes they spent the night on the field, -

Not enough for a day's work.

Drenched in sweat and rain

Sprinkled with blood in battle,

The field came to life - surprisingly! -

Good bread sprouted on it.

And when they came with victory

From the west the soldiers served

Large loaves on the tables -

The gift of the saved mother - the earth.

Reader 9

On May 9 we will celebrate Victory Day. "Victory Day" - Pavel Antonovich Lykov designated his hymn to victory with such a great festive phrase.

Victory Day

There was a day at the end of the Great War.

Fireworks rumbled with a big roar.

That Day became the holiday of spring

In blooming May, in the forty-fifth.

That day ascended on a pedestal

Stories as the pride of the century.

He, this Day became victorious

In the name of human happiness!

Teacher

I read and again return to "military" poetry. Everything is so clear in them, simply, they fall on the heart, reading them, you do not notice the time. Clear rhymes, uncontrived plots, simple human feelings and emotions - this is what distinguishes poems Belgorod poets about war.

We will never be able to forget the war, because this is the highest feat of our people in its entire history. And history cannot be erased from memory or rewritten. You can only write about it. To write so soulfully and burningly that everyone, even very young people, would read and feel the "military" poetry, because Galina Khodyreva writes about them:

The light of memory, the light of sorrow and love...

And after forty years, and through the centuries

A hot drop of spilled blood

Our children carry it in themselves. 9

List of used literature

Valery Cherkesov. The stones have spoken. Poetic report. Belgorod, 2000

Belfry. Belgorod socio-political and literary-artistic magazine. 2005 Volume 6

Anthology modern literature Belgorod. Publishing house V.M. Shapovalova, 1993

POETS BELGOROD AREAS

Dymova Anzhelika Nikolaevna,

primary school teacher

MBOU "OO Dmitrievskaya School"

POET

Alexander Mitrofanovich Giryavenko

Alexander Giryavenko

Poetry

How the heat smells of old dust,

How this dust is fuming and flowing!..

And flocks of fish are upside down

At the chalky, sun-scorched steeps.

Both freshness and openness have passed

Into invisible, inaudible depths,

And as if the reed has no soul,

And inconspicuous early viburnum.

Heavy and lonely flight of a bumblebee

Above the scent of melting flowers...

How hotly the earth sleeps,

And the steam of breath is visible over the fields!

And it seems: Poetry alone

It is given to foresee perpetual motion

Deep waters under the steep chalk

Yes, behind an airy unsteady wall

Thundering clouds deaf approach.

POET

Lira Sultanovna Abdullina

Abdullina Lira Sultanovna was born in the village of Kushnarenkovo, Kushnarenkovsky district, Bashkir ASSR. She graduated from Kushnarenkovskaya secondary school in 1956. Worked as head of department Agriculture regional newspaper "Stalinets" of the Kushnarenkovsky district, a literary worker of the regional newspaper "Kolkhoznaya Pravda" in the city of Ufa. After graduating in 1964 from the Literary Institute. A. M. Gorky worked as an editor of the Norilsk television studio, and then an employee of the large-circulation newspaper "Cementnik" of the Mikhailovsky district of the Ryazan region.

In 1983 she moved to Stary Oskol, Belgorod Region. Author of two poetry books: “The snow is high” and “While the bright star is burning.” Published in central, republican, city, district newspapers, in collective collections, anthologies, almanacs.

And life is only a part of the way

from the first line to the last...

(Lira Abdullina)

in the collective collections "69 Parallel" (Krasnoyarsk, 1966) and "Day of Poetry"

(Krasnoyarsk, 1967), in the almanac "Poetry"

(Moscow, 1984), "Hour of Russia" (Moscow, 1988),

"Living Word" (Moscow, 1991), in magazines

"New World", "Youth", "Spark",

"Friendship of Peoples", "Yenisei", "Day and Night", " student meridian", "Climb",

"Literary Review", in the newspapers of the Krasnoyarsk Territory, Bashkiria, Tatarstan, Ryazan, Belgorod, Novosibirsk regions.

IGOR CHERNUKHIN

It is impossible to imagine the Belgorod Territory without poetry Igor Chernukhin . He is a lyricist who is not alien to what is happening in big world and in great literature. His poetry is not subject to only one narrow theme and therefore is interesting to the reader throughout creative way poet.

The hero of Chernukhin attracts with his sincerity and truth. In the collection of his poems, the character emerges with biographical features associated with the author and the country, but still generalized, close to the universality of experiences for every reader. The poet is individual, and his hero becomes close both because of this and due to the fact that real poetry, through the particular, is able to express what is close to everyone.

The volumetric world of the poet is filled with images of the classics and details real life, which naturally "give birth" to this generalization, which is necessary for the completeness of perception of the meaning of the poem.

Whatever I. Chernukhin writes about: about the camp, about friends, about love or difficult family relationships, the latter usually remain in the shadows, he is open, honest and sincere.

Not everyone is able to subject their life to hard analysis, without trying to shift the blame to others, and write about it all with rare frankness.

Igor Chernukhin

* * * Why poets are not favored During life, so ... And why They push them under the pistols, In a tight noose and prison. Why are they wrapped in stone? Why lift them up then? .. Why is Cain crying at the stone Glistening with a golden crown? .. 1987

POET

Nikolai Dmitrievich

Gladkikh

Nikolai Gladkikh was born on October 5, 1952 in the village of Razumnoye, Belgorod District, Belgorod Region. Here he graduated from the eighth year. Then he studied at the Kalinin Suvorov School, at the department of military translators of Kharkov State University, at the University of Leipzig. Until 1984 he lived in Germany. Returning to his homeland, he lived in Belgorod, taught German and English languages in universities, schools, worked as a translator.

Many of his poetic predictions came true almost with physical accuracy. … I'll die from cognac When I feel a reserve in my heart of troubles. I will die for the hundredth time, like a beggar and a cripple, How Pushkin died, concealing buckshot in himself. Lie down on the snow by right of man. I will lie down for good, where I want to lie down.

He "lay down" on the threshold of his native house in Razumny. The heart, overflowing with misfortune, so characteristic of Russian poets, stopped, having exhausted its margin of safety. And there was snow, and Pushkin's February, and the soul finally ascended to the Throne of the Most High, to whom he so often called in his poems, before whom he confessed and repented, praying for patience, love and harmony, calling himself either a jester or a cosmopolitan. In fact, he was and remained a wanderer, lost in time: “I was late for old Rus' and will not reach young Russia anymore ...”

Nikolai Gladkikh

Poems do not cleanse the soul

Poems do not cleanse the soul, But, falling out of it, Like rain on scorched land And on the prickly stubble They, like tears, quietly melt In the primordial darkness of earthly roots, She is nourished by insights And like birds fly away Until the coming of spring.

Annals of war

Remained their books, their memory and pain

In the Belgorod Museum of Folk Culture, until May 13, the exhibition "I'll Come Back Alive" is open - from the funds of the Belgorod Literary Museum. Working on it, the staff of the Literary Museum tried to present the front-line fate of Belgorod writers, combining biographical facts, the work of the war years and works thematically related to the war.

The exposition opens with the poetic lines of V. Molchanov, which became an epigraph and annotation:

Poets of the front generation,

Saved the country from subjugation,

Those who wrote not fleeting lines,

And the fiery machine-gun lines, -

I feel like a soldier not fired,

And before your tenderness and meekness

I stand with unconscious timidity.

Poets of the front generation,

You lived according to a high command,

It was not easy for you to sing, and the song is bitter,

And you became a conscience for us on earth ...

Military translator

Among those who volunteered for the front in the first days of the war was Elizaveta Sergeevna Romanova (1922-2000).

She began her service in the Smolensk district evacuation hospital as a nurse, participated in the battles near Moscow and on the North-Western Front. In December 1942, E. Romanova was sent to courses for military translators. From October 1943 she served as a military translator, participated in battles on the territory European countries. Elizaveta Sergeevna was awarded the Order of the Red Star and military medals. Front-line memories were put by her as the basis for stories published in magazines, which made up the book “The Tricolor Cat”.

“They didn’t kiss me, seeing off ...”

My verse is filled with the bitterness of loss,

He smelled of the caustic burning of cities,

Soaked in the blood of a Russian soldier,

Bathed in the tears of mothers and widows.

These lines precede the section of the exhibition dedicated to Konstantin Yakovlevich Mamontov (1918-2000).

The childhood and adolescence of an early orphaned boy passed in the Urals. In the 1930s, a homeless child wandering around different cities, he began to write poetry. In 1939 he was drafted into the army, in June 1941 K. Mamontov was in the service.

Konstantin Yakovlevich went through the whole war, liberated Belgorod. He was awarded the Order of the Red Star, military medals. At the front, he continued to write poetry. In 1944, after being seriously wounded and shell-shocked, he lost his notebooks, which contained about three hundred poems. The poet believed that the poems were lost forever. Later it turned out that some of the notebooks were kept by the orderly of the hospital. They were transferred to the publishing house "Young Guard", and in 1960 a selection of "lost" poems by K.Ya. appeared in the collection "Names in Verification". Mamontov. The author was listed as dead.

Regimental scout

Leonid Grigoryevich Malkin (1924-2002) with the outbreak of war was sent to the Voronezh special school of the air force, he graduated from the school of navigators. But, fearing that the war would end without him, he fled to the front. He fought on the Leningrad, Baltic and 2nd Belorussian fronts as a regimental intelligence officer, signalman of a telegraph and cable company. Awarded with combat medals.

The first stories about the war by the writer were included in collections of the 1960s. But his main book about the war is "The Front without Generals."

Came back alive

Natalya Glebovna Ovcharova (nee Burnaya, 1923-2008) went to the front in July 1942 voluntarily. She served as a secretary in the military prosecutor's office of the Karelian Front, then as a clerk in the 135th Infantry Division. Awarded with the Order of the Red Star.

She wrote poetry from childhood, but the earliest preserved in the archive are manuscripts of poems and clippings

from publications in army newspapers - refer to the time of service in the army. However, the theme of war in the work of N.G. Ovcharova firmly took her place only in the 1970s. She did not happen to be on the front lines, but the pictures of military conflagrations and front-line everyday life were well known. Therefore, the novelist, front-line soldier M.M. Obukhov strongly recommended N. Ovcharova to tell about life in the war. As a result, in 1974, the first story "I'll Come Back Alive" was published as a separate book. Later novels and short stories of military subjects were included in various collections. Poems written during the war years, N. Ovcharova began to publish even later: they made up sections of the collections "Multicolor" (2006) and "Path of Memory" (2008).

Child

The city has not cooled down from the battle yet,

the ruins were still smoking around ...

Broken poplar branches lowered

above the place where we stopped.

The whole earth is pitted with shells.

At the stone, crippled by the explosion,

awkward, sideways, the woman lay down,

unable to stand over the clay cliff.

And near the dead little one lay,

buried in her chest with a dark little head.

And someone unclenched his mother's fingers.

And silently picked up the child in his arms.

Him to grow, to laugh, to sing -

For those who did not live, did not sing,

For those who now, despising death,

He was rescued from the fiery font.

May 1945, Poland.

"We met face to face"

Nikolai Stepanovich Krasnov (1924-2010) was drafted into the army in 1943, fought on the Leningrad front, was awarded the medal "For Courage". But in 1944 he was seriously wounded - he was badly damaged right hand. After long treatment Nikolai Krasnov was demobilized.

He wrote poetry during his school years. The writer's archive contains numerous manuscripts of the war years. The records made in the cars on the way to the front, and on the front line, and in the hospital, have been preserved.

Under foreign and under own fire,

Where the whole earth is pitted with war,

We got together - face to face - together

Fight in mortal combat: the enemy and I ...

If everything were not in reality, not at war,

If I dreamed this in a dream,

I would not crush the enemy in haste,

I woke up screaming in horror.

There are many milestones in his biography that he considered important in his writing life. These include years of life in the Belgorod region. In his autobiography, Krasnov noted: “... The decade of our life in Belgorod is the most creative thing for me. auspicious time". In Belgorod, the poet first turned to prose. The story "Rus Marya", published in Voronezh, was the first prose work about the war.

Private infantry

Belgorodets Alexei Zinovievich Krivtsov (1925-2003) was drafted into the army at the end of February 1943. As an ordinary infantryman, he went through a combat path from Leningrad to Berlin. He was awarded the Order of the Patriotic War of the 1st degree, medals. He was wounded twice, the second wound on April 24, 1945 near Berlin was very severe. Krivtsov lay on the battlefield for more than a day: the orderlies did not pick him up, considering him dead. The mother received a funeral for her son. But Krivtsov survived, although he lost his leg.

Aleksey Zinovievich began writing poetry and prose in the 1970s, preferring military subjects.

The memory is beating like a holy banner, The memory of the terrible years is beating Over the sacred soldier's rest In the winds stained with war.

In all poetry collections, verses about the war always prevailed and made up entire sections. The war appeared before readers in the autobiographical collection of prose "Memory of a Soldier's Heart".

Olga MATVEEVA

PHOTO FROM THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE LITERATURE MUSEUM

The publication contains materials about the work of members of the Writers' Union of Russia, now living in the Belgorod region; deceased writers who played a prominent role in the activities of the regional writers' organization; about writers who left the region, but made a certain contribution to the development of the literary business; members of literary associations.

The manual is not exhaustive, as it is advisory in nature. Its purpose is to acquaint readers with the work of Belgorod poets and prose writers.

The material in the index is arranged alphabetically by the writers' names. The author, who has a pseudonym, is placed under the name best known to a wide range of readers.

Information about each writer includes an autobiography or biography. Then the writer's works and literature about his work are listed. The list of the writer's works includes books, publications in collective collections and the central periodical press, as well as in local newspapers. Information about reprints of books is placed after the first edition.

The index can be used by teachers, pupils and students, critics, journalists, librarians, teachers, local historians, as well as anyone who is interested in the literary life of their native land.

Writers of Belogorye. Biobibliographic reference book. Editors-compilers: G. N. Bondareva T. N. Kublova, T. N. Mozgovaya, V. E. Molchanov. Artist: V. V. Kolesnik. Those. editor: D. A. Kulikov. Proofreader: R. I. Nikitina

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Konorev L. F. 1933

I am from the generation that is commonly called "children of war", although I was born earlier - in the pre-war thirties. When the war began, I was already in my eighth year, so the events of that distant, distant time were imprinted indelibly in my memory. And today, after more than half a century, I see, as if in reality, alive, with distinct details of the picture.

K. V. Petrovna 1958.

Kobzar Vera Petrovna was born on April 23, 1958 in the village of Krasnotalovka, Yelansky district, Volgograd region, into a peasant family. Father is a mechanic, mother is a laborer. The village of Krasnotalovka is a picturesque place surrounded by cherry and apple orchards. The small river Buzuluk was a favorite place for children and adults.

Kolesnik V. V. 1949.

I was born in the village of Novaya Ivanovka, Rovensky District, Belgorod Region, in 1949. November 27th. Shortly after my birth, my father, a soldier demobilized from Germany, enlisted in Checheno-Ingushetia. There, in the city of Grozny, I was baptized in Orthodox Church. But three years later, our family was forced to return to their homeland.