"Poets of the Belgorod Region". Vladimir Antonovich Bragin - an original poet of the Belgorod region
An exhibition dedicated to the work of Belgorod writers, or rather its aspect addressed to children, opened at the literary museum. It is difficult to find a Belgorod author who would not resort to the theme of childhood. The exhibition includes several sections, including “ Wonderland childhood”, “Mastery of the Sun”, “There is no dearer region in the world”, “Tell me about the war”, and others.
The exhibition features literary creativity different generations. Writer Leonid Kuzubov ran to the front as a boy, became a scout, fought in Stalingrad and reached Berlin, and was demobilized due to injury as an old soldier (!), at the age of sixteen. Among the fourteen books by Leonid Kuzubov there are military prose and memoirs, poetry, but two books are addressed to the youngest readers - “Veselka” and “ABC in verse”.
Vasily Zhurakhov belongs to a different generation, his main theme is clashes in hot spots, but the memory of the Great Patriotic War does not leave him either. For example, Zhurakhov has a story about a soldier who kept a battle medal in Hitler’s captivity by cutting it out pectoral cross. The story is based on real events, and the relic is still kept in the writer’s family.
In addition to books, the exhibition presents illustrations to the works of Belgorod writers. Touching sketches by artist Olga Popova for the story of the founder of the regional writers' organization Zhukovsky’s “Tear on an Eyelash”, author’s illustrations for the writer Vyacheslav Kolesnik’s own books, and, of course, the works of Belgorod schoolchildren, many of which were made at a high artistic level.
Children's poet Yuri Makarov, local historian Boris Osykov, storyteller from the puppet theater Yuri Litvinov, editor of the children's newspaper "Peremenka" Valery Cherkesov, poetess Irina Chernyavskaya, and other Belgorod authors of children's books met with the first visitors, and they were students of Lyceum No. 38 of the city of Belgorod.
The children heard funny and serious, but certainly instructive stories first-hand, took part in funny and educational competitions, and learned a lot about their favorite writers.
Exhibition materials tell about works that reveal the moral problems of growing up, the development of character and personality as a whole.
About nature native land, love for our little brothers is the subject of a separate section of the exhibition, because this topic is one of the most attractive for children. Thus, according to Yuri Makarov, one of his most popular books among children turned out to be stories from veterinary practice, which, according to the writer’s plan, were not intended for a children’s audience.
In addition to books, paintings and photographs, the exhibition presents personal belongings of writers and historical documents. The exhibition ends with a thematic stand “Oh, how many wonderful discoveries we have…” with a story about the joint actions of the museum and its young friends. Ahead summer holidays, and the museum staff will have more troubles due to the increase in the number of schoolchildren’s excursions. But the children will make many wonderful discoveries in the world of children's literature in the Belgorod region.
Municipal educational institution Ilovsk secondary school named after Hero of Russia V. Burtsev
Alekseevsky district, Belgorod region
Poets of the Belgorod region about the war
(Poetry evening in the literary drawing room)
Prepared by:
teacher of Russian language and literature
Belykh Svetlana Ivanovna
Teacher
Victory came at a great price to us! Peaceful silence, the opportunity to live, work, study... May 9th will always be a holy day for our Motherland. And it is our human duty to always remember those who are not with us, who died 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, isn’t there 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 they remember him. 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. The history of the Great Victory.
Victory Day is coming soon! My fellow Belgorod residents will celebrate it with special feeling. There will be evenings of remembrance and cool watch for schoolchildren, their favorite movies will be shown on TV, the participants of the indispensable military parade on Red Square will strike a strict step, the metronome will tap out the traditional minute of silence. But today we would like to build a different parade in our work. A parade of historical memory expressed in poetic means.
Historical memory is a huge moral force. Its great meaning lies in addressing not only the past, but the present and the future.
The purpose of our meeting in the literary living room is to study the reflection of the historical memory of the modern generation about the events of the Great Patriotic War through the means of poetry. So, a word to our readers.
Reader Speech #1 .
The first impetus for awakening my interest in poetry on a military theme was when I picked up Valery Cherkesov’s book “The Stones Spoke.” 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 No. 2 .
And my poetic encyclopedia became collections of poems and prose by our Belgorod authors. For me, many of the poems became a real revelation. A lot of works of our poets are published in the Belgorod socio-political and literary-art magazine “Zvonnitsa”, in the “Literary Page” of our regional and district newspapers. It is in the poetry “about war” of Belgorod authors that one can hear pride in strength and courage Soviet soldier, a soldier-liberator, unabated 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 retreat. Cities and villages were given up in the heaviest bloody battles. Bitter truth! She is in “Bread of the War Years” by Yuri Timofeevich Gryaznov:
I look at the bread and there’s ice in my heart
Memories of the war.
…Our soldiers retreated
We walked east.
And it was for me
That summer there were very few years,
And I'm a boyish soul
I still didn’t understand how bad it was
And what is good?
Along rural streets, to the outskirts,
Where I saw my father off to the front.
Walked with the boys, playing
Either as a commander or as a fighter.
Walked, all illuminated with joy
(No need to rush to class!),
Until he took me by the shoulders
A fighter tired of the roads.
Reader 2
He asked: “Can I have some bread?...
From the environment... Knocks you down!..”
And, after a pause: “Let’s drive away the German-
I’ll return everything to you, son...”
There is not a drop of humor in his eyes.
There was guilt in his eyes.
And for the first time I realized the creepy
The meaning of the bitter words: “There is a war going on...”
I don’t know how I rushed to the house,
Salty lips with tears,
How I carried the last bread to a soldier,
What my 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! Yuri Vasilyevich Shumov sympathizes with the bitter widow’s lot:
Reader 3
You were strong, Ivan,
Where did you die in a foreign land?
The caravan of birds flew away,
The shirt is getting cold...
Yes through the cold fog
Crows are wandering across the field.
Where are you, my good Ivan,
Have you met your bad luck?
All because of distant glades
The cold winds are blowing,
Apparently truthful, Ivan,
Bullets never miss.
You were strong, Ivan,
Where did you die in a foreign land?...
The caravan of birds flew away,
The shirt is getting cold...
Reader 4
Ostrovsky Gennady Vladimirovich. The poem “Aunt Frosya” is a small ballad about a woman who meets and sees off trains at a distant crossing. And the trains for this unfortunate mother are like messengers of that distant, tragic separation from her bloody sons.
Silent booth.
Moaning pine trees.
Yes, these strings are wires.
Aunt Frosya is moving
A flag greets trains.
Tarred sleepers
Frosty smell
The through winds are cold.
In forty-two
To the front - to the west -
Her sons left.
And they never returned... Both...
And they didn’t send a letter...
Behind the booth there are snowdrifts humping,
And Aunt Frosya is at the porch.
Reader 5
When you visit many houses where war veterans and their widowed wives 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 hand of the photographer - clear, bright faces. Soldiers, officers. They died, simply went missing. Mikhail Nikolaevich Dyachenko dedicates short but such succinct lines to their blessed memory:
Knew the holidays, did everyday life,
They didn’t hide their 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 of wartime chronology. But it’s true that you can look at a terrible date in an unusual way, which is what the author does. He writes about... geese, that:
For four years the geese cried,
Once upon a time I saw from above
Houses burning like torches
Smokes of crimson wars.
Geese have been seen for four years
Down on the field -
Not stubble
And the tanks are dead, like idols,
Alien corpses, crows...
Four years of grinding steel,
The fire is continuous up to the clouds...
…And the geese
Still they arrived
As expected, in the spring.
Reader 7
So the roars of the guns fell silent.
Berlin is not on fire.
Soldiers crowded around the Reichstag
And the sergeant called me over.
“Come on, brothers,” he said to the soldiers, “
Give the son of the regiment a sharp bayonet,
On the wall, on this damned one,
Sign the winning autograph too.
And the soldiers picked me up
The ground shook under my feet,
And someone shouted “hurray” nearby.
I also signed above everyone else.
Reader 8
Valery Nikolaevich Cherkesov reminds all of us, readers of his poetry, about 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 became simply fertile arable land:
They thought the earth would not be ugly:
How much deadly metal
She absorbed the war into herself.
The ploughshare in the furrow rattles and rings.
We thought, but did our own thing:
They plowed their own homeland,
The last seeds have been planted,
The crows were dispersed with song.
Women, old men and children -
The men fought at the front -
Sometimes we spent the night on the field, -
There wasn't enough time for a day's work.
Watered with sweat and rain,
Blood sprinkled in battle,
The field came to life - surprisingly! –
Good grains sprouted on it.
And when they came with Victory
Soldiers from the west 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 anthem of victory with such a great festive phrase.
Victory Day
It was the day at the end of the Great War.
The fireworks roared loudly.
That day became a spring holiday
In blooming May, in forty-five.
That day ascended to the pedestal
Stories are the pride of the century.
He, this day became victorious
In the name of human happiness!
Teacher
I read and again return to “war” poetry. Everything in them is so clear, simple, they lie on the heart, reading them, you don’t notice the time. Clear rhymes, uncontrived plots, simple human feelings and emotions - this is what distinguishes the poems of Belgorod poets about the 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. One can only write about it. To write so heartfelt and scorching that everyone, even very young people, will read and feel the “war” poetry, because it is about them that Galina Khodyreva writes:
The light of memory, the light of sorrow and love...
And after forty years, and through centuries
A hot drop of spilled blood
Our children carry it within themselves. 9
List of used literature
Valery Cherkesov. The stones spoke. Poetic report. Belgorod, 2000
Belfry. Belgorod socio-political and literary-art magazine. 2005 Volume 6
Anthology of modern literature of the Belgorod region. Publishing house V.M. Shapovalova, 1993
Literature lesson “Poetic Belgorod region”
(study meeting in the literary lounge), 7th grade
Target:
To introduce students to the works of poets of the Belgorod region,
Develop expressive reading skills, develop creative abilities,
To cultivate patriotic qualities in students.
Equipment: exhibition of books by poets of the Belgorod region, photo exhibition “My Native Land”, portrait of D. S. Likhachev, exhibition of his books.
During the classes
1. Organizational moment.
2.Main stage of the lesson
Teacher's opening speech
Dear friends, once again we have gathered in our literary living room. According to the already established tradition, we will get acquainted with a memorable literary event.
November 28 is an unusual day. Today marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of Dmitry Sergeevich Likhachev. 2006 was declared the year of D. S. Likhachev.
About it wonderful person Our librarian will tell us.
Librarian's Word
Teacher's word
Determining the topic of the lesson and goal setting.
The topic of our meeting: “Poetic Belgorod region”. We will get acquainted with the biography of poets of the Belgorod region, read their poems, and observe what unites them.
Our guest is a graduate of the Khotmyzh school, poet, author of the anthem of the International Festival of Slavic Culture “Khotmyzh Autumn”, laureate All-Russian competition patriotic song in St. Petersburg Alexander Fedorovich Kofanov.
Alexander Fedorovich, please tell us about yourself, how you started writing poetry, read your poems.
Guest speech.
Teacher's word
My land is my native Belgorod region,
Iron ore,
Bread land -
The words of the poet-countryman Vladimir Mikhalev sound heartfelt.
And the inhabitants of cities and villages selflessly love this land, and exalt it with their heroic labor, and glorify it in rich and vibrant poetic creativity.
Now the guys will introduce us to the work of poets of the Belgorod region.
Word to 7th grade students.
1 student
Zhanna Nikolaevna Bondarenko was born on September 7, 1973 in the village of Ivanovskaya Lisitsa, Grayvoronsky district.
She studied at a specialized boarding school for disabled children, and graduated from high school while studying at home.
She studied by correspondence at the Faculty of Journalism of Voronezh State University.
He has been writing poetry since childhood.
Zhanna Nikolaevna has been a member of the Writers' Union since 2001.
In 2003, her collection of poems “Thank you for existing...” was published.
2 student
Poem by Zh. N. Bondarenko “My land and I...”
My land and I are inseparable,
This is where I was born and grew up,
And they pour into my soul invisibly
Streams of light and heat.
Known by changeable fate,
I lived in different cities,
But they only smiled at home
I have stars in clear skies.
Here the sun is brighter and kinder
And the music of the rains is louder.
Here the heart loves more freely
And I believe in happiness more strongly.
My land and I are inseparable.
Let the darkness not hide the dream
And they pour into my soul invisibly
Streams of light and heat.
3 student
Dmitry Akimovich Mamatov was born on April 22, 1931 in the village of Priznachnoye, Prokhorovsky district, Kursk (now Belgorod) region into a peasant family. Many difficulties befell him. Famine, then collectivization, which deprived Dmitry Akimovich of almost all his relatives. The Great Patriotic War, again famine. Military service.
After demobilization, he worked at several enterprises and in a number of newspapers.
Published in periodicals, almanacs and magazines.
Dmitry Akimovich published six collections of poetry.
4student
Poem by D. Mamatov “My Gray Land”
Where mown clover smells of separation,
The crystal key is agitated at the bottom.
My gray land is beloved and abandoned,
May God grant me time alone with you!
I admire your peasant novelty again
Before the immortal banner of dawn.
Fatherland-Rus, in unenchanted silence
Illuminate my soul with prayer!
To shine with the edge of bright eternity
Spring of love without darkness and pursuits,
And at the sunset of rainbow carelessness
The lyrical fire in me did not go out!
5 student
Poem "Warmth"
I don't need anything from my Motherland
If only I could see her chain of forests,
Yes, space with chalk spurs,
Leaving into the foggy steppe.
Blue rye with long roads,
With a lonely church in the distance,
Where the gray epic hills
The clouds lay down to rest.
There the dawn became sad over the sycamore tree,
Like youth on a precarious edge,
What went behind the nomadic camp
Quiet pain through my soul.
I was swept away by old visions,
Breaking the golden connection with me
And from the elms bending over the shutters,
Heavenly light in an earthly hut.
It flows lonely and tenderly
Through bad weather and the ringing of shackles.
Let its warmth be purely Slavic
It will never cool down forever!
Word to 6th grade students
1 student
Anatoly Pavlovich Forov was born in 1956 in the village of Raisovka, Prokhorovsky district, Belgorod region. Since 1961, he lived in the village of Dorogobuzhino, Belgorod region, where he spent his childhood and youth.
Graduated from Razumenskaya secondary school. Served in Germany. After service, he worked at enterprises in the city of Belgorod. Since 1982 he has lived in the village of Razumnoye, Belgorod district.
He was published in army, district and regional newspapers, in the magazine “Zvonnitsa”, and in the collective collection of poets of the Black Earth Region “First Look”.
Author of the books “Plowed Roads”, “Pain”, “I’ll Smell the Forest and Rain”, the book of memory “Hot August at Tavrovo”. All books were published by the Publishing House of V. Shapovalov, as well as children’s books “Ice”, “Guests”, “About a Cool Kid”.
2 student
Poem "Good morning!"
Good morning, my Chernozem region!
Low bow to both meadows and fields,
Rivers, ravines, ringing forests,
And to your cities and villages.
I bow to the people living here
To those who swallowed the war, choking.
Who sows the grain in the coming day
With faith in life and in my native country.
Dear ones, live in peace,
Let the music of life flow without tears.
Good morning, my Chernozem region, -
Songs of free and pure birches!
3 student
Vladimir Efimovich Molchanov was born on February 9, 1947 in the village of Ilskaya in the Kuban. My childhood and school years were spent in the Belgorod region, in the village of Novaya Tavolzhanka, Shebekinsky district. Graduated from the Belgorod Music College and Voronezh State University. Author of 7 books, poems, poems and translations. The poems were translated into German, Polish, Bulgarian, Ukrainian and Azerbaijani.
Member of the Union of Writers since 1990, member of the Union of Journalists of Russia, laureate of the Belgorod Komsomol Prize, Honored Worker of Culture of the Russian Federation, honorary citizen of the city of Shebekino and Shebekinsky district.
4 student
Poem "Belogorye"
Belogorye...
Father's field.
There is light smoke over the meadow.
The thick grass has a juicy glow
Along chalk slopes.
Snake of curly heather
Turns pink under the mountain,
And you can’t see the shore at all
Behind the coastal grass.
I'm steep above the sandy ripple
A swift flew by like an arrow.
Nimble swallows sing
Chirping from under the roofs.
Midnight stars dotted,
The clouds are moving in a crowd.
Belogorye...
Father's field
What I call my destiny.
Word to 8th grade students
1 student
Message about Igor Chernukhin
2 student
Poem “Beyond Vorskla”
What are you talking about?
Thief Magpie,
How did you get to this region?
Where behind the haze of years -
Tomarovka,
Our village is forever white.
Since the time, they say, of Peter the Great
On the way to Poltava
Tsar
Somewhere here, beyond the foggy Vorskla,
A simple house was cut down.
Since then, around the villages
And they went with the light royal hand
Along the thoughtful, quiet and ancient,
Lost in the willows of the river.
Tomarovka, Borisovka...
Blood
The land of my childhood is the earth and the zenith,
Where on the site of Petrov's courtyard
There is a hundred-year-old forest behind Vorskla.
The oak groves hide the mysterious spirit,
The river raises the fogs,
And to the greenest Poltava
Dawn clouds float.
And nothing disturbs the peace.
Only the nightingales sing loudly,
Just like after the Poltava battle,
Composing your own cantatas.
3 student
Message about Viktor Belov
4 student
Poem “Oh, radiant and blue land”
Oh, radiant and blue land,
Where is the fortress on a steep slope
Served as a support for Russia,
A reliable and formidable shield.
Dashing winds flew here
And I had to overcome so much!
And how many lead blizzards
And firestorms swept through?!
White Mountains,
Rowan trees with birch trees,
Ore under the hills
Under the sun - bread.
Glory forever
Belgorod land.
God bless you!
Hallowed be fate!
From the ashes I was able to be reborn,
Your palaces are like lace,
Russia is proud of you,
As long as she's alive.
Bells are ringing.
There is hope and sadness in those bells.
And Belgorod, looking into the distance,
Rus' is calling for unity.
Teacher's word:
Students in our class are also trying to write poetry. Now they read them to us.
Students read their own poems.
Teacher's word:
Our meeting ends.
What interesting things did you learn?
What do the listened poems have in common?
Everyone knows that the Motherland begins with those dear places where we were born, studied, and grew up. On all earth this place is the most dear to a person. And the more a person walks on earth, the more dear to him are people, poetry, and all the signs of his native land.
I propose to end this meeting with the words of Dmitry Sergeevich Likhachev: “A child loves his mother and his father, brothers and sisters, his family, his home. Gradually expanding, his affections extend to school, village, city, and his entire country. And this is already a very big and deep feeling, although one cannot stop there and one must love the person in a person.”
- this portal was created so that anyone who enters it is aware of the most interesting and important events that occurred in the cultural space of the Belgorod region.
Cultural life of Russia is inextricably linked with the cultural and spiritual life of its regions. On this portal you can get acquainted with the cultural heritage sites of the region, creative groups, musicians, writers, and artists of our region. And our region has always been generous with talents. The festival movement is developing dynamically in the region, young poets and prose writers are increasingly making themselves known. They want to defend their right to bring their literary gift to the world around them. And the task of the “Literary Belgorod Region” project is to help them with this.
Russian literature last century , Russian modern literature, events in the world of culture, modern Russian writers and the work of writers who have left us - this is what awaits you on this portal. But still, we decided not to limit ourselves only to literature, although the problems and joys of Russian literature will be given attention here great attention. But cultural life is closely connected with social life, so it would be absurd to talk about one and remain silent about the other.
Here you can learn about the latest significant events in the region, as well as find information about the cultural heritage of the region.
which was conceived primarily for young poets and prose writers. We hope that these publications will become the first step on the ladder leading to the heights of excellence for aspiring authors.
- here a modern author comes to a virtual meeting with fellow writers and offers his works to the attention of the participants. They carefully get acquainted with his work and express their opinion.
- here you can find new Belgorod literature and journalism, read and discuss these works.
- the section is dedicated to the cultural heritage of the region. Russian writers and poets of the Belgorod region, who, unfortunately, are no longer with us, are exhibited here in the first place, thereby filling the gap of their practical absence on the Internet. Belgorod authors have the right to exist on the Internet and be available to the attention of many readers
There is also a portal where anyone can come and find a topic of interest. And new authors who want to participate in the work of the Sovremennik studio can present their works there independently.
Welcome to the portal about the cultural life of the Belgorod region!!!
POETS BELGORODSKAYA AREAS
Dymova Anzhelika Nikolaevna,
primary school teacher
MBOU "OO Dmitrievskaya School"
POET
Alexander Mitrofanovich Giryavenko
Alexander Giryavenko
Poetry
How the heat smells like old dust,
How this dust is smoking and flowing!..
And schools of fish stand upside down
Near the chalk, sun-scorched steep slope.
Both freshness and openness have passed
Into invisible, inaudible depths,
And it’s as if the reed has no soul,
And early viburnum is inconspicuous.
The flight of the bumblebee is heavy and lonely
Over the scent of melting flowers...
How the earth sleeps hot and sound,
And the steam of breath is visible over the fields!
And it seems: Poetry alone
It is possible to foresee perpetual motion
Deep waters under the chalk cliffs
Yes, behind the airy shaky wall
The thunderous clouds are silently approaching.
POET
Lira Sultanovna Abdullina
Abdullina Lira Sultanovna born in the village of Kushnarenkovo, Kushnarenkovo district, Bashkir Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic. She graduated from Kushnarenkovskaya secondary school in 1956. Worked as head of department Agriculture regional newspaper "Stalinets" of the Kushnarenkovsky district, literary employee of the regional newspaper "Kolkhoznaya Pravda" in the city of Ufa. After graduating from the Literary Institute in 1964. A. M. Gorky worked as an editor at the Norilsk television studio, and then as an employee of the large-circulation newspaper “Tsementnik” in the Mikhailovsky district of the Ryazan region.
In 1983 she moved to the city of Stary Oskol, Belgorod region. Author of two poetry books: “The snow is high” and “While the bright star burns.” Published in central, republican, city, regional newspapers, in collective collections, anthologies, almanacs.
“And life is just a segment of the path
from the first line to the last..."
(Lira Abdullina)
in the collective collections “69 Parallel” (Krasnoyarsk, 1966) and “Poetry Day”
(Krasnoyarsk, 1967), in the anthology “Poetry”
(Moscow, 1984), “Hour of Russia” (Moscow, 1988),
“Living Word” (Moscow, 1991), in magazines
“New World”, “Youth”, “Ogonyok”,
“Friendship of Peoples”, “Yenisei”, “Day and Night”, “ Student meridian", "Climb",
“Literary Review”, in newspapers of the Krasnoyarsk Territory, Bashkiria, Tatarstan, Ryazan, Belgorod, Novosibirsk regions.
IGOR CHERNUKHIN
It's impossible to imagine Belgorod region 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 subordinated to only one narrow topic and is therefore interesting to the reader throughout creative path poet.
Chernukhin's hero attracts with his sincerity and truth. In the collection of his poems, a character emerges with biographical features related to 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 private, is able to express what is close to everyone.
The poet’s voluminous world is filled with classic images and details real life, which naturally “give birth” to this generalization, which is necessary for the complete perception of the meaning of the poem.
Whatever I. Chernukhin writes about: about the camp, about friends, about love or difficult relationships in the family, the latter usually remain in the shadows, he is open, honest and sincere.
Not everyone is able to subject their life to harsh analysis, without trying to shift the blame to others, and write about it all with rare frankness.
Igor Chernukhin
* * * Why poets are not favored In life it’s like this... And why They push them under the pistols, In a tight noose and prison. Why are they clothed in stone? Why do they lift them up later?.. Why is Cain crying at the stone? Shining with a golden crown?.. 1987
POET
Nikolay Dmitrievich
Gladkikh
Nikolai Gladkikh born on October 5, 1952 in the village of Razumnoye, Belgorod district, Belgorod region. He graduated from eight-year school here. Then he studied at the Kalinin Suvorov School, at the department of military translators at Kharkov State University, and 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 with almost physical accuracy. ... I'll die from cognac When I feel a reserve of troubles in my heart. For the hundredth time I will die like a beggar and a cripple, How Pushkin died, concealing buckshot within himself. I will lie down in the snow as a human right. I will lie down forever, wherever I want to lie down.
He “lay down” on the threshold of his home in Razumnoye. The heart, overflowing with misfortune, so characteristic of Russian poets, stopped, having exhausted its reserve 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 appealed in his poems, before Whom he confessed and repented, begging for patience, love and harmony, calling himself either a jester or a cosmopolitan. In fact, he was and remains a wanderer, lost in time: “I was late for old Rus' and will never reach the young one...”
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 thorny stubble, They, like tears, quietly melt away In the primordial darkness of the earth's roots, They feed her with insights And like birds they fly away Until spring comes.