"War and Peace" is the epic of Leo Tolstoy, which raises many topics and describes many characters and vivid images. One of the important secondary characters is Nikolai Bolkonsky, who is the father of the two central characters of the novel. It is he, being not just a parent, but a true father, who instills in Andrei and Marya the necessary and correct human values.
Hero's appearance
The old prince looks very pedantic, which conveys the main feature of his character. He is short, constantly wearing a powdered wig and an old-fashioned caftan. A characteristic feature of the appearance of Nikolai Balkonsky are gray hanging eyebrows. His hands are withered by old age, but there is still a youthful light in his eyes. An important feature The appearance of the hero is his manner of movement. His movements seem to go against time, which in his estate stretches long and slowly. He walks quickly and swiftly, expressing his entire worldview in sharp, cheerful, dashing movements.
The character of Nikolai Bolkonsky
Home hallmark prince is pedantry. He is a rather difficult person, sometimes even overly proud. Nikolai Andreevich cannot tolerate idle pastime, he is very active, constantly striving to be busy with useful work. Everything in his house lives according to a strict schedule, from which he does not allow deviations. Stupidity, superstition, waste of time are among the most terrible human vices for him. Despite his adherence to principles and some severity of character, Bolkonsky - kind person following high moral principles. Family honor, dignity, and prudence are important to him. He never goes against his principles. Despite the fact that the prince was protected from public life, he still carefully monitors what is happening in the country and in society.
Attitude towards children
The prince is sometimes too strict with his children, but all this is only from Great love. He seeks to educate them as real people, for whom such words as honor, dignity, patriotism are not empty. He is not prone to sensitivity, almost never shows his feelings. Even seeing off his son to the war, he did not hug him, but only looked intently, giving wise parting words. He is too picky and strict towards Princess Marya, but this is not because the old prince does not love his daughter, but because he wants to educate in her best qualities, to raise a worthy person and a real girl.
To understand the hero, to study the motives of his actions, the external and internal characteristics of Nikolai Andreevich Bolkonsky always help. He is a true prince who is able to preserve the honor of his family, raise children according to their status and position. Bolkonsky remains true to his rank until his death. Despite the fact that secular life presupposes an idle existence, the prince shows by his example that the title and status can only be confirmed by deeds and actions. This is how the son of the character grows up, main character novel "War and Peace" Andrei Bolkonsky.
Prince Nikolai Andreevich Bolkonsky was a retired general exiled to the village of Bald Mountains. The prince lived permanently on the estate with his daughter Marya. He loved order, punctuality, never wasted his time on trifles, and therefore raised his children according to his harsh principles. He devoted a lot of time to the education of Marya, loved her very much, but was strict and found fault with her on every occasion. It was hard to put up with her piety, because he did not understand why she hosted wanderers and did not believe in any superstitions. He was very blunt and reserved in expressing his feelings. In the house, everyone lived according to a certain schedule and the order established by him.
For the prince, it was considered the most important not to tarnish his honor and preserve his dignity. From childhood, he instilled a sense of pride in his son, taught him to always be honest and noble, defend his point of view, fulfill his duty to his homeland, so Andrei grew up to be a true patriot. Although Nikolai Andreevich did not participate in public life, he was always interested in all the events that took place in Russia. During the war with the French, he served as commander-in-chief of the militia.
Bolkonsky was very smart, appreciated order, liked to work in the garden and write memoirs.
In the novel of Nikolai Bolkonsky, we see him as a highly moral Russian patriot who loves his homeland and his children.
Eating, tasting a little honey, and now I die.
1st Book of Kings.
A few years ago
Where merging noise
Hugging like two sisters
Jets of Aragva and Kura,
There was a monastery. Because of the mountain
And now he sees a pedestrian
Collapsed gate pillars
And the towers, and the church vault;
But don't smoke under it
Incense burners fragrant smoke,
Can't hear singing at a late hour
Praying monks for us.
Now one old man is gray-haired,
The ruins guard half-dead,
Forgotten by people and death,
Sweeps the dust off the tombstones
Which the inscription says
About the glory of the past - and about
How dejected by his crown,
Such and such a king, in such and such a year,
He handed over his people to Russia.
And God's grace came down
To Georgia! - she bloomed
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies
Beyond friendly bayonets.
Once a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill, could not bear
Works of a long way.
He seemed to be about six years old;
Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But it has a painful ailment
Developed then a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
Languished - even a weak groan
Did not fly out of children's lips,
He rejected food with a sign,
And quietly, proudly died.
Out of pity, one monk
He looked after the patient, and within the walls
He remained protective
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran from everyone,
I wandered silently, alone,
Looked sighing to the east
Tommy obscure melancholy
On the side of his own.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized by the holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the color of years
Take a monastic vow
How suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all searches for him
Were in vain, but then
They found him in the steppe without feelings
And again they brought to the monastery;
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, like a long labor,
He experienced sickness or hunger.
He didn't answer the interrogation.
And every day noticeably sluggish;
And his end was near.
Then a black man came to him
With admonition and prayer;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
I got up, gathering the rest of my strength,
And for a long time he said:
"You listen to my confession
Came here, thank you.
Everything is better in front of someone
Lighten my chest with words;
But I did not harm people,
And so my deeds
Not much good for you to know;
Can you tell your soul?
I lived little, and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one
But only full of anxiety
I would change if I could.
I knew only one thought power,
One - but fiery passion:
She, like a worm, lived in me,
It gnawed at the soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From stuffy cells and prayers
In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds
Where people are free as eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
Nurtured with tears and longing;
Her before heaven and earth
I now loudly acknowledge
And I don't ask for forgiveness.
"Old man! I heard many times
That you saved me from death -
What for? ... gloomy and lonely,
A torn leaf by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
The soul of a child, the fate of a monk.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words are "father" and "mother".
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I wean in the monastery
From these sweet names.
In vain: their sound was born
With me. I have seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
And I did not find
Not only sweet souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my heart I swore an oath:
Though for a moment someday
my burning chest
Press with longing to the chest of another,
Though unfamiliar, but native.
Alas, now those dreams
Died in full beauty
And I, as I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.
“The grave does not scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold, eternal silence;
But I'm sorry to part with my life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
Rampant youth dreams?
Or didn't know or forgot
How I hated and loved;
How the heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
AT deep well walls,
Child of an unknown country
Clinging, young dove
Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
I hate you: you are weak, you are gray,
And from desires you weaned.
What is the need? You lived, old man!
You have something in the world to forget
You lived - I could also live!
"Do you want to know what I saw
At will? - Lush fields
Crowned hills
Trees growing all around
Noisy fresh crowd,
Like brothers in a circular dance.
I saw heaps of dark rocks
When the stream separated them,
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone hugs
And they long for a meeting every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They will never get along!
I have seen mountain ranges,
Weird like dreams
When at dawn
Smoked like altars
Their heights in the blue sky
And cloud after cloud
Leaving your secret lodging,
Run directed to the east -
Like a white caravan
Passing birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the fog
In the snows burning like a diamond
Gray-haired, unshakable Caucasus;
And my heart was
Easy, I don't know why.
That once I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer.
And I remembered my father's house,
Our gorge, and all around
In the shadow of a scattered aul;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered swarthy old men,
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against the father's porch
Sitting with the importance of the face;
And the sheen of the rimmed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
It's all a blur
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? he is alive
In your combat clothes
Appeared to me and I remembered
Chain mail ringing, and the gleam of a gun,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Above my cradle...
In the gorge there ran a stream,
It was noisy, but not deep;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And watched the swallows with a glance,
When they, before the rain,
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening hearth
Long stories about
How did the people of the past live?
When the world was even richer.
"Do you want to know what I did
At will? Lived - and my life
Without these three blessed days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
Long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We will be born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour,
When the storm scared you
When, crowding at the altar,
You lay prostrate on the ground
I ran. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be happy to embrace the storm!
With the eyes of the clouds I followed
I caught lightning with my hand ...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm? ..
“I ran for a long time - where, where,
Don't know! not a single star
Didn't light up the hard way.
I had fun inhaling
Into my tormented chest
The night freshness of those forests
But only. I have many hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
Lie down between tall grasses;
I listened: there is no chase.
The storm has subsided. pale light
Stretched in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the teeth of distant mountains;
Motionless, silently I lay.
Sometimes in the gorge a jackal
Screaming and crying like a child
And shining with smooth scales,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not grip my soul:
I myself, like a beast, was a stranger to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.
"Down deep below me
A stream reinforced by a thunderstorm
Noisy, and its noise is deaf
Got it. Although without words
I understood that conversation
Silent murmur, eternal dispute
With a stubborn pile of stones.
Then he suddenly subsided, then stronger
It resounded in the silence;
And so, in the misty sky
The birds sang, and the east
got rich; breeze
Raw stirred the sheets;
Sleepy flowers died,
And like them, towards the day,
I raised my head...
I looked around; don't melt:
I became afraid; on the edge
Of the threatening abyss I lay,
Where howled, spinning, an angry shaft;
There were steps of rocks;
But only evil spirit walked on them
When, cast down from heaven,
Disappeared in an underground abyss.
“God's garden bloomed around me;
Plant rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And curls of vines
Curled, showing off between the trees
Transparent green sheets;
And the clusters are full on them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A shy swarm of birds flew towards them.
And again I fell to the ground,
And began to listen again
They whispered through the bushes
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
Merged here; did not ring out
In solemn praise hour
Only a man's proud voice.
Everything I felt then
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them
To live, even mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I'm in it with my eyes and soul
Drowned while the midday heat
My dreams are not dispersed
And I became thirsty.
"Then to the stream from on high,
Holding on to flexible bushes
From stove to stove I did my best
Started going down. From under your feet
Breaking off, the stone sometimes
Rolled down - behind him the reins
It smoked, the ashes curled like a pillar;
Buzzing and jumping, then
He was absorbed by the wave;
And I hung over the deep
But free youth is strong,
And death seemed not terrible!
Only I am from steep heights
Went down, the freshness of the mountain waters
blew towards me,
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trembling,
I looked up fearfully
And he began to listen eagerly.
And closer, closer everything sounded
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was taught to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But she got into my mind,
And to me, only dusk comes,
Her invisible spirit sings.
"Holding a pitcher over your head,
Georgian narrow path
Went down to the beach. Sometimes
She slipped between the stones
Laughing at their awkwardness.
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily, back
Curves long veils
Throwing back. summer heat
Covered in golden shadow
Her face and chest; and heat
I breathed from her mouth and cheeks.
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep
So full of secrets of love
What are my ardent thoughts
Were embarrassed. I only remember
Pitcher ringing - when the jet
Slowly poured into him
And a rustle ... nothing more.
When did I wake up again
And drained the blood from my heart
She was already far away;
And she walked at least quieter, but easily,
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!
Far away, in the cool haze,
Seemed rooted to the rock
Two sakli as a friendly couple;
Above a flat roof
Blue smoke billowed.
I see as if now
As the door slowly opened...
And closed again!
I know you don't understand
My longing, my sadness;
And if I could, I would be sorry:
Memories of those moments
In me, let them die with me.
"I am exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily ...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian image of a young.
And strange, sweet longing
Again my chest ached.
For a long time I tried to breathe -
And woke up. Already the moon
Above shone, and alone
Only a cloud crept after her
As for your prey,
Embrace greedy opening.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Snow chain tops
Away sparkled before me,
Yes, a stream splashed on the banks.
In the familiar sakla a light
It trembled, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So goes out bright Star!
I wanted ... but I'm there
I didn't dare to go up. I have one goal
Go to your native country
He had in his soul - and overcame
The suffering of hunger, as he could.
And here is the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost in sight of the mountains
And then he started to go astray.
“In vain in a rage, sometimes,
I tore with a desperate hand
Blackthorn tangled with ivy:
All the forest was, the eternal forest around,
Terrible and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush...
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
It was the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground;
And sobbed in a frenzy,
And gnawed at the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
In it with combustible dew ...
But trust me, human help
I did not want ... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a beast of the steppe;
And if even a minute cry
I cheated - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.
"Do you remember childhood years:
I never knew tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Just a dark forest
Yes, the month that floated in the sky!
Illuminated by his beam
Covered in moss and sand
impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a field. Suddenly on it
A shadow flashed, and two lights
Sparks flew ... and then
Some kind of beast in one jump
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
Playing backwards on the sand.
That was the desert's eternal guest -
Mighty bar. raw bone
He gnawed and squealed merrily;
That bloody gaze directed,
Wagging your tail gently
For a full month - and on it
The wool was sheen with silver.
I waited, grabbing a horned bough,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited by the will to fight
And blood ... yes, the hand of fate
She took me in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could be in the land of fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.
"I was waiting. And in the shadow of the night
He sensed the enemy, and howl
Drawling, plaintive, like a groan,
There was suddenly ... and he began
Angrily paw dig sand,
He stood on his hind legs, then lay down,
And the first crazy jump
I was threatened with a terrible death ...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and fast.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead was cut ...
He groaned like a man
And capsized. But again
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, the deadly battle!
“To me, he threw himself on his chest;
But in the throat I managed to stick
And then turn twice
My weapon... He howled,
I rushed with my last strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tightly two friends,
Fell at once, and in the darkness
The fight continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment;
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I burned, squealed like him;
As if I myself were born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
As if from childhood my tongue
I'm not used to the sound...
But my enemy began to languish,
Move, breathe slower
Squeezed me for the last time...
The pupils of his motionless eyes
Flashed menacingly - and then
Closed quietly eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He met death face to face
As a fighter follows in battle! ..
"You see on my chest
Deep claw marks;
They haven't grown yet
And they didn't close. but the earth
A damp cover will refresh them,
And death will live forever.
I forgot about them then.
And, once again gathering the rest of the forces,
I wandered into the depths of the forest ...
But in vain I argued with fate:
She laughed at me!
“I came out of the forest. And so
The day woke up, and a round dance
The parting luminaries disappeared
in its rays. Foggy forest
He spoke. Far away aul
Started smoking. A vague rumble
In the valley with the wind ran ...
I sat down and began to listen;
But he fell silent with the breeze.
And I cast my eyes around:
That region seemed familiar to me.
And I was scared to understand
I couldn't take that long again
I returned to my prison;
What is useless for so many days
I caressed a secret plan,
Endured, languished and suffered,
And why? .. So that in the color of years,
Barely looking at God's light,
With the sonorous murmur of oak forests,
Having known the bliss of liberty,
Take it to your grave
Longing for the homeland of the saint,
The hopes of the deceived reproach
And shame on your pity!
Still immersed in doubt
I thought it was a bad dream...
Suddenly distant bells ring
Resounded again in silence
And then everything became clear to me ...
O! I recognized him immediately!
He has more than once from children's eyes
Chased visions of living dreams
About dear neighbors and relatives,
About the will of the wild steppes,
About light, mad horses,
About wonderful battles between the rocks,
Where all alone I won! ..
And I listened without tears, without strength.
It seemed that the call was coming out
From the heart - like someone
He struck me in the chest with iron.
And then I vaguely understood
What is the trace to my homeland
Never lay.
“Yes, I have earned my lot!
Mighty horse in the steppe of a stranger,
Dropping a bad rider
Home from afar
Find a direct and short path ...
What am I to him? Vain chest
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
Dream game, disease of the mind.
I'm stamped with my prison
Left ... Such is the flower
Dungeon: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp plates,
And long leaves young
Did not dissolve, everything was waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Gone, and a good hand
Sadness touched the flower,
And he was transferred to the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
Breathed the sweetness of being...
But what? As soon as dawn came
A scorching beam burned her
A flower bred in prison...
"And like him, scorched me
The fire of a merciless day.
In vain I hid in the grass
My weary head;
A withered leaf is her crown
Thorn over my brow
Coiled, and in the face with fire
The earth itself breathed to me.
Glittering quickly in the sky,
Sparks swirled; from the white rocks
Steam flowed. The world of God slept
In a dumb daze
Despair heavy sleep.
At least the corncrake shouted,
Ile dragonfly live trill
I heard, or a stream
Baby talk ... Only a snake,
Rustling dry weeds,
Glittering yellow back
As if with a golden inscription
Blade covered to the bottom
Wandering loose sand,
Sliding carefully; after,
Playing, basking on it,
Triple twisted in a ring;
That, as if suddenly burned,
She rushed, she jumped
And hid in the distant bushes ...
And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through the vapors
Two mountains blackened in the distance,
Our monastery because of one
Glittered with battlements.
Below Aragva and Kura,
Silver edging
The soles of the fresh islands,
Through the roots of the whispering bushes
They ran together and easily ...
I was far from them!
I wanted to get up - in front of me
Everything swirled with speed;
I wanted to scream - my tongue is dry
Silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Mortal raving.
It seemed to me
That I'm lying on the wet bottom
Deep river - and was
Around the mysterious haze.
And I crave eternal sing,
Like ice cold stream
The murmur poured into my chest ...
And I was only afraid to fall asleep
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the sky
Wave crashed into wave
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where I played as a child
I would trade heaven and eternity...
"When I begin to die,
And, believe me, you won't have to wait long -
You led me to move
In our garden, in the place where they bloomed
White acacia two bushes ...
The grass between them is so thick
And the fresh air is so fragrant
And so transparently golden
Leaf playing in the sun!
They put me there.
By the glow of a blue day
I'm drunk for the last time.
From there you can see the Caucasus!
Perhaps he is from his heights
Greetings farewell will send me,
Will send with a cool breeze ...
And close to me before the end
The native sound will be heard again!
And I will think that a friend
Or brother, leaning over me,
Oter with attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death
He tells me about a lovely country ...
And with this thought I fall asleep
And I won't curse anyone!"
Notes
Published according to "Poems of M. Lermontov", St. Petersburg, 1840, pp. 121-159, where the poem was published for the first time. Poems (censorship passes) are restored according to the manuscript, part of which is an authorized copy, part is an autograph (title page, epigraph and some verses) - IRLI, op. 1, No. 13 (notebook XIII), ll. 1-14 about.
On the cover of notebook XIII there is Lermontov's note: "August 5, 1839". This mark is the basis for dating the poem. The date "1840" given in the 1840 edition of "Poems" is not accurate. The differences between the text of "Poems" of 1840 and the manuscript are insignificant: the title of the poem has been changed (the poem was originally titled "Bary") and several author's corrections have been made.
The poem "Mtsyri" is connected with the earlier "Confession" (1829-1830) and "Boyarin Orsha" (1835-1836). A number of verses were transferred from "Confession" to "Boyar Orsha". On the other hand, many of the poems of Boyar Orsha were subsequently included in the text of Mtsyri. The verses of "Confession" and "Boyar Orsha" almost coincide; "Boyarina Orsha" and "Mtsyri".
There is a story by P. A. Viskovatov about the origin of the idea of the poem, based on the testimony of A. P. Shan-Girey and A. A. Khastatov. The poet, wandering in 1837 along the old Georgian Military Highway, “came across in Mtskheta ... a lonely monk, or, rather, the old monastery attendant“ Bury ”in Georgian. The watchman was the last of the brethren of the abolished nearby monastery. Lermontov got into a conversation with him and learned from him that he was a mountaineer, captured by a child by General Yermolov during the expedition. The general took him with him and left the sick boy to the monastery brethren. Here he grew up; For a long time he could not get used to the monastery, he yearned and made attempts to escape to the mountains. The consequence of one such attempt was a long illness that brought him to the brink of the grave. Having recovered, the savage calmed down and remained in the monastery, where he became especially attached to the old monk. The curious and lively story "Bary" impressed Lermontov ... and so he decided to use what was suitable in "Confession" and "Boyar Orsha", and transferred all the action from Spain and then the Lithuanian border to Georgia. Now, in the hero of the poem, he could reflect the daring of the adamant free sons of the Caucasus, which he liked, and in the poem itself, depict the beauties of Caucasian nature ”(“ Russian Starina ”, 1887, No. 10, pp. 124–125).
In the literature about Lermontov, some inaccuracies were pointed out in the cited story of Viskovatov (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov. Ed. " Soviet writer”, M., 1951, pp. 150–154).
"Mtsyri" consists of 26 small chapters and is almost entirely a monologue of the hero.
At the beginning of the poem, Lermontov described the ancient Mtskheta Cathedral and the graves of the last Georgian kings, Heraclius II and George XII, under which Georgia was annexed to Russia in 1801.
The central episode "Mtsyri" - the battle of the hero with the leopard - is based on the motifs of Georgian folk poetry, in particular the Khevsur song about a tiger and a young man, the theme of which is also reflected in Shota Rustaveli's poem "The Knight in the Panther's Skin" (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov Publishing house "Soviet writer", M., 1951, pp. 144-150). There are 14 known versions of the ancient Georgian song "The Youth and the Tiger", published by A. G. Shanidze (see: L. P. Semenov. Lermontov and the folklore of the Caucasus. Pyatigorsk, 1941, pp. 60–62).
The revolutionary democrats were close to the rebellious pathos of the poem "Mtsyri". “What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is the favorite ideal of our poet, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, it breathes with his own spirit, strikes him with his own power, ”wrote V. G. Belinsky (Belinsky, vol. 6, p. 54).
According to N. P. Ogarev, Lermontov’s Mtsyri is “his clearest, or only ideal” (N. Ogarev. Preface to the collection “Russian Hidden literature XIX century”, part I, London, 1861, p. LXVI).
The grave does not scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold eternal silence;
But I'm sorry to part with my life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
Rampant youth dreams?
Or didn't know or forgot
How I hated and loved;
How the heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall
Child of an unknown country
Clinging, young dove
Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
I'm ashamed of you; you are weak, you are gray
And from desires you weaned.
What is the need? You lived, old man!
You have something in the world to forget
You lived - I could also live!
Do you want to know what I saw
At will? - Lush fields
Crowned hills
Trees growing all around
Noisy fresh crowd,
Like brothers in a circular dance.
I saw heaps of dark rocks
When the stream separated them.
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone hugs
And they long for a meeting every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Weird like dreams
When at dawn
Smoked like altars
Their heights in the blue sky
And cloud after cloud
Leaving your secret lodging,
Run directed to the east -
Like a white caravan
Passing birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the mist
In the snows burning like a diamond
Gray unshakable Caucasus;
And my heart was
Easy, I don't know why.
That once I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer ...
And I remembered my father's house,
Our gorge and all around
In the shadow of a scattered aul;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered swarthy old men,
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against the father's porch
Sitting with the importance of the face;
And the sheen of the rimmed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
All this is a vague succession
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? he is alive
In your combat clothes
Appeared to me and I remembered
Chain mail ringing, and the gleam of a gun,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Above my cradle...
There was a stream running through the gorge.
It was noisy, but shallow;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And watched the swallows with a glance,
When they are before the rain
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening hearth
Long stories about
How did the people of the past live?
When the world was even richer.
Do you want to know what I did
At will? Lived - and my life
Without these three blessed days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
Long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We will be born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour,
When the storm scared you
When, crowding at the altar,
You lay prostrate on the ground
I ran. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be happy to embrace the storm!
With the eyes of the clouds I followed
I caught lightning with my hand ...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm?
I ran for a long time - where, where?
Don't know! not a single star
Didn't light up the hard way.
I had fun inhaling
Into my tormented chest
The night freshness of those forests
But only! I have many hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
Lie down between tall grasses;
I listened: there is no chase.
The storm has subsided. pale light
Stretched in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the teeth of distant mountains;
Motionless, silently I lay,
Sometimes in the gorge a jackal
Screaming and crying like a child
And, shining with smooth scales,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not grip my soul:
I myself, like a beast, was a stranger to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.
1 A few years ago, Where, merging, they make noise, Embracing like two sisters, Jets of Aragva and Kura, There was a monastery. From behind the mountain And now the pedestrian sees The pillars of the collapsed gates, And the towers, and the church vault; But the fragrant smoke of the censer is no longer smoking under it, The singing of the praying monks for us is not heard at the late hour. Now one gray-haired old man, The ruins of the half-dead guardian, Forgotten by people and death, Sweeps the dust from the gravestones, Which the inscription speaks of the glory of the past - and how, dejected by his crown, Such and such a king, in such and such a year, Handed over to Russia own people. --- And God's grace descended on Georgia! Since then, she has blossomed in the shade of her gardens, Without fear of enemies, But on the edge of friendly bayonets. 2 One day a Russian general was driving from the mountains to Tiflis; He was carrying a prisoner child. He fell ill, could not endure the labors of the long journey; He was, it seemed, about six years old, Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild, And weak and flexible, like a reed. But in him a painful illness Developed then the mighty spirit of His fathers. He languished without complaint, not even a faint moan escaped from children's lips, He rejected food with a sign And quietly, proudly died. Out of pity, one monk looked down on the Sick, and he remained within the walls of the Preservative, Saved by friendly Art. But, a stranger to childish pleasures, At first he ran from everyone, He wandered silently, alone, He looked, sighing, to the east, Driven by obscure longing By the side of his native. But after that he got used to captivity, He began to understand a foreign language, He was baptized by the holy father And, unfamiliar with the noisy light, Already wanted to pronounce a monastic vow in the prime of his years, When suddenly one day he disappeared on an autumn night. The dark forest Stretched in circles over the mountains. For three days all searches for him were in vain, but then they found him unconscious in the steppe and again brought him to the monastery. He was terribly pale and thin And weak, as if a long work, Illness or hunger experienced. He did not answer the interrogation And every day he was noticeably sluggish. And his end was near; Then the black came to him With exhortation and prayer; And, having proudly listened, the patient Heaved himself up, gathering the rest of his strength, And for a long time he spoke like this: “You came here to listen to my confession, thank you. It is of little use to know, But can I tell my soul? I lived a little, and lived in captivity. Two such lives for one, But only full of worries, I would trade if I could. I knew only one thought power, One - but fiery passion: She, like a worm, lived in me, Gnawed my soul and burned it. She called my dreams From stuffy cells and prayers To that wonderful world of worries and battles, Where rocks hide in the clouds, Where people are free like eagles. I fed this passion in the darkness of the night with tears and anguish; I now loudly acknowledge her before heaven and earth And I do not ask for forgiveness. 4 Old man! I heard many times, That you saved me from death - Why? .. Gloomy and lonely, A sheet torn off by a thunderstorm, I grew up in the gloomy walls As a child's soul, a monk's fate. I could not say the sacred words "father" and "mother" to anyone. Of course, you wanted, old man, To wean me in the monastery From these sweet names - In vain: their sound was born With me. And I saw in others the Fatherland, home, friends, relatives, But I did not find in myself Not only lovely souls - graves! Then, without wasting empty tears, In my soul I swore an oath: Although for a moment someday My flaming chest Press with longing to the chest of another, Though unfamiliar, but dear. Alas! Now those dreams Have perished in full beauty, And as I lived, in a foreign land I will die a slave and an orphan. 5 The grave does not frighten me: There, they say, suffering sleeps In the cold eternal silence; But I'm sorry to part with my life. I'm young, young... Did you know the wild dreams of youth? Either he did not know, or he forgot, How he hated and loved; How my heart beat faster At the sight of the sun and fields From a high corner tower, Where the air is fresh and where at times In a deep hole in the wall, A child of an unknown country, Clinging close, a young dove Sits, frightened by a thunderstorm? Now let the beautiful light make you sick; you are weak, you are gray, And you have lost the habit of desires. What is the need? You lived, old man! You have something in the world to forget, You lived - I could also live! 6 Do you want to know what I saw in the wild? - Lush fields, Hills, covered with a crown of Trees, overgrown around, Noisy with a fresh crowd, Like brothers in a circular dance. I saw heaps of dark rocks, When the stream separated them. And I guessed their thoughts: It was given to me from above! Stretched in the air for a long time Their stone embraces, And they yearn to meet every moment; But the days are running, the years are running - They will never come together! I saw mountain ranges, Fanciful as dreams, When in the hour of dawn They smoked like altars, Their heights in the blue sky, And cloud after cloud, Leaving their secret overnight, The run directed to the east - As if a white caravan of stray birds from distant lands ! In the distance I saw through the fog, In the snows, burning like a diamond, The grey-haired unshakable Caucasus; And it was easy for my heart, I don't know why. A secret voice told me That once I lived there too, And the past became clearer, clearer in my memory. .. 7 And I remembered my father's house, Our gorge and all around In the shade a scattered aul; I heard the evening rumble Home running herds And the distant barking of familiar dogs. I remembered swarthy old men, In the light of moonlit evenings Against my father's porch, Sitting with an air of dignity; And the gleam of the framed sheaths Of long daggers... and like a dream All this suddenly ran in front of me in a vague succession. And my father? as if alive In his military clothes He appeared to me, and I remembered The ringing of chain mail, and the gleam of a gun, And the proud, unbending look, And my young sisters... The rays of their sweet eyes And the sound of their songs and speeches Over my cradle... In the gorge there was a stream. It was noisy, but shallow; To him, on the golden sand, I went to play at noon And watched the swallows with my eyes, When they touched the waves with their wings before the rain. And I remembered our peaceful home And in front of the evening hearth Long stories about How people lived in the old days, When the world was even richer. 8 Do you want to know what I did in the wild? I lived - and my life Without these three blissful days It would be sadder and darker Your powerless old age. A long time ago I thought To look at the distant fields, To find out if the earth is beautiful, To find out, for freedom or prison We will be born into this world. And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour, When the storm frightened you, When, crowding at the altar, You lay prostrate on the ground, I ran away. Oh, I, like a brother, would be glad to embrace the storm! I watched the clouds with my eyes, I caught the lightning with my hand... Tell me, what among these walls could you give me in return for That brief but living friendship, Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm?
