Elena RASKINA,

Moscow, especially for KV

“I grew up in the bosom of serfdom, fed with the milk of a serf nurse, brought up by serf mothers, and, finally, taught to read and write by a serf literate…,” Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin wrote about himself.

The Saltykovs were large landowners - and ruled not only over the land, but also over the souls of the serfs. And the writer's parents had 2,600 such souls. The Saltykov estate was located in Poshekhonye - now it is the vicinity of the city of Taldom near Moscow, the village of Spas-Ugol. Where does such a rare name - Spas-Angle come from? It is explained, however, very simply: the village is located at the junction of three regions (provinces): Moscow, Tver and Yaroslavl (therefore - a corner). But the first part of the name is associated with the Saltykov family church - the Church of the Transfiguration of the Lord.

Burnt manor and surviving church

It is here, against the backdrop of a tender, sad, kind of kindly-tired nature (the one about which K.D. Balmont said: “There is tired tenderness in Russian nature, / The silent pain of hidden sadness ...”), and the Saltykov Museum is now located - Shchedrin. It is not located in the Saltykov family estate, since it no longer exists. Already a year afterOctober revolution The Saltykov estate in Spas-Ugl was confiscated and then burned down. Either the revolutionaries burned it, or it disappeared, like any house left unattended. And until the 1970s, seed potatoes were kept in the Saltykov family church. The sad history of Bolshevik barbarism!

One way or another, the estate no longer exists, and only the family church, the Church of the Transfiguration of the Lord, remained from the Saltykovs, in the refectory of which the historical and literary museum found shelter. This museum was opened through the efforts of local local historians-enthusiasts: director T. Kulikova, editor of the regional newspaper "Zarya" V. Savateev, teacher L. Neshumova, Shchedrinist from St. Petersburg A. Levenko and other admirers of Mikhail Evgrafovich's work. The temple is active, the museum is also active, but they peacefully exist side by side. Thus the living, ardent faith of Christ helps Russian literature.

True, the temple needs restoration - the beautiful frescoes have peeled off, the walls need to be repainted, the dome has faded. Probably, the authorities - both local and federal - have no time to allocate money for the repair of the temple, and at the same time build a separate room for the museum. The Russian Orthodox Church is generous, she sheltered the museum of the great writer, but still, a temple is a temple, and a museum is a museum. And it would be good for the museum not to huddle in the refectory church, but to live its own life. It is sad to see how the oases of Russian culture are being destroyed. XIX century, as the family church built by the writer's grandmother, Nadezhda Ivanovna Saltykova in 1797, fell into disrepair ...

"Warrior and adversary conqueror"

But still, the manor coniferous and linden alleys, a cascade of ponds, the holy source of Jordan and the Saltykov family cemetery near the walls of the temple, where the grandfather and grandmother, parents, brothers and sisters of the great writer rest, have been preserved. In 1957, a bust of M.E. was installed in the village of Spas-Ugol. Saltykov-Shchedrin by L.A. Berntam. And the museum exhibits some things that belonged to the Saltykovs: the family coat of arms, monthly calendars, the writer's father's smoking pipe, documents, manuscripts, photographs, letters, books, furniture ... For example, a sofa on which the writer's sisters sat with embroidery, or a portrait touching boy in a white shirt with huge dark eyes. This is the writer himself, little Mishenka Saltykov.

Mikhail Evgrafovich was born on January 15 (27), 1826 in family estate Spas-Angle. Mishenka's godfather, tradesman Dmitry Mikhailovich Kurbatov, after the completion of the rite of baptism, prophesied that "this baby will be a warrior and conqueror of adversaries ...". If by adversaries we mean officials-bureaucrats and obscurantist landlords, whom Mikhail Evgrafovich mercilessly ridiculed, then the prediction came true. Saltykov-Shchedrin really fought a lot in his life - although not with a weapon in his hands, but with a pen on paper. But the “pompadours and pompadours”, depicted by him in the book of the same name, received what is called “first number”.

Here, for example, is such an angry and caustic reasoning: “I will say, for example, to myself: make me a governor - I will be a governor; make me a censor, I will be a censor. In the first case: I will break the roof on the governor's house, expand the hospital, whitewash the ceilings in government offices and collect old arrears; if, in addition to this, it will be necessary to do some other “essence”, and I will do the “essence”: you will be satisfied. In the second case, I will completely reject many compositions, I will pluck many, I will decorate many with sayings of my own fiction ... (...) You don’t just need to hurry, but simply call on your subordinate and say to him: dear sir! Don't you understand? Believe that he will immediately understand and begin to mint such miracles that you will even admire him when you look at him. You will read such a passage, think about it and understand that nothing has changed with us ... Or almost nothing. Only "gracious sovereigns" are now called differently.

Mikhail Saltykov followed his father in character and ability: Evgraf Vasilyevich knew foreign languages, studied science, and was considered one of the most educated nobles in Poshekhonye. But mother, Olga Mikhailovna, from the merchant family of the Zabelins, was a “minister in a skirt”, a “woman-fist”. She was not interested in science and art, but the landowner managed to increase the family wealth. Mishenka knew the alphabet at the age of three, at four he began to speak French and German "by ear", and at the age of seven he began to learn to read and write under the guidance of the serf painter Pavel Sokolov. At the age of eight, the boy read the Gospel and later wrote that it was this eternal book that “the rudiments of a universal human conscience” settled in his heart.

"I love this poor nature..."

Then there was study at the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum, writing poetry, and at first - complete indifference to prose, and then - ardent attachment to it. Mikhail Evgrafovich had to serve for a long time under the command of those "pompadour" officials, whom he later so caustically and aptly ridiculed. Childhood memories are reflected in the last work of the writer, "Poshekhonskaya antiquity", a farewell gift to his native Spas-Ugl. About Poshekhon nature, Mikhail Evgrafovich wrote touchingly and penetratingly: “I love this poor nature, perhaps because, whatever it is, it still belongs to me; she became related to me in exactly the same way as I became related to her; she cherished my youth, she witnessed the first troubles of my heart, and since then belongs to her the best part myself".

Tatyana Alexandrovna Khlebyankina
Director of the House-Museum S.A. Klychkova

To When, in some distant cosmic XXXI century, a curious and grateful descendant wants to touch with his heart the history of his ancestors, the history of Kitezh peasant Russia and the Crane homeland, first of all we advise him to open the wise talented books of our outstanding fellow countryman, poet and prose writer, translator and publicist Silver Age Sergey Antonovich Klychkov (07/17/1889 - 10/8/1937), because the images of his works were really born “from a star”, and his work is “obedience, a long, long obedience, an approach to the Highest, to Existing beyond our eye and beyond our soul!" in alliance with the "sweet, beautiful Muse ... Invisible, incomprehensible!" Wholly belonging, like the poet, to the village and nature, beloved with all his heart by the "Crane Homeland".

Mikhail Efgrafovich Saltykov-Shchedrin (1826 - 1889)

Happy is the land that has nurtured a talent of such power, but three times happy is the land of Taldom and Tver, and, moreover, Moscow, which has given the world a whole galaxy of talents that, as it were, pass on the spiritual and creative baton to each other, starting from the great Russian satirist writer M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin, an outstanding explorer of Siberia and Far East M. S. Korsakov (the post of Krsakovsky is named after him, now the city of Korsakov on Sakhalin Island and the Korsakov Islands!), to the best poet of the 20th century of the Dmitrovsky district L. N. Zilov, laureate Stalin Prize V. N. Azhaev, pilot-cosmonaut, Hero of Russia Yu. Baturin and many, many others. All of them made each their invaluable contribution to the flourishing future of our blue planet Earth! In defense and development of its nature. So it was the writer M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin back in mid-nineteenth century, one of the first to defend native nature noting its predatory extermination by the "new owners" shortly after the abolition of serfdom. Here is how he writes about this in the essay “On the Road Again”: “Our places have become bad, unattractive ... as long as the forests were intact, it was possible to live, but now it’s like end times came. Soon no mushroom, no berry, no bird - nothing will happen. Let's go ...?? .., cold, lack of rain: the earth is cracking, but it does not give steam. It’s a joke to say, May is halfway through, but we don’t leave the sheepskin coat! (see the journal "Domestic Notes" No. 10 of 1873).

Mikhail Semenovich Korsakov (1826 - 1871)

In his famous “Provincial Essays”, the writer noted: “I love this poor nature, perhaps because, what it is, it still belongs to me; she was related to me, just as I was related to her; she cherished my youth, she witnessed the first anxieties of my heart, and since then she has owned the best part of me.”

Lev Nikolaevich Zilov (10/15/1883 – 01/25/1937), a descendant of the famous Gardner porcelain dynasty, can rightly be called a singer of native nature, for him the favorite river Dubna became a symbol of his native land, near which the poet was born in the village of Kushki near Verbilki:

... And I'm from Dubna. Its transparent moisture
And baptized, and vspoen. Forever and ever
I remember through the years
Bog oaks with black driftwood
Strongly infused water.

And the healing-burning cold is memorable
Motionless dark blue whirlpools...
Everything seems: I will dive - and I will be young,
I'll take a sip of Dubna's water - and the dregs of years
I will pour out of the rot of life like malt ...

As if summing up a certain result in a poem dedicated to his mother, Lev Nikolayevich wrote:

I thank you for
That you gave me the happiness of life.
For everything that I have lived
In the homeland you have chosen.

For choosing to be a father
Me Kushetsky Don Quixote
And sent to life with a verse
You instead of the White Swamp.

For being on the Dubna River,
The sung Prishvina with Klychkov,
I got to be happy
Earth, and the sun, and oak forests ...

Lev Nikolaevich Zilov (1883 - 1937)

The ability to subtly feel nature, enjoy it, “smell eternity’s deep aroma” is common to many poetic lines and poems by L. N. Zilov. At the end of his life, in the poem “A Man Must Be Happy” (1936), the poet expressed his credo:

… Happiness is air, light, water!
You forcibly tore them apart,
But they are one forever.
Happiness is people, animals, birds,
Every moment released by fate!
Just to have time to peer into the faces,
Passing in front of you...

Perhaps under these lines, a younger contemporary of L. N. Zilov, his countryman Sergei Antonovich Klychkov, could also sign. Under unusual circumstances, the poet was born:

There was a valley above the river,
In the dense forest near the village,
In the evening, picking raspberries,
On it my mother gave birth to me ...

In the forest silence and majesty
I was swaddled by twilight,
The singing of birds lulled,
Running stream under the ravine…

On ripe berries and hops,
Eyes wide open
I listened to how the fir-trees were noisy,
As the clouds closed the storm ...

... Ah, right, that's why I'm wild,
That's why my songs -
Like a body of wild strawberries
Between berries with a needle of needles.
<1912,1918>

Sergei Antonovich Klychkov (1889 - 1937)

It is also symbolic and providential that S. A. Klychkov was born in the year 1889, in the year of the 90th anniversary of the birth of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin and in the year of the death of our fellow countryman, satirist writer M. E. Saltykov-shchedrin, after 70 days after his death, the Tver and Taldom lands, as if not suffering such a void, gave us another genius defender-man of the Russian peasantry. And in the homeland of M. E. Saltykov-Shchedrin in the village of Spas-Ugol in the Church of the Transfiguration of the Savior, where the writer was baptized, in the same year the painting of the temple is done and the “autograph” of the painter remains: “Wrote A. M. Strelnikov, 1889 year". Among other frescoes, Saints Equal-to-the-Apostles Cyril and Methodius, teachers of Slovenia, revered for the feat of Christian enlightenment among the Slavic peoples, are depicted almost full-length. In the jubilee year of Shchedrin - the 175th anniversary of the birth of September 16, 2001, a miracle took place in the renewal of almost all the surviving frescoes and icons, starting from the Nativity of Christ and the Nativity of the Most Holy Theotokos ...

However, let's go back to the past. It is also providential that Klychkov was born exactly 9 months after the crash of the Tsar's train, when Emperor Alexander and his family miraculously survived, including the future Emperor Nicholas II, who would still be overtaken by evil fate in 1918 ... The Bolsheviks would shoot him with the whole family on July 17 - on the birthday of S. A. Klychkov, on the eve of the day of finding the holy relics of St. Sergius of Radonezh. They repress the poet himself and “put him out” for consumption in 19 years - in the year of the 100th anniversary of Pushkin's death in the nightmarish 1937 on October 8, on the day of memory of the poet's spiritual patron, St. Sergius of Radonezh. And since the poet was born on the eve of the summer Sergius day, then he was named Sergius, which in Latin means “highly venerated”. Only in 2000 it became known that the ashes of the poet rested in the cemetery at the Donskoy Monastery in Moscow in a common grave No. 1, where unclaimed ashes were buried. Now there is a monument with the inscription: “The remains of innocently tortured and executed victims are buried here. political repression 1930 - 1942. Eternal memory to them! Nearby, their relatives installed tablets with the data of the dead, among which the name of Sergei Antonovich Klychkov appears on a golden background. "O golden bird - song!" - prophetically said the poet ...

S. Klychkov was released only 48 years of earthly life ... During this time, Sergey Antonovich managed to give birth "from a star" to such wonderful images and put together such "crystal" songs and enchanting prose that his native village of Dubrovki became famous for centuries, sung by him in prose and verses:

"In the crimson fire of the aspen
Birches in golden heat...
But the sides of his moose
I don't know for the first time...
The former village of Dubrovka,
Father's farm, palisade,
Behind the palisade, as in new clothes,
In the fall, the garden dressed up ... "

The village of Dubrovka is already 332 years old. It was first mentioned (together with Taldom, Vysochki, Grishkovo, etc.) in Kashinskaya census book in 1677, as owned by Archbishop Simeon.
According to legend, the village of Dubrovka was founded by the Old Believers - immigrants from Siberia, who decided to hide from the persecution of the authorities among the local swamps. By the beginning of the 20th century, there were five Old Believer families of the "Austrian persuasion" or Belokrinitsky consent in the Village, bearing the names of the Klychkovs, Kablukovs, Golubkovs - their descendants live in our area to this day and together with the Morkovkins, they are mentioned in S. Klychkov's novel "Sugar German".
Klychkov lived in Dubrovki constantly from birth until 1900 and before the First World War, and then more often visited (until 1929). Here, in the small room, lovingly called by him "dovecote" (earlier there could be an Old Believer chapel, as evidenced by its architecture), Sergei Antonovich created most of his works.
In his autobiography of 1926, the poet noted: “I owe my language to the forest grandmother Avdotya (a famous songwriter, without which not a single wedding could do), the eloquent mother Fyokla Alekseevna and father Anton Nikitich, often wise in his tongue-tied constructions, and most of all to our field for outskirts and Chertukhinsky forest ... "The poem" childhood "is about this:

“I remember, I remember the dense forest,
Under the bare foot of the moss,
At the porch, a thundering stream
In the branches of a dormant alder ...

I remember: the owls screamed,
I went out into the dark forest
God strict in sorrow
He prayed for the impossible.

Wild, gloomy, in a smoky hut,
I'm alone, like in a fairy tale, I grew up,
Outside the window stood rati
Old pines and birches ... "

Soon, "while still studying at a rural school (the village of Taldoma), I began to write poems ...". Then, from 1900, Moscow, studies at the Fidler School, the revolutionary events of 1905, participation in an armed uprising along with the famous sculptor S.T. Konenkov, communication with the Taldom revolutionaries entered the poet's biography.
This, apparently, gave impetus to an attempt to comprehend what was happening, which resulted in poems, first published in 1906 in the journal of Moscow University "At the Crossroads" (No. 4, the poem "The Man Got Up", No. and other publications). The poem "The Man Got Up" was published on one page along with poems by the famous Taldom poet-nugget, member of the Taldom cell of the RSDLP (b) Ivan Ivanovich Orlov-Publican (1880 - 1916) - now one of the streets of the city bears his name.
Klychkov helped to take his first steps into literature famous writers I. Bunin, V. Veresaev, philanthropist and librettist M. I. Tchaikovsky. In 1908, S. Klychkov entered the Imperial Moscow University, where he studied on the same course with B. Pasternak, was friends with S. Solovyov, P. Zhurov (1885-1987) (later a well-known literary critic who studied the work of A. Blok, S. Klychkov and others) visits the workshop of K. Kracht, meets Elissa, N. Klyuev, S. Gorodetsky, M. Gorky, A. Lunacharsky, M. Tsvetaeva, S. Yesenin, D. Semenovsky, B. Sadovsky and others, travels across Italy.

At the end of 1910, the first book of S. Klychkov "Songs" (Alcyone Publishing House, Moscow) was published, soon the second book - "The Secret Garden" (1913) was published there. In total, the author published eight poetry collections (“Bova”, “Dubravna” - 1918, “Ring of Lada” - 1919, “Wonderful Guest”, “Home Songs” - 1923, “Talisman” - 1927, “Visiting at the cranes" - 1930).

In the 1920s, three novels from the life of the Russian peasantry appeared (from the conceived nine-book under the general title "Belly and Death": "Sugar German" (1925), a variant - "The Last Lel" (1927), "Chertukhinsky Balakir" (1926), "Prince of Peace" ("Dark Root") - 1927, as well as chapters from the novel "The Gray Master" ("Sold Sin" or "Moose with Golden Horns"). A number of polemical articles are published.

Since the beginning of the 1930s, translations and free adaptations have been published from the Vogul "Madur-Vaza - the winner", Kyrgyz (the epic "Manas"), Georgian and Bashkir poets, partially included in the book of translations "Saraspan" (1935), a number of polemical articles . The play “The Good Kingdom”, the novel and poem “The Peacock of Kitezh”, the collection of poems “The Beggar Table”, the translation of “Protopope Avvakum”, a collection of works in five volumes were being prepared for publication.

V. Bryusov, S. Gorodetsky, M. Voloshin, G. Ivanov, L. Stolitsa and Vyach left their reviews about Klychkov and his extraordinary personality. Polonsky, who wrote: “A charming and gentle poet. He has an impeccable rhyme, a melodious lightness of verse, an unconstrained songlikeness of meters.
Later they were joined by A. Blok (“It is easy for you to sing ...”), N. Gumilyov, S. Yesenin, N. Pavlovich, A. Akhmatova, V. Voronsky, M. Prishvin, M. Gorky and others. Many poets dedicated S Klychkov his poems: S. Gorodetsky, N. Klyuev, O. Mandelstam, P. Vasiliev and our contemporaries A. Ionkin, N. Sidorina, I. Alekseeva, E. Evtushenko.
S. A. Klychkov was called a new peasant, new Christian poet, a successor to Pushkin's traditions in Russian literature. His poetry was compared with the poetry of Tyutchev and Fet, prose - with Melnikov-Pechersky, Zlatovratsky (little Shchedrin), Leskov.
His reverent attitude to nature, its spiritualization was reflected in the piercing "painfully heartfelt" lines:

I can't sleep before leaving
The poplar at the windows does not sleep either:
For a long time he read everything by the stars,
What does he not know?

Roo runs in the garden salka,
And the leaves fall from the aspens
And the clouds are rolling
From memory to memory.

... I'm not alive about bread alone
And with a light heart I would lie down
Under the bush, when my lot would go,
My peaceful lot for the future!

But I know: with such love
…..??? crouching to the outskirts,
Will not collect in a purse
Traces of a mermaid from herbs!

* * *

Oh if you knew the word
What is stored under the moon in the night
From antiquity gray owls,
From the century wise owls ...

In the eyes - distant lands,
In my hands is a birch.
Birds land on me
And the beast is my brother and namesake ...

“The most solemn, most beautiful holiday under socialism will be the holiday of ... tree planting! Holiday of Love and Labor! Love for the beast, bird and ... man!
If we have forgotten how, then nature itself will teach us how to protect it and love it, because it is difficult for it to lie, and it is criminal to rob, just like in art! (from the article by S. Klychkov "Northern Ailment", published in the "Literary Gazette" on April 21, 1930).
In the work of S. Klychkov, not only pictures of native nature come to life, but also fabulous folk images: mermaids, goblin Antyutik:

“The old goblin stood up in the ravine,
Bumps come to life, stumps ...
Out of his eyes his lights
Falling down the ravine…”
<1912 – 1913 гг.>

The Firebird that lives in the garden and the “Golden Nests” of the forest and water princess Dubravna:

“Oakwood is coming, and after her,
Crowns flying cranes
Green under her feet
Glades, valleys lay down ... "

“Is it boring, it’s fun for Dubrovna
Living in a light above the river -
To her no one in the carved shutters
In the night he will not hit with a stick ”;

As well as the earthly beauty Lada, to whom the whole cycle "Lada's ring" is dedicated:

“Lubo Lada is white-faced:
Ducks in a noisy village
And crowns of cranes
Over the scattered wheat
Swept by the Earth!
Flew with a cry for the forest,
As if saying goodbye to Lada ... "

Klychkov's books were not published for half a century. But thanks to the asceticism of his fellow countrymen, the help of the local and regional administrations, the book lovers society, the RChTU im. D, I. Mendeleev, a number of publishing houses, the writer's relatives, all our volunteer assistants and donors On July 19, 1992, on the day of the celebration of the Cathedral of the Saints of Radonezh and Tver, in the year of the 600th anniversary of St. Sergius of Radonezh, the House of the Poet, the House of Museum of S. A. Klychkov.
In its exposition - autographs and books of the poet - "Kitezh peacock", the work of famous sculptors S. Vecher, N. Vysheslavtsev, V. Evdokimov, N. I. Kalita, B. Krylov, G. Levitskaya, I. Markelova, I. Radimov , G. Sorokina, S. Kharlamov, I. Shavenzov, a copy of the work of the sculptor Abalakov, made by M. Delov, the work of local authors A. Simonov, N. Gerasimov and others.
A lot of work remains to be done to revive the Klychkovs' artisanal and peasant estate - the Dubravna farm (or Soldier's Strength ??), beloved by the poet, with an apiary and an apple orchard, surrounded by lilac bushes.

According to the recommendations of the Russian Research Institute of Cultural and Natural Heritage. D. S. Likhachev, it is necessary to create a museum-reserve or reserve. Enthusiasts dream of building a chapel in the name of St. Sergius of Radonezh in memory of those who died during the years of repression, and nearby, in a grove, a meadow of Fairy Tales.

And here is a film about S. Klychkov, which was broadcast on the Culture channel

"I love these poor piits" (D. Samoilov)
And how can I not love them? -
So much wisdom is hidden in their words,
Their poems help me to live.

Sad or happy, outraged or in love, walking down the street or walking in nature, painting my lips, preparing dinner, and you can always remember the lines of poems that you read earlier about this situation. And you think: "Are you
not the only one! There are many of us, the same - thinking about the same, excited about the same, admiring or dissatisfied with something in the same way. "And it becomes easier in trouble, more cheerful in joy, more interesting in knowledge and generally better, brighter at heart.
After all, poets always reflected in verse the reality of their time, pleasant or unpleasant both for them and for the people around them, with their daily household life or work activities.
I get up at dawn, I go to bed at sunset
All day long I'm spinning like a squirrel.
They give me according to work, I give according to salary,
And again I get up and go to bed.
Yu.Kim
And we are still waiting for wonderful changes,
Some conversations in someone's dacha,
As if good luck
Grievances pass in return.
Y. Vizbor
And about love, about the relationship between a man and a woman, poetry itself speaks, carrying bright,
pure feelings, cultivating admiration, tenderness, beauty of relationships, fidelity of two loving hearts.
When everything was a holiday and new -
A smile, a gesture, a touch, a look...
Ah, the ocean called love,
Don't back down, come back, come back!
Yu.Drunina
Love is the miracle of miracles!
What is our life, sorry, without
Shining miracle?!
But this is not from here.
E. Klyachkin
And, of course, the theme of poets' love for the motherland, home, the land where they were born
and grew up, to the unique Russian nature, with its meadows and fields, mountains and forests, lakes and rivers,
and of course - birches.
My Russia, I love your birches!
From the first years I lived and grew up with them,
That's why tears come
Into eyes weary of tears...
N.Rubtsov
Walking along the narrow path,
I repeat - once again! -
“It’s good that with a Russian soul
And she was born on Russian soil!”
Yu.Drunina
The poet is serious, responsible, irreconcilable to the negative manifestations of society, such as bureaucracy, hypocrisy, greed on the part of those in power, theft. And at the same time, the poet worries about the life of the common people, sometimes unsettled in everyday life, unsuccessful in personal terms.
And along the highway, to Kaluga and Luga,
In country kingdoms, in state comfort,
People's servants rush in cars,
They rush - and throw mud at the people!
A. Galich
It is impossible to always be indignant, worry, worry, be sad in our so many-sided life.
And then there is nothing left but to treat everything with humor, and this makes life easier and more fun.
Fate tortured, shaved bald,
And you lived beyond all strength, -
The face laughed, the song cried,
The people threw up their hands.
I. Lisnyanskaya
Hit on the pocket, - does not ring.
He knocked on another - not to hear.
Into your quiet only zenith
Flew thoughts to rest.
N.Rubtsov
I will plunge into plasticine thoughts
And I lie all day
I am in a state of sculpture -
Too lazy to move.
I. Talkov
Poetry excites, impresses, pleases, excites, people whose spiritual values ​​are higher than material ones, helps to recognize the culture of past generations, develop their consciousness, live interestingly, and therefore not in vain ...
Marianna Lebedeva

The beginning of reflections on the purpose of poetry and the role of the poet in society -
"My Russian verse, living word" -
"Love poetry, friends!" -
What poems were written in the early 60s (article from the Internet) -
http://lenta.ru/columns/2017/03/03/aizenberg4/

Reviews

Good morning Marianne!
An excellent selection of poems about the appointment of the poet and poetry! Not everyone is interested in poetry these days. There is more pragmatism in people than romanticism. All poets are romantics! Their task is to excite, to excite the reader, to make him think about existence, about life, about the destiny of man.
All the best to you and new creative success!
With respect and warmth,