State Treasury educational institution Krasnodar Territory"Novoleushkovskaya boarding school with vocational training»
Literature lesson
"Cossack poet of Russia"
(Life and work of I.F. Barabbas)
The work of a teacher of Russian language and literature
Starkova Natalia Alekseevna
The purpose of the lesson: acquaintance with the life and work of I. F. Barabbas
Lesson objectives:
educational:
to expand students' understanding of the work of I. F. Barabbas;
to teach the emotional perception of a poetic work;
developing:
develop oral speech students to enrich their vocabulary;
improve the culture of speech;
educational:
cultivate love for the native land;
contribute to the aesthetic education of schoolchildren through works of art, music, painting.
Equipment:
interactive board;
projector, laptop;
presentation;
collections of poems by I. F. Barabbas;
poet's book exhibition
During the classes.
Organizing time
Lesson topic message
Today in the lesson we will get acquainted with the life and work of our fellow countryman, from whose poems the tart smell of grasses and the steppe, the skin of the harness of Cossack horses and hot lead emanates, big love to life. His poetry is colored by the reflection of dawns and evening sunsets, which are so beautiful in the Kuban. It will be aboutIvan Fedorovich Varavva – Cossack poet of Russia.
Studying the topic of the lesson
Ivan Varavva was born on February 5, 1925 in the hut of the Rakov settlement on the Novobataysky farm near Rostov. His ancestors, registered Cossacks, moved to the Kuban from the Zaporozhian Sich. The noble Colonel Varavva commanded the rowing flotilla of the Cossacks, which sailed around the Kuban. The Illuminator Barabbas received a royal gold nominal watch for his service. Grandfather of Ivan Varavva, Nikita Savelievich, in the past a Cossack of the Second Zaporizhzhya Regiment of the Kuban Cossack army, worked hard, got a good economy, for which he was dispossessed during the period of collectivization. The farm was confiscated, grandfather was exiled to Solovki.
Students act out the scene
A man and a woman are standing on the road. A woman holds a child in her arms.
The male:
All our large family scattered around the Don and the North Caucasus in search of bread, work and a quiet life.
Woman (with anxiety):
Where are we going? Where will our children grow up?
The male:
We will not stay on the Don. We will go to our origins -to the Kuban!
They stopped in the village of Starominskaya. Here, on the banks of the quiet river Soshka, the childhood and youth of the future poet passed. Here he began to write his first poems, received his first diploma. Like many peers, Ivan was a romantic, a dreamer. But the war broke out. The country responded to German aggression with popular resistance. Young Barabbas did not stand aside either. He rushed to the front. In 1942, when the front line approached the Kuban, enemy planes flew over the village, the rumble of artillery guns was heard, a seventeen-year-old volunteer boy was enlisted as a Red Army soldier.
Don't be sad, dear, we'll be back soon,
It does not matter that the warrior is eighteen years old.
Dusty path, Motherland expanses,
Exploded dawn with weapon thunder!
Yesterday's schoolchildren had no idea what they would have to endure during these days, months, years ... Did they think, waving farewell to crying mothers, that many of them would never see this dear face, the earing grain field on the horizon, feel the gentle breath of the southern wind, inhale the smells of their native land?
Student reads a poem by I. Barabbas "Over the quiet Elbe"
Above the quiet Elbe
The fire burned out
Above the quiet Elbe
The Cossack was dying.
poor boy,
Cossack young -
In dense wheat
Head down...
He cast an eye
wind space,
And that Elba became
Kuban Laba.
(Trouble - smart, bold
Barabbas went a difficult way from the first village recaptured from the Nazis to Berlin. Fights, campaigns and transitions, wounds, death of friends…. Many tests fell on the lot of the young soldier.
Guys, why do you think Ivan Barabbas survived the war? What helped him survive?
The thought of his native land, love for it helped Ivan to survive.
Ivan Barabbas fought bravely. During the breakthrough of the enemy Blue Line in the Kuban in 1943, in the area of heights near the village of Krymskaya, the commander of the front, General Petrov, who observed the reconnaissance in force through binoculars, personally presented all those who distinguished themselves with high government awards. Among these brave fighters was a very young Red Army soldier from the Cossack village Ivan Varavva.
The day is burning, dragonflies ringing.
I am the lord of metal and fire.
Fire... Into me!
Since 1943, the poems of Barabbas began to appear regularly in the army press. All of them were imbued with a single mood - the will to win.
War is not only fighting and attacks, death and injury. War is also the daily life of a fighter, it is a strong soldier's friendship and, of course, love.
It's a pity to part with a sweetheart,
Heart toils in the chest.
Ivan knew how much grief, pain and misfortune the war brought to almost every family. Mothers, wives, sisters of soldiers who remained in the rear to wait for their relatives endured a lot of anxiety and suffering.
Student
reads a poem by I. Barabbas "On the outskirts of the village"
On the outskirts of the village
With a white head
The mother was waiting for her son from the war
And petrified.
Arrived in the village of the steppe
Gray-winged falcon.
Maples fought with their heads
Oh, the granite is tall.
The feather grass rolled down
From the sadness of a sailor.
Quiet from stone eyelashes
Tears rolled down.
And from the memory depths
A sigh came from my mother.
The son touched the stone -
The gray stone came to life.
On the outskirts of the village
With a white head
The mother was waiting for her son from the war
And petrified.
Without noticing it, Ivan Varavva becomes a soldier's poet.
In 1948, an event occurred in the life of I. Barabbas that determined for many years creative way. In Kyiv, he met with A. Tvardovsky, the author of the book "About a Fighter". Later, Barabbas enters the Literary Institute. In 1954, the first book of poetry was published. The author called it "Wind from the Kuban".I. Barabbas was offered a job in Moscow, but he returned to his native village.
All that is alive, that I know and know,
What I got in the campaign and in battle -
To my fatherland
I give as a good inheritance.
Today, the famous Kuban poet, front-line soldier Ivan Fedorovich Varavva celebrates his 80th birthday.
A participant in the defense of the "Blue Line" near Krymsk, eighteen-year-old Ivan Varavva was presented to the Order of the Red Star by the front commander, General Petrov. After the war, he was blessed by the wonderful poet Alexander Tvardovsky into great literature.
A great connoisseur of Kuban folklore, Ivan Fedorovich is the author of about thirty books of poetry, including "Wind from the Kuban", "Cossack Territory", "The Kubanushka River Runs" and, of course, "Cossack Kobzar", which includes more than four hundred lyrical works and poetic folk comedy "Good house, but trouble in it."
The poems of Ivan Barabbas have been published in our newspaper for half a century now. At one time he even worked in the "Soviet Kuban" - the predecessor of the "Free Kuban".
We congratulate Ivan Fedorovich on a wonderful anniversary, we wish him good health and new works about his native Kuban.
To your attention, dear readers, we offer a selection of his poems.
I will ride to the hills of Tsaregrad -
In the battle of epic tales and dreams,
From Taman...
From sea to sea -
Stitch trembles under the hooves.
An ancient idol, in a robber's gaze,
Tells me fate from the mound.
I'll walk through the Zapolny lands,
I'll spill enough beer and honey.
Over the Kuban with a reed roof -
I'll ruin my horse and myself! ..
To the horizon with a aimed peak,
Drunk from feather grass freedom -
Forgotten, lost, wild,
I will fall headlong into the mound.
Wolf shadows will dance, groan
Among grasses and dry life.
Not touched by their gray flock
Remove the head of oblivion ...
Before the idol I will become a stone
And I bow to him in the wind
For the fires of the Cossack camp,
For my ataman Russia.
magic stone
(Cossack story)
Danilo served at the cordon,
Silent, quiet bachelor.
And there was one good thing about it:
From nature, devout Cossack!
His horse, hot red color,
This Cossack was lucky
Survives marching misfortunes,
Good for Ataman under the saddle!
Damascus rare forging saber:
If you want, rot it back and forth.
Steel is not steel
What the hell is...
In a nutshell - a good gourda!
Her smooth surface is entwined with letters,
And on the bone handle -
Asterisk with sparkling edges
In the middle - a stone with greenery.
A horse and a saber is a rare art...
The stone in it pours magical fire -
Lapel from drunkenness and debauchery
And from the strength of the enemy withdrawal.
Hey Danilo! Where are you this stone
Got it, unclean hand?
- Accidentally traded for the Kuban
At Aisa, an abrek-kunak.
Feathers lie under the hooves,
The winds sing free songs.
The steppe, that the tablecloth is flat, is open -
The Cossacks give chase.
You won't take it!.. Don't try in vain...
- You won't leave now, motherfucker!
Behind the mounds are nimble Nogais
They began to give up in a frenzied race.
Closer, closer beveled faces,
Although the horses are just as good.
Fox-trimmed hats
Curved bows and knives.
Like kites in a whirlwind, larynx,
Horses are whipped with whips:
Then they will scatter their run over the Kuban,
Then they will gather back into the flock.
Here they threw prey at their feet, -
Life is dear to the villain!
Seagulls are swarming over the shore,
Whitewashing the wings of the shore.
You won't leave, you insidious brat! -
Danilo jumped ahead.
Threw away the harness reins,
Takes five saber.
The steppe sings... Silver checkers
Threw out a narrow scabbard.
Danila has the best go-ahead -
If you want, rot it back and forth!
I chose a stately Nogai in the boom:
He knocked off his hat, grabbed it by the floor.
The checker squealed subtly, plaiting,
And the blow - on the takeaway froze.
Did you give mahu? .. - Who cares!
Turned to the side...
She meekly looked into her eyes -
It turned out ... the woman is young!
The Cossacks went to the village,
A feather grass rustled across the steppe.
Something like this should happen:
Save someone else's life stone!
Oh, Danilo, pitiful Danilo!..
It seems to be a tested Cossack.
There is in the bone both courage and strength -
I don't have them in downcast eyes.
The Cossacks entered the village ...
Grandfather Nikita
(in memory of my grandfather Nikita Savelyevich Barabbas)
Here, in this overgrown cemetery,
My grandfather is buried a long time ago.
The wind ripples sadly across the steppe
From the day of the funeral.
Free Cossack, marked in the forms, -
Went to big things.
Life beckoned like a vile woman
And voluntarily passed.
Hunger, collective farm, zavirukha Civil
Yes, the Solovki Islands! ..
Terek and Don, and the Kuban valley
Were, like Mars, far away.
Godless cold, crackling frosts,
And at the bottom - heat,
- Hey you, rattling kulak seed,
- Coal come on-mountain! ..
There was a prisoner in the crush of timber industry,
The Cossack fell ill with his chest,
But he did not lose his freedom of thoughts:
Gathered strength into a fist.
Either he fled, under a jagged thorn
Throwing off the dungeon thief,
Or released by guards bribed
To die in the grain land? ..
Not emptying the sums of the prisoner,
The old one got out of hand
And, dying, soaked watermelon
In his hut he asked.
Grandfather was buried in a Christian way,
Quietly demolished to the grave,
Missed his "pharaohs"
AT northern ice Solovki.
I was calm, I was calm
He was hoisted into his chamber.
Where the chubar horses were unchained,
Where is his mound?..
Where is his cross, with the steepness of a cemetery,
Century-hewn cross?
Russia walks with a beggarly knapsack,
Looks for skins around.
Boyana's song
Resurrect, Boyan, and come to us from ancient centuries,
On the sonorous harp you put your thought! ..
Wrapped the hut with foliage grape lashes,
And the bird over the roof is tired of counting turns...
Our prophetic Boyan! You have been glorified since ancient times among the people,
Talan has not lost, crushing the strings of centuries.
And the sun rises, and again behind the darkness / sets;
And the fields turn yellow, and the rivers flow without you...
Play me, Boyan, forgotten ancient songs -
Sad songs, wedding calls of the earth.
Still in the Zapolye, still in the distant Polissya
Dawns are not painted, azure flowers did not bloom.
Immortal Boyan! Make me a battle melody
Where horses are saddled by squads, leaders and princes.
Let the Slavs sow their gold-bearing life,
And we can't stay in the grain fields with you.
Hey, you Russians, seat the harp at the table,
Pour a healthy cup of wine for Boyan;
And time will move a little in a bluish infusion,
Slavic song boundless to be born! ..
The Cossack steppe buried the sadness of Boyan,
And the seagull hovers, and the falcon circles over the field.
Who can tell in which reserved mound
Boyan's chain mail lies on a ringing harp?!
Ataman Rus
Before the idol I will become a stone
And I will bow to him in jura -
For the fires of the Cossack camp,
For my ataman Russia.
I will pray to the boundless field,
I bow to my great-great-grandfather
What was able for the Cossack will
In the Wild Field, bend the bowstring.
I will sit on a wind-maned horse,
Beating flint from horseshoes...
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Singer of the Kuban land / Memory of I.F. Barabbas/.
Surprisingly beautiful and original is our native land - Kuban. It's tight
intertwined customs of ancestors and modernity, the memory of the past and the aspiration
into the future, the originality and commonality of the peoples living here.
All this diversity is present in the work of the Kuban poet - Ivan
Fedorovich Varavva. For him, the Motherland is the most sacred thing in life, the meaning of
existence. The poet puts so much warmth into the lines about his native side,
love, finds such vivid epithets that it is impossible not to respond to them:
Oh Motherland! My love is big.
You are a light breeze in the Cossack steppe,
Brightly scorched by the midday sun,
And you are a ripe ear, and a falcon's wing,
Thoughtful yellow chamomile,
A transparent spring from the depths of the underground ...
He is proud that he grew up on this earth, absorbed its life-giving
juices, became her loving son:
A familiar world in an open window,
And it has gardens and windmills.
Eminent with hereditary glory
My Kubans are steppes.
I dream of white poplars
Cossack chicken in the wind.
Here I was born in the Wild Field, -
I will never stop loving him.
Poetry I.F. Barabbas combined the breath of different eras and peoples, transforming
waving them into a special fusion of past and present:
From Taman...
From sea to sea
Stitch trembles under the hooves.
An ancient idol in a robber's gaze
Tells me fate from the mound ...
I will stand before the stone idol
And I will bow to him in the wind -
For the fires of the Cossack camp,
For my ataman Russia.
The world of nature in his poems is many-sided and spiritualized. Grasses, rivers, earth-
la, sky, birds and animals live a special life, which the poet helps to see
children and understand.
Blooms in the garden
Curly thin cherry,
showering with silver
Spring awakened edge,
Because the moon
I went for a walk over the station,
Because Natasha
The eighteenth of May has gone.
Nature vividly reflects the mood of people, changes its character depending on
from what is happening. Before the battle, the sky is unkind, the sun sways blindly,
Ghana are sad, horses are neighing. A girl goes out on a date with a sweet girl, and the garden wakes up, opens the arms of the ear, weeping winds stroke her shoulders, the songwriter worries -
nightingale. The poet responds admiringly to the change of seasons, sad and happy,
he is surprised and tries to leave in his heart what he saw forever. Reading his poems:
“The poplar is leaning”, “I love this autumn”, “Bonfire”, “Krasnodar spring”,
“Septembers, mother, Septembers”, and you vividly imagine the corners dear to your heart
and love your fatherland even more.
I.F. Barabbas loves people. His generous heart is open to family and
friends, acquaintances and strangers. He created many poetic images
countrymen. Among them are daring Cossacks, fellow soldiers, mischievous guys,
beautiful girls, wise or grumpy old men. Many and with a special
he writes with warmth about mothers, consulting, asking for help, expressing the words
filial devotion and gratitude. Each of his heroes is a figure of a calo-
ritual and truly Kuban in spirit. A vivid example of this is the comedy "Embarrassment
at the fair." Kurennoy Ataman Kondrat Shulga and the Trans-Kuban Prince Kazbek
Sheretluk, Cossack foreman Pidpalius, Yavdokha Vertiyubka, Marusya, Ivan
Konogray - each has absorbed the features characteristic of our ancestors.
This is courage, and kindness, and endurance, cunning and recklessness,
stubbornness, humor and cordiality. The poet describes his front-line friends in a completely different way. The memory of them - the living and the fallen - is bright and disturbing. He shows
them not by superhumans, for whom defeating the enemy is a common thing, but by the most
ordinary, but accomplished a great feat, the name of which is Victory.
I'm still trusting and holy
I cherish the forgetful memory:
Thank you good guys
For loyalty to bread, gunpowder, bayonet.
For the fortress of friendship -
righteous soldier,
Dry cigarette warming smoke.
In the night steppe
Shot, chumatskoy,
Without you, I could not breathe and live
And when the poet talks about himself in the hard times of war, and when he talks about others, one feels the sadness of loss, the cry of the soul that was not expressed to the end. In a poem
"Oksana" is about a girl who returned from the war. She walked thousands of kilometers along frontline roads, lived until daylight hours - she returned to her home.
Oksana stands at the mirror and is surprised:
Is it really me?
Not knocked down by a bullet, healthy,
Not buried in a ditch over a river?
And when the mother wants to throw away her old one, in holes. overcoat, girl, bitterly
crying, presses her to him, because she is a silent witness of loss and joy
Victory.
Ivan Fedorovich Varavva is a truly national poet. His creativity -
continuation and development of the traditions of the Kuban folklore. He gave a lot of strength
collection and study of oral folk art. His collections:
"Cossack bandura", "Songs of the Cossacks of the Kuban", "Father's hut", "Cossack
way", "Flowers and Stars" have absorbed a unique flavor, give
the reader the music of the words.
All the work of the poet and thematic orientation, and the elements
epic-song sound is inextricably linked with legends and true stories. It
inseparable from the peculiar spiritual culture of the Kuban.
Comprehending the truth of life, he tries to find the truth and express it with burning lines. The poet believes that he will live and prosper forever
the Cossack land is a thief, and this confidence is given by the whole history of the small Motherland:
Native land!
Your gardens and fields
Chains of mountains, gray distance of the seas, -
Would you. And we will be alive
generosity
And your joy.
Page:
Varavva Ivan Fedorovich - Kuban poet, laureate of literary awards, honorable Sir Krasnodar.
Ivan Fedorovich Varavva was born on February 5, 1925 in the Novobataisky farm of the Samara district of the Rostov region in a family of immigrants from the Kuban. Since 1932 he lived in Krasnodar Territory. His ancestors were registered Cossacks in the Zaporozhian Sich, brave pioneers of the Black Sea coast. From the school bench as a seventeen-year-old boy, he goes to the front to defend native land from the Nazi invaders. He was wounded and seriously shell-shocked, but he reached Berlin as a winner. In 1942, his first poems appeared in the army press. Famous masters Alexander Tvardovsky and Vladimir Sosyura drew attention to the work of the beginning poet, who became his first teachers and mentors. at the Moscow Literary Institute. M. Gorky, the young poet also became friends with the folklorist V.M. Sidelnikov, who fascinated him for the rest of his life by collecting folk songs.
The Kuban was and remains both in life and in my poetry the only native land. Everything bright, joyful and great, and that tragic, difficult and harsh that was in my fate, I take for granted and give to the altar of poetry. Native Kuban with its natural beauty, strength and ancient history is little sung in literary works. With my song, I was lucky to be next to the first Cossack "bandurists" of the Kuban. For which I am grateful to fate.
Varavva Ivan Fyodorovich
In 1950 I.F. Barabbas graduated from the literary institute and returned to the Kuban, to the old Cossack village of Starominskaya. A year later, his first book of lyrics "Wind from the Kuban" was published. One after another, the collections “At the old cordons”, “Kuban summer”, “Stars in poplars”, “The girl and the sun”, “Golden bandura” and many others are published. Already in the first books, the influence on the work of I.F. Barabbas of the folk song that exists in the Kuban on the basis of the Russian and Ukrainian languages. Having become a journalist for a regional newspaper, he significantly expands his poetic geography, getting acquainted with the life of fellow countrymen in the most remote corners of the Cossack land. Studying at the Higher Script Courses in Moscow brings him closer to the outstanding Ukrainian director and screenwriter A.P. Dovzhenko. New books: "Fire of the Adonis", "Song of the Guide", "Cossack Way", "Falcon Steppe" - secure for him the glory of an unsurpassed singer of native feather grass expanses, a broad Cossack soul.
A milestone in the work of Ivan Fedorovich was the folklore collection “Songs of the Cossacks of the Kuban”, published by the Krasnodar book publishing house in 1966. For the fact that the poet dared to include the Ukrainian national anthem “Ukraine has not died yet ...”, which existed in the Kuban as a popular folk song, the authorities subjected him to harsh criticism. But the poet continues to work on the popularization of the folk word, after some time publishing an extensive collection of translations and poetic arrangements into Russian of the Black Sea (Ukrainian) folk songs "Cossack Bandura". The poet is increasingly creating his new works in the Black Sea dialect Ukrainian language, especially when referring to the Cossack antiquity. The largest of them is the comedy "A good house - but trouble in it", staged by the Krasnodar State Academic Drama Theater named after M. Gorky for the 70th anniversary of I.F. Varavva. This comedy, as well as lyrics written in the Old Kuban dialect, is included in the collection of his best selected works "Cossack Kobzar" (1997).
Music to texts by I.F. Barabbas wrote dozens of famous and amateur composers, including Alexandrov, Ponomarenko, Plotnichenko, Zakharchenko, Ponomarev, Volchenko. Songs to his words sounded in two feature films, hundreds of times performed by professional and amateur groups.
Ivan Fedorovich Varavva is a laureate of the A. Tvardovsky Literary Prize (1996), several Kuban literary prizes. Honorary citizen of Krasnodar (1995), honorary citizen of the Bulgarian city of Nessebar (1975), honorary collective farmer of the Sopka Geroev collective farm of the Crimean region (1979), people's poet of the Republic of Adygea (2000).
Awarded with orders Patriotic War II and I degrees (1944, 1984), Red Star (1970), "Badge of Honor" (1987), medals "For Courage" (1943), "For the Defense of the Caucasus" (1944), "For the Liberation of Warsaw" (1945) , "535 years Battle of Grunwald"(1945), "For the capture of Berlin" (1945), fifteen anniversary medals, the medal "Hero of Labor of the Kuban" (2005). In the past, he was a Deputy of the regional Council of Workers' Deputies of several convocations.
