Sergei Yesenin - good for autumn freshness. Online reading a book a collection of poems well under the autumn freshness The theme of nature in the work of the great poet

Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin is a great Russian poet, who went down in the history of world literature as a heartfelt and refined author of lyric works. His poetry is imbued with sincerity and spontaneity, these criteria and distinguish the famous poet from other authors.

Yesenin perfectly expressed his feelings, competently choosing each rhyme. Reading his poems, one is transported into the world described by the author, a distinct landscape filled with vibrant colors and harmony becomes noticeable. His work is like a frank conversation with listeners. The poet himself admitted that he writes his lyric works, as if for close friends, putting his whole soul and frankness into his lines.

And at the same time, Yesenin was a deep thinker with complex and sometimes contradictory feelings, pumping passionate notes into his extraordinary lyrics. The Russian author is revered in different countries of the world, and the magnificent poet has gained this glory quite deservedly!

The theme of nature in the work of the great poet

Sergei Yesenin was a great patriot of his homeland, he could not imagine life far from it. His insane love and devotion to the Russian land has always been expressed in creativity, which is why most of the works of this author narrate about the colorful and sometimes foggy landscapes of his native land.

The theme of nature was covered by many lyrical authors, but no one was able to glorify its beauty and unique views, with such enthusiasm and devoted romanticism. Yesenin presents Russian nature in the most original genre. His poems, like a pleasant melody, reveal to the readers the vulnerable soul of natural phenomena, the feelings of which are comparable to human emotions.

Detailed descriptions of landscapes, often found in Yesenin's work, are not an artistic transmission of the visual background. The author described the beauties of nature, passing them through the very soul. Often, childhood memories that remained with the poet forever served as an impetus for the lyrical mood.

The work of Sergei Alexandrovich is recognized by the world community. Hundreds of critics admire his ability to colorfully convey natural motives in a rhymed form. Yesenin, like no one else, was able to revive the Russian nature in the eyes of the reader, to show the natural beauty and uniqueness of the colors, which are especially highlighted in the autumn season ...

Autumn in the work of Yesenin

Each poet idolized his season. Someone was close to winter landscapes, other authors glorified spring streams and the sonorous song of birds. Yesenin gave preference to autumn, it seemed that this season somehow inspired the talented poet in a special way to create another poem, and he was right!

Autumn lyrics have sunk into the soul and the reader. Magnificent rhymes are studied with interest in the school curriculum, even preschool children quickly grasp the melodic lines glorifying the autumn landscapes of their native country.

Autumn, in the poems of Sergei Yesenin, is always mysterious and lyrical, sometimes sad and somewhat pensive. The poet conveys the mood of tired nature with special inspiration, although, for this time of year, the feeling of fatigue, anxiety and some depression is more relevant. It seems that these feelings do not tire the author, but, on the contrary, give unreal strength to create brilliant poems that are loved by the entire world community.

Yesenin, like no one else, managed to describe this wonderful time of the year in a special, sophisticated form. According to his lyrical works, autumn is perceived as a young and tender time, but at the same time wise and purposeful. In this incredible melancholy, different emotions and feelings are intertwined: passionate love and indescribable loneliness, insane joy and bitter disappointment, wonderful mood and inclement melancholy ...

Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin always picked up successful rhymes. His poems about autumn are full of touching and warm words that emphasize the magnificent beauty and harmony of Russian nature.

What is autumn characterized by? Cold air flow, cold breeze, lingering clouds and sudden rain. This time of year prepares nature for winter, which is inexorably approaching its native land. It is not always possible to consider all the beauty of the autumn season, however, it was brilliantly managed by the talented Russian poet of the XX century - Sergei Yesenin!

Well under the autumn freshness

Well under the autumn freshness
Shake off the apple-tree soul
And watch how it cuts over the river
The blue water of the plow sun.

Good to knock out of the body
A nail burning songs.
And in festive white clothes
Wait for the guest to knock.

I learn, I learn with my heart
Protect the color of bird cherry in your eyes,
Only in avarice do feelings warm themselves,
When ribs breaks to leak.

The starry belfry hoots silently,
Every leaf is a candle to dawn.
I will not let anyone into the room,
I will not open the door to anyone.

Foggy weather, golden foliage, rainy romance and the invigorating power of a light autumn breeze are skillfully described by the author, pumping the brightest and most pleasant emotions on the reader. Yesenin superbly depicts every phenomenon that is relevant for a given time.

Describing atmospheric phenomena, the poet chooses a pictorial representation, expressing his observations figuratively. Anthropomorphic and zoomorphic comparisons are clearly visible in the work. In the poetry of another famous author - Alexander Alexandrovich Blok, the wind is presented as an astral, and even a cosmic phenomenon. And in Yesenin's poems, he gains some kind of animation.

In many lyric works of Sergei Alexandrovich, there is an excellent description of the heavenly month and the bewitching moon. The poet masterfully emphasizes its unique shape, excellent silhouette and simply stunning light "thin lemon" or "moon blue".

According to critics, detailed descriptions of the moon bring special romance and elegiac motives to the poems of the great Russian author. But the rhymes about the picturesque month are compared with folklore, because this heavenly body appears in Yesenin's work as a glorious character from a good fairy tale.

Yesenin touched upon various elements of the surrounding nature in autumn poetry: a picturesque Russian forest, beautiful trees in golden outfits, animals preparing for hibernation and other equally important and fairly natural images. His autumn poetry is impressive and inspiring!

The foliage is golden

The foliage is golden
In the pinkish water on the pond
Like a flock of butterflies
With a daze flies to the star.

I'm in love tonight tonight
The yellowing valley is close to the heart.
Boy-wind to the very shoulders
He pounded the hem on a birch tree.

And in the soul and in the valley there is coolness,
Blue dusk like a flock of sheep
Behind the gate of the silent garden
The bell will ring and freeze.

I've never been frugal
So did not listen to intelligent flesh,
It would be nice, like willow branches,
To tip over into the pinkness of the waters.

It would be nice, smiling at the haystack,
Chew hay with the muzzle of the month ...
Where are you, where, my quiet joy,
Loving everything, wanting nothing?

Analysis of the poem "Leaves are falling, leaves are falling ..."

The poem "Leaves are Falling, Leaves are Falling" was written by the author in late summer, in 1925. During this period, Yesenin was going through a difficult crisis of his personal life, which was clearly reflected in the written lyric work. Reading the lines of this verse, the author's total fatigue, his confusion in relation to himself and those around him, is morally felt.

The semantic plan of the work is based on the transfer of emotional experiences, Sergei Yesenin boldly declares his regrets associated with the lost youth. He seems to be trying to sum up his own life ...

In his rhymes, a malicious premonition of his own death is heard. From the very first lines, the author's pessimism, his melancholy and heartache are subtracted. He longs for joyful changes or typical calmness, but windy weather seems to confuse all the thoughts of the creator, preventing the mind from making the right decision and determining its own desires.

In the last lines of the poem, the poet expresses his distrust of the female sex, some contempt for crafty human relationships and unjustified love is felt. Now the author reflects on what could radically change internal contradictions and calm the soul. The lyrical character is trying to find his beloved, in whose powers the pacification of a sick soul and a broken heart of an afflicted poet.

Yesenin was looking for such a woman for a long time, but, apparently, like the hero of this poem, he failed to translate what he wanted into reality ...

"Leaves are falling, leaves are falling ..."

Leaves are falling, leaves are falling.
The wind moans
Long and deaf.
Who will please your heart?
Who will calm him down, my friend?
With aggravated eyelids
I look and I look at the moon.
Here again the roosters crowed
Into the settled silence.
Before dawn. Blue. Early.
And grace flying stars.
Would make any wish
I don’t know what to wish for.
What to wish for under the burden of everyday life,
Cursing your lot and your home?
I would like a good one now
See the girl under the window.
So that with her eyes cornflower blue
Only me -
Not to anyone -
And new words and feelings
Calmed the heart and chest.
So that under this white moon,
Taking a happy lot
I did not melt over the song, did not melt
And with someone else's cheerful youth
I never regretted my own.

Analysis of the poem "Autumn"

The first lines of the poem "Autumn" are based on an imaginary comparison of the author's "autumn red mare, scratching her back ...". The literary image of the horse is freedom, and it was this that the poet chose for comparison in order to convey to the reader the elusive nature of this time of year. However, the dynamism of a real animal is absent in Yesenin's lyric work. He exposes her in a different perspective, captured for an instant, to announce to the whole earth about the impending changes.

The poet fills autumn with bright colors, but at the same time points to the inherent fading of nature at this time. If you combine all the images presented in the poem, you can reveal the main essence laid down by the lyrics: the image of the autumn season conveys us an understanding of the transience of human life, it, like a sad time, cannot be stopped in order to keep it for a long time ...

The life of natural nature is comparable to the life of every person. Nature loses its colors and the summer aroma of fragrant plants, like our life, leaves without looking back, leaving pleasant memories of the lost years of youth.

The wind in the lyrical work of Sergei Yesenin represents the image of freedom, and the red rowan berries can be compared with the bloody wounds of Jesus Christ. These lines show the idea of \u200b\u200batonement based on the mistakes and sins of youth.

"Autumn" is a wonderful poem by the talented poet Sergei Yesenin, filled with deep philosophical meaning. By carefully reading the rhymes, you can remove the main essence of the lyric work, conveyed by the brilliant author to every listener ...

Fall

Quiet in the thicket of juniper along the cliff.
Autumn, red mare, scratching her manes.

Over the river bank
The blue clank of her horseshoes is heard.

Shemnik-wind with a careful step,
Crumples foliage over road ledges.

And kisses on a rowan bush,
Red ulcers to the invisible Christ.

It's already evening. Dew Where there are cabbage beds Winter sings - echoes Under the wreath of forest chamomile Dark night, can't sleep Tanya was good, it was not more beautiful in the village, Behind the mountains, behind the yellow valleys, Patterned again stretched out Play, play, talianochka, raspberry furs. IMITATION OF A SONG The scarlet light of dawn was woven on the lake. Mother went to Kupalnitsa through the woods, The reeds rustled over the backwater. Trinity morning, morning canon, A cloud has tied lace in the grove, Smoke flood Pours bird cherry with snow, Bagels hang on the wattle fence, KALIKI The evening is smoking, the cat is sleeping on a bar, Favorite land! My heart dreams I will go to a humble monk in a skufie The Lord walked to torture people in love, AUTUMN The winds do not shower the forest, IN THE HUT In the village with a crooked path Goy you, Russia, my dear, I am a shepherd, my chambers - My side, side, The melted clay dries, I feel the rainbow of God - On the way there are pilgrims, You are my abandoned land, Drowned out the drought of seeding, Black, then smelling like howling! Swamps and swamps, Behind a dark strand of woods, In the land where the yellow nettles I am again here, in my own family, Do not wander, do not wrinkle in the crimson bushes The road was thinking about the red evening, The weight and the field, and the cry of the roosters ... O edge rains and bad weather, DOVE Silver-ringing bell, The hewn groves sang, The winds were not blowing in vain, COW Under the red elm porch and courtyard, TABUN THE LOST MONTH About merry comrades, Spring does not look like joy, Scarlet darkness in the heavenly mob Farewell, dear forest forest , Your voice is invisible, like smoke in a hut. In the lunar lace furtively Where the mystery eternally slumbers, Clouds from the fox FOX O Russia, flap your wings, I will look in the field, I will look into the sky - It is not clouds that wander behind the barn Wake me up early tomorrow, Where are you, where are you, father's house, Oh Mother of God, O arable land, arable land, arable land, The fields are compressed, the groves are bare, Green hairstyle I am delirious in the first snow, Silver road, Open to me, transcendental guardian, O I believe, I believe, there is happiness! Songs, songs, what are you shouting about? Here it is, stupid happiness Danced, cried the spring rain, O muse, my flexible friend, I am the last poet of the village Soul sad about heaven, I'm tired of living in my native land Oh god, god, this depth - I left my home, Well under the autumn freshness SONG ABOUT THE DOG The golden foliage is spinning Now my love is not the same Owl is gagging like autumn SONG ABOUT BREAD HOOLIGAN All living things with a special meta Mysterious world, my ancient world, Are you my side, side! Do not swear. Such a thing! I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry, I won’t deceive myself, Yes! It's now decided. No return Drinking here again, fighting and crying Rash, harmonica. Boredom ... Boredom ... Sing, sing. On the damned guitar This street is familiar to me, Years are young with dumbfounded glory, LETTER TO MOTHER I have never been so tired. This sadness now cannot be scattered I have only one fun left: The blue fire swept around, You are so simple as everyone else, Let you be drunk by another, Darling, we will sit next to you, I am sad to look at you, You do not torment me with coolness Evening black eyebrows heaped up. We are now leaving a little to PUSHKIN A low house with blue shutters, THE SON OF THE BITCH Dissuaded the golden grove Blue May. Glowing warmth. TO THE DOG KACHALOVA Inexpressible, blue, gentle ... SONG Zarya calls out to another, Well, kiss me, kiss, Farewell, Baku! I won't see you. I see a dream. The road is black. The feather grass is sleeping. Dear plain, I will not return to my father's house, A month above the window. The wind is under the window. Bless every work, good luck! Apparently, this is the way it is forever - Leaves fall, leaves fall. Burn, my star, don't fall. Life is a deception with enchanting melancholy, Rash, talianka, ringing, rash, talianka, boldly I haven’t seen such beautiful ones Oh, how many cats there are in the world You sing me that song that before In this world I’m only a passer-by PERSIAN MOTIVES Oh you, sleigh ! And horses, horses! Snowy hush is crushed and pricked, You hear - the sled is rushing, you hear - the sled is rushing. Blue jacket. Blue eyes. Snowy hush twists smartly, In the blue evening, in the moonlit evening Do not wry a smile, pulling your hands, Poor writer, is it you Blue fog. Snow expanse, Wind whistling, silver wind, Small forest. Steppe and gave. Flowers tell me - goodbye, Supplement1

1918
***
Well under the autumn freshness
Shake off the apple-tree soul
And watch how it cuts over the river
The blue water of the plow sun.

Good to knock out of the body
Song-burning nail
And in festive white clothes
Wait for the guest to knock.

I learn, I learn with my heart
Protect the color of bird cherry in your eyes,
Only in avarice do feelings warm themselves,
When ribs breaks to leak.

The starry belfry hoots silently,
Every leaf is a candle to dawn.
I will not let anyone into the room,
I will not open the door to anyone.

Read by Yuri Bogatyrev

Yesenin Sergei Alexandrovich (1895-1925)

Yesenin! Golden name. The murdered lad. The genius of the Russian land! None of the Poets who came to this world had such spiritual strength, enchanting, all-powerful, soul-capturing childish openness, moral purity, deep pain and love for the Fatherland! So many tears were shed over his poems, so many human souls sympathized and empathized with every Yesenin line, that if it were counted, Yesenin's poetry would outweigh any and much! But this method of assessment is not available to earthlings. Although one could see from Parnassus - people have never loved anyone so much! With Yesenin's poems they went into battle in the Patriotic War, for his poems they went to Solovki, his poetry excited souls like no one else ... God alone knows about this holy love of the people for their son. Yesenin's portrait is squeezed into the wall family photo frames, placed on the deity along with the icons ...
And not a single Poet in Russia has yet been exterminated or banned with such frenzy and stubbornness as Yesenin! And they forbade, and silenced, and belittled in dignity, and poured mud - and they still do it. It is impossible to understand why?
Time has shown: the higher Poetry is by its secret lordship, the more embittered are the envious losers, and the more imitators.
Another great gift of God to Yesenin - he read his poems as uniquely as he created them. They sounded so in his soul! All that remained was to say. Everyone was shocked by his reading. Note that the great Poets have always been able to uniquely and by heart read their poems - Pushkin and Lermontov ... Blok and Gumilyov ... Yesenin and Klyuev ... Tsvetaeva and Mandelstam ... So, young gentlemen, a poet who mumbles his lines on a piece of paper from the stage is not a Poet, but an amateur ... A poet may not be able to do many things in his life, but not that!
The last poem "Goodbye, my friend, goodbye ..." is another mystery of the Poet. In the same year, 1925, there are other lines: "You don't know that life is worth living!"

Yes, in the deserted city lanes, not only stray dogs, "smaller brothers", but also big enemies listened to Yesenin's easy gait.
We must know the true truth and not forget how childishly his golden head was thrown back ... And again his last gasp is heard:

"Dear ones, good, good ..."