The poem “Winter Morning” was written by Alexander Sergeevich on November 3, 1829 in one day.
It was a difficult period in the poet's life. About six months earlier, he wooed Natalya Goncharova, but was refused, which, according to Pushkin, drove him crazy. Trying to somehow distract himself from unpleasant experiences, the poet chose one of the most reckless ways - to go to the active army, to the Caucasus, where there was a war with Turkey.
After staying there for several months, the rejected groom decides to return and ask for Natalya’s hand in marriage again. On his way home, he visits his friends, the Wulf family, in the village of Pavlovskoye, Tula province, where this work is created.
In terms of its genre, the poem “Frost and Sun, a Wonderful Day...” refers to landscape lyricism, art style– romanticism. It is written in iambic tetrameter - my favorite poetic meter poet. It showed Pushkin’s high professionalism - few authors can beautifully write six-line stanzas.
Despite the apparent linearity of the poem, it is not only about the beauty of a winter morning. It bears the imprint of the author's personal tragedy. This is shown in the second stanza - yesterday’s storm echoes the poet’s mood after the refusal of matchmaking. But further, using the example of magnificent morning landscapes, Pushkin’s optimism and belief that he can win the hand of his beloved are revealed.
And so it happened - in May of the following year, the Goncharov family approved Natalya’s marriage to Pushkin.
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
At the end of your life, it won’t matter how many cars you have in your garage or what clubs you’ve been to. What matters is how many lives you changed, how many people you influenced and helped. Do good, it feels good.
Fear is yours best friend and your worst enemy. It's like fire. You control the fire - and you can cook with it. You lose control over it, and it will burn everything around and kill you.
Until you yourself have learned to raise the sun into the heavens every morning, until you know where to direct lightning or how to create a hippopotamus, do not presume to judge how God rules the world - be silent and listen.
A person, in any guise,
Everyone dreams of finding a place in the sun.
And having enjoyed the light and warmth,
He begins to look for sunspots.
One fine day you will come to your place, take that same wine, but it doesn’t taste good, it’s uncomfortable to sit and you’re a completely different person.
Smile when there are clouds in the sky.
Smile when there is bad weather in your soul.
Smile and you will immediately feel better.
Smile, because you are someone’s happiness!
And a new day is like a clean leaf,
You decide for yourself: what, where, when...
Start it with good thoughts, friend,
And then everything will work out in life!
Let's just be. No promises needed. Don't expect the impossible. You will be with me, and I will be with you. Let's just have each other. Silently. Quiet. And for real!!!
When your face is cold and bored,
When you live in irritation and argument,
You don't even know what a torment you are
And you don’t even know how sad you are.When are you kinder than the blue in the sky,
And in the heart there is light, and love, and participation,
You don't even know what song you are
And you don’t even know how lucky you are!
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
Analysis of the poem “Winter Morning” by Pushkin
The poem “Winter Morning” is a brilliant lyrical work by Pushkin. It was written in 1829, when the poet had already been released from exile.
“Winter Morning” refers to the poet’s works dedicated to the quiet idyll of village life. The poet always treated the Russian people and Russian nature with deep trepidation. Love for the Motherland and native language was an innate quality of Pushkin. He conveyed this feeling with great skill in his works.
The poem begins with a line known to almost everyone: “Frost and sun; wonderful day!” From the first lines, the author creates a magical picture of a clear winter day. The lyrical hero greets his beloved - “adorable friend.” The amazing transformation of nature that took place overnight is revealed through a sharp contrast: “the blizzard was angry”, “the darkness was rushing” - “the spruce is turning green”, “the river is shining”. Changes in nature, according to the poet, will definitely affect a person’s mood. He invites his “sad beauty” to look out the window and feel the splendor of the morning landscape.
Pushkin liked to live in the village, away from the noisy bustle of the city. He describes the simple everyday joys. A person needs little to be happy: a cozy house with a hot stove and the presence of his beloved woman. A sleigh ride can be a particular pleasure. The poet strives to admire the fields and forests so dear to him, to evaluate the changes that have occurred to them. The charm of a walk is given by the presence of a “dear friend” with whom you can share your joy and delight.
Pushkin is considered one of the founders of the modern Russian language. “Winter Morning” is one of the small but important building blocks in this matter. The poem is written in simple and understandable language. Iambic tetrameter, which the poet loved so much, is ideal for describing the beauty of the landscape. The work is imbued with extraordinary purity and clarity. The main means of expression are numerous epithets. The past sad day includes: “cloudy”, “pale”, “gloomy”. A real joyful day is “magnificent”, “transparent”, “amber”. The central comparison of the poem is dedicated to the beloved woman - the “star of the north.”
There is no hidden philosophical meaning in the poem, no omissions or allegories. Not using beautiful phrases and expressions, Pushkin painted a magnificent picture that cannot leave anyone indifferent.
WINTER MORNING
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
COMMENTS:
It's time, beauty, wake up! -Wake up, my dear!
Open your sleep-closed eyes - Open your sleep-closed eyes
Aurora - Goddess of the morning
Evening = in the evening
There was a haze in the cloudy sky - clouds were moving quickly in the dark sky
dark clouds = large dark clouds
now-now
like wonderful carpets
illuminated with amber glitter - lighted up with amber glitter
merry crackling of the fire
couch = bed, sofa
filly = horse, horse
ban - to harness
sliding - sliding
WINTER MORNING
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
Pushkin's poems
Winter morning
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up;
Open up closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
To the poet
Poet! do not value people's love.
There will be a momentary noise of enthusiastic praise;
You will hear the judgment of a fool and the laughter of a cold crowd,
But you remain firm, calm and gloomy.
You are the king: live alone. On the road to freedom
Go where your free mind takes you,
Improving the fruits of your favorite thoughts,
Not demanding rewards for a noble feat.
They are in you. You are your own highest court;
You know how to evaluate your work more strictly than anyone else.
Are you satisfied with it, discerning artist?
Satisfied? So let the crowd scold him
And spits on the altar where your fire burns,
And your tripod shakes in childish playfulness.
Madonna
Not many paintings by ancient masters
I always wanted to decorate my abode,
So that the visitor might superstitiously marvel at them,
Heeding the important judgment of experts.
In my simple corner, amidst slow labors,
I wanted to be forever a spectator of one picture,
One: so that from the canvas, like from the clouds,
Most Pure and our divine savior -
She with greatness, he with intelligence in his eyes -
They looked, meek, in glory and in the rays,
Alone, without angels, under the palm of Zion.
My wishes came true. Creator
Sent you to me, you, my Madonna,
The purest beauty, the purest example
No, I don't value rebellious pleasure
Sensual delight, madness, frenzy,
With the lamentations and cries of the young bacchante,
When, curling in my arms like a snake,
With a burst of ardent caresses and an ulcer of kisses
She is hastening the moment of the last shudders!
Oh, how sweeter you are, my humble girl!
Oh, how painfully happy I am with you,
When, bending over for long prayers,
You surrender to me tenderly without rapture,
Shy - cold, to my delight
You barely respond, you don’t listen to anything
And then you become more and more animated -
And you finally share my flame against your will!
Desert fathers and blameless wives,
To fly with your heart into the field of correspondence,
To strengthen it in the midst of long storms and battles,
They composed many divine prayers;
But none of them touches me,
Like the one the priest repeats
In sad days of Great Lent;
Most often it comes to my lips
And he strengthens the fallen with an unknown force:
Vladyko my days! sad spirit of idleness,
Lustful beginnings , this hidden serpent,
And do not give idle talk to my soul.
But let me see my sins, oh God,
Yes, my brother will not accept condemnation from me,
And the spirit of humility, patience, love
And revive chastity in my heart.
It was time: our holiday is young
He shone, made noise and was crowned with roses,
And the clinking of glasses mixed with the songs,
And we sat together in a crowd.
Then, careless ignoramuses at heart,
We all lived easier and bolder,
We drank everything to the health of hope
And youth and all its undertakings.
Now it’s not like that: our riotous holiday
With the arrival of years, like us, I went crazy,
He calmed down, calmed down, settled down,
The ringing of his health bowls became muffled;
The conversation between us does not flow so playfully.
More spacious, sadder we sit,
And less often laughter is heard among the songs,
And more often we sigh and remain silent.
It's time for everything: for the twenty-fifth time
We celebrate the Lyceum's cherished day.
The years have passed in unnoticed succession,
And how they changed us!
No wonder - no! – a quarter of a century has flown by!
Do not complain: this is the law of fate;
The whole world revolves around man,
Will he really be the only one who doesn't move?
Remember, O friends, from that time,
When our circle of fate was connected,
What, what were we witnesses to!
Games of the mysterious game,
rushed about confused nations;
And kings have risen and fallen;
And the blood of people is either Glory or Freedom,
Then Pride stained the altars.
Do you remember: when the lyceum appeared,
How the Tsar opened the palace of the Tsaritsyn for us.
And we came. And Kunitsyn met us
Greetings among the royal guests, -
Then the storm of the twelfth year
Still asleep. More Napoleon
Didn't experience the great people -
He still threatened and hesitated.
Do you remember: the army followed the army,
We said goodbye to our older brothers
And they returned to the shadow of science with annoyance,
Jealous of the one who dies
He walked past us... and the tribes fought,
Rus' embraced the arrogant enemy,
And they were illuminated by the glow of Moscow
His shelves are ready with snow.
Do you remember how our Agamemnon
He came rushing to us from captive Paris.
What delight there was then [before him]!
How great he was, how beautiful he was,
Friend of the people, savior of their freedom!
Do you remember how you suddenly perked up?
These gardens, these living waters,
Where he spent his glorious leisure time.
And he is gone - and he left Rus',
Ascended them over the world in amazement
And on the rock as a forgotten exile,
A stranger to everything, Napoleon has faded away.
And the new king, stern and mighty,
At the turn of Europe he became cheerful,
[And above the earth] new clouds came together,
And their hurricane...
It's time, my friend, it's time! [peace] the heart asks -
Days fly by, and every hour carries away
A piece of existence, and you and I together
We assume live, and lo and behold, we’ll die.
There is no happiness in the world, but there is peace and will.
I have long dreamed of an enviable share -
Long ago, a tired slave, I planned to escape
To the distant monastery of labors and pure bliss
