The poem “Unspeakable, Blue, Tender,” written in 1925, refers to the poet’s post-revolutionary work. This work, in my opinion, is one of his most striking lyrical works of that time. In it, Yesenin tries to comprehend the events taking place around him. Political issues are presented here in a lyrical tone. The poet does not go deep into the events, he simply explains his personal perception, his emotional attitude towards them:
Ineffable, blue, tender...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,
And my soul is a boundless field -
Breathes the scent of honey and roses.
This is how the poet begins his confession to the reader quietly and lyrically. The lines carry a bright feeling of silence and calm. The first words sound like a melodious melody, painting an image of the native land. However, it should be noted that in general the poem is tinged with sadness. Life's storms and thunderstorms took with them youthful agility and confident daring:
I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But I don’t curse what has passed.
These lines reflect the ideological basis of the poem. The leading motive embedded in the work is acceptance of life. The poet does not curse the contradictions that the 1917 revolution gave rise to. It is no coincidence that in his autobiography Yesenin will say that he accepted the revolution, but in a special way, with a peasant bias. Revolutionary events are seen by him as a “rabid” troika of horses that swept “throughout the whole country.” This metaphorical quality reminded me of Gogol’s troika rushing towards nowhere. But the two images have an important difference. For Gogol, the troika symbolizes the movement of Russia, while Yesenin’s image embodies the recent revolutionary events that occurred in the seventeenth year:
They sprayed it all around. We've saved up.
And they disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear a leaf falling.
The silence of the initial lines of the poem is abruptly replaced by the noise of the “rabid troika”. But after just a couple of lines, a solemn silence reigns in the work. The poet points out to us the spontaneous, devilish nature of the revolution. “The devil's whistle” is contrasted in the next line with the “forest abode,” the temple of nature and harmony. Here, in a short stroke, the mythopoetic artistic consciousness characteristic of Yesenin in the pre-revolutionary period of creativity is manifested.
Everything the poet and his country experienced remains in the past. He unites his fate with the fate of Russia, the personal with the public. He reflects on recent events, but does not curse the offenders. His soul is ready to accept the world as it was and is:
Let's figure out everything we saw,
What happened, what happened in the country,
And we will forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's and our fault.
The penultimate stanza contains the main idea of the poem. The poet takes the position of accepting reality. However, these lines also reveal the internal contradiction that oppresses him. Yesenin's gaze turns to the past. Only now is he beginning to realize that his youth has been lost. There, young and free, he could “demand” more from life. In the present, the poet can only accept her and forgive her:
I accept what happened and what didn’t happen,
It's just a pity that I'm in my thirtieth year
In my youth I demanded too little,
Losing yourself in the tavern's chaos.
The last lines of the poem, in my opinion, are the most expressive. The poet put his whole soul into them. He draws an interesting parallel between the young oak tree and himself:
But the young oak tree, without losing its nuts,
It bends just like the grass in a field...
With this metaphorical comparison, the poet depicts his fate. Life broke him, “bent him” like a young tree. The image of a young oak symbolizes the strength of a young talented poet, ruined by the revolution and subsequent events.
Poem by S. Yesenin “Unspeakable, blue, tender...”. Wise. Looks like he's over a hundred years old. An old man with a silver beard is thirty-year-old Yesenin. His beautiful heart beats calmly and evenly, not a splash, not a rustle - smooth surface. The sea after the storm has passed. This is how Sergei Yesenin appears in this poem. The expressive images of the verse are beautiful. He compares his past life to a frenzied three of horses:
They sprayed it all around. We've saved up.
And they disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear a leaf falling.
And now, when everything has calmed down, he is also sensitive to everything, also attentive, but without youthful fervor, “he calmly drinks everything into his chest.” Of course, he is still a young and ardent man, but at a new stage in his life, having traveled abroad, looking at many things in a new way, he perceives life more deeply.
This poem is a conversation between the poet and his soul. He constantly addresses her as an interlocutor:
Stop, soul, you and I have passed
Through the stormy laid out path.
The poet turns inward, completing a certain stage of his life. He sums things up, evaluates past actions, his own and those of others. Such moments definitely happen in the life of every person. It may be minutes or years, but the surest thing is to turn inside yourself during this time. Talk to your soul.
Personalities like Yesenin can also express this internal dialogue in the most beautiful images, convey all the shades of your inner life. Here he speaks quite lightly about his past life, “forgiving the sins” of himself, others, and his country.
Through someone else's and our fault.
But there is also a glimpse of regret about the carelessly wasted youth. Although he immediately brushes it off, justifies his wild years, and without regret:
But the young oak tree, without losing its nuts,
It bends just like the grass in a field...
Oh, youth, wild youth,
Golden daredevil!
What is there to grieve about for someone whose “soul - a boundless field - breathes the smell of honey and roses?” His soul forever imprinted in itself a rural childhood filled with the purity of nature. The purity remained in it even after life changes. It became even clearer, like air after a heavy thunderstorm. I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But I don’t curse what has passed.
Like a threesome of horses running wild
Traveled all over the country.
It's about time. “Moscow Tavern,” although it brought him fame, was not the kind of fame that poets dream of. His poems become more philosophical, “grow up”; they contain more than just savoring one’s own feelings - they contain an analysis of events:
Let's figure out everything we saw
What happened, what happened in the country,
And we will forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's and our fault.
Speaking about the changes that have occurred in Russia, the poet guiltily evaluates his actions:
I accept what happened and what didn’t happen,
It’s just a pity that I’m in my thirtieth year -
In my youth I demanded too little,
Losing yourself in the tavern's chaos.
However, youth is youth. It’s a pity, of course, for the lost time, but my creative powers are not yet exhausted. Yesenin’s honesty and kindness, his reluctance to follow political trends, helped him become a truly national poet, whose poems seem as modern and timely now as they did during the poet’s lifetime. His poems are not only read and recited by heart, many of them have become folk songs, they are sung both in choirs and on the stage. Hearing them, every time you are amazed at the charge of kindness that they bring to people, they teach us to love people and the Motherland, they bring the bright beauty that we so lack today.
Sergei Yesenin spent his entire childhood and youth in the Ryazan village of Konstantinov. Village impressions shaped the poet’s worldview. Rural images forever became a part of his soul, never dulling or weakening in his consciousness.
I will never forget you, -
They were too recent, echoed in the darkness of the year.
He never changed his eternal religion - love for Russian nature. Often in his poems there are phrases like this:
As much as I would like not to love,
I still can't learn...
Or, in another poem:
But not to love you, not to believe -
I can't learn.
Yesenin is a prisoner of his love. Basically, he writes joyfully and lightly about the village, but he does not forget about the sorrows that he himself saw. So, in this poem, speaking about cranes, Yesenin conveys the poverty of the village, the lawlessness of the robbers:
...Because in the vastness of the fields
They haven't seen any nourishing bread.
We just saw birches and flowers,
Yes, broom, crooked and leafless...
Yesenin's poetry is full of original Russian words, the same ones that his great-grandmothers used. One can constantly hear in his poems an echo of Russian antiquity: “birch and blossom”, “darling howl”, which gives a special charm. He himself “completes” many words so that they are sung. For example, “but the oak is young and has not become stale…”. Where does this “not losing your stomach” come from? Or “everything calmly drinks in
breast"? And this comes from the poetic genius of Sergei Yesenin, whose storehouse of such words and transformations is endless. There is also a shade of an urban understanding of life in this verse: I don’t know how to admire and I wouldn’t want to perish in the wilderness...
There is also an amazing image in which there is tenderness and life lived in village life years, and poverty, and holiness in this poverty:
Until today I still dream
Our field, meadows and forest,
Covered with the gray chintz of these poor northern skies.
You immediately see an elderly woman with tired but kind palms - perhaps the poet’s mother, who in her poverty is purer than any rich man. There is so much that is so painful and distant in one phrase. In general, Yesenin’s phrases always breathe the beauty of Rus', flow like rivers and endless skies, cover the expanses of fields, fill the reader with a wheat-blue-transparent feeling - (“yellow-haired, with blue eyes"). Yes, Yesenin so merged with Russian nature that he seemed to be a continuation of it, a part of it. And guessing this himself, he writes in his poem:
...And under this cheap chintz You are dear to me, my dear howl.
That’s why in recent days the years no longer seem young...
Low house with blue shutters
I will never forget you.
M. Gorky, having met with Yesenin in 1922, wrote about his impression: “...Sergei Yesenin is not so much a person as an organ created by nature exclusively for poetry, to express the inexhaustible “sadness of the fields,” love for all living things in the world and mercy , which - more than anything else - is deserved by man."
“Unspeakable, blue, tender...” Sergei Yesenin
Ineffable, blue, tender...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms,
And my soul is a boundless field -
Breathes the scent of honey and roses.I calmed down. The years have taken their toll
But I don’t curse what has passed.
Like a threesome of horses running wild
Traveled all over the country.They sprayed it all around. We've saved up.
And they disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear a leaf falling.Is it a bell? Is it a distant echo?
Everything calmly sinks into the chest.
Stop, soul, you and I have passed
Through the stormy laid out path.Let's figure out everything we saw
What happened, what happened in the country,
And we will forgive where we were bitterly offended
Through someone else's and our fault.I accept what happened and what didn’t happen,
It’s just a pity that I’m in my thirtieth year -
In my youth I demanded too little,
Losing yourself in the tavern's chaos.But the young oak tree, without losing its nuts,
It bends just like the grass in a field...
Oh, youth, wild youth,
Golden daredevil!
Analysis of Yesenin’s poem “Unspeakable, blue, tender...”
In the last year of his life, Yesenin wrote the poem “Unspeakable, blue, tender...”, in which he summed up the years left behind. A lyrical hero, wise from experience, appears before the readers. He is calm, peaceful. His soul, having survived storms and thunderstorms, having gone through adversity, is now comparable to a vast field, breathing the smell of honey and roses. Yesenin himself was only thirty years old at the time of writing the analyzed text. However, the poem appears to have been created by an older person. In the second stanza, the hero begins to indulge in memories. Even from their fragments it becomes clear how turbulent his youth was. At the same time, he does not regret the past. Still, nothing can be returned, nothing can be corrected. In the hero’s words there is no strong condemnation of his own actions. Young is green. Who hasn't made mistakes in their youth?
“Unspeakable, blue, tender...” is not just a summing up, but also a conversation with one’s own soul. Throughout the text, the lyrical hero periodically addresses her. She appears as someone who really exists, as if best friend, faithful companion. The road together has been long and stormy, but the time has come to calm down. You need to stop, catch your breath, and figure out what happened. The hero’s attention is focused on both his personal life and the changes that have occurred in the country. The theme of the homeland does not arise by chance. First of all, she always played important role in the works of Yesenin. Secondly, at the beginning of the 20th century, Russia experienced many upheavals - wars, revolutions, the end of the monarchy and the Bolsheviks coming to power. Naturally, these changes could not but affect the lives of the people. And it is quite logical that the lyrical hero of the poem wants to understand them.
Regret about wasted youth arises only towards the end of the analyzed work. At the same time, the tavern theme emerges, often found in Yesenin’s later lyrics. Only at the age of thirty did the hero realize that the time he spent at drinking establishments was wasted. However, it later turns out that the expressed regret is only a momentary weakness. In the last quatrain there is a turn again. The hero is trying to justify himself, to determine a new vector of development. Yes, youth is left behind, but old age has not yet arrived. It turns out that the hero is worried now best time– he has the experience gained in his youth, and has the strength to continue living life to the fullest without repeating old mistakes.
Analysis of S. Yesenin's poem "Unspeakable, blue, tender..."
S. Yesenin left us a wonderful poetic heritage. His talent was revealed brightly and spontaneously in the lyrics. Lyric poetry by S.E. amazingly rich and multifaceted in its emotional expression, sincerity and humanity, brevity and picturesqueness. On Yesenin's lyrics recent years lies the mark of time. It is also imbued with the alarming concern of a contemporary poet about the fate of the country in a turbulent revolutionary time: both a premonition of the inevitability of the end of patriarchal Russia, and a gradual awareness of the importance of “industrial power” for the future of his homeland and the pathos of love for all life on earth. The poet's lyrical hero is a contemporary of the era of the grandiose disruption of human relations; the world of his thoughts, feelings, passions is complex and contradictory; the character is dramatic. Yesenin had the gift of deep poetic self-disclosure. The poems of the last years of the poet's life are based on the motif of return. This is also a real biographical return to his native village after eight years of absence, a search for the lost harmony of the soul based on a new ideal. What changed? What discoveries does the poet make for himself?
“Unspeakable, quiet, gentle...
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms..."
In the poem, we are captivated and captured in “song captivity” by the amazing harmony of feeling and word, thought and image, unity external drawing poetry with inner emotionality and sincerity. The appearance of Russia with its fields, trees, blue sky above the plain, and clouds has a magical effect:
And now here in the forest monastery
You can even hear a leaf falling
Yesenin's nature is multicolored, multicolored. It plays and shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow. The color scheme helps convey the subtlest moods, imparts romantic spirituality and freshness to the poet’s images. Yesenin's favorite colors are blue and light blue. These color tones enhance the feeling of the vastness of Russia's vast expanses. Epithets, comparisons, metaphors in a poem exist not for the sake of beauty of form, but in order to more accurately express the poet’s feelings.
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms.
And my soul is a boundless field...
The poet's soul truly was a “boundless field.” His poem is not words, but poetry of fearless sincerity. It seems to me that Yesenin’s inner drama of recent years is so inevitably determined by the contradiction between the poetry of the soul and the prose of life. The poem “Unspeakable, blue, tender...” begins with the quietest, most tender recitative, and ends with a dance motif: But a young oak tree, without losing its nuts, bends just like the grass in a field. The formulation “an oak tree bends as much as the grass in a field without losing its appetite” was written by the poet within the framework of a proverb, in this paradise of everyday life and common sense. The proverb condemns: Oh, you youth, wild youth, Golden daredevil! Yesenin does not wax poetic about the tavern or drunken stupor. In his poetry, the image is a symbolic embodiment of the death of the human person. It is opposed to tenderness and harmony. S. Yesenin’s poem was also given a piercing insight by the fact that he had to renounce the usual way of village life. This love had to be torn from the heart with pain:
Is it a bell? Is it a distant echo?
Everything calmly sinks into the chest.
One hundred, soul, you and I have passed
Through the stormy laid out path.
From the extreme overstrain of the era comes early fatigue, as in Lermontov’s poems, and then all that remains is to sigh: indescribable, blue, tender...” - and there is no time to look back into the past, because from there the poet is, as it were, carried out on a mad three:
I calmed down. The years have done the trick.
But I don’t curse what has passed.
Like three horses going wild
Traveled all over the country.
Yesenin, looking back, thought with bitterness that there was no complete harmony and creative output in his life, that much was wasted in his youth. Hence the bitter confession:
I understand what happened and what didn’t happen.
It’s just a pity, in my thirtieth year,
In my youth I demanded too little,
Losing yourself in the tavern's chaos.
These lines are due to thoughts about lost youth and unrealized opportunities. S. Yesenin at first joyfully accepts the revolution, because he sees in it a celebration of the renewal of Russia. But a little time passes and the poet’s attitude towards the new changes. In the split of the country, he no longer finds the fulfillment of his expectations. Then the lines are born:
They sprayed it all around. We've saved up.
And they disappeared under the devil's whistle.
And now here, in the forest monastery
You can even hear a leaf falling.
His homeland is losing its appearance, Russia has changed, become alien:
Let's figure out everything we saw
What happened, what happened in the country.
And we will forgive where we were bitterly offended.
Through someone else's and our fault.
But the poet cannot imagine his life without Russia, and soon Yesenin’s life ends tragically. But the life of the poet, who personifies everything that is best and beautiful in the people, the open, honest, wise, great Russian poet S. Yesenin, continues and will continue as long as the Russian people themselves exist.
S. Yesenin left us a wonderful poetic legacy. His talent was revealed brightly and spontaneously in the lyrics. Yesenin's lyrical poetry is surprisingly rich and multifaceted in its emotional expression, sincerity and humanity, brevity and picturesqueness. Yesenin's lyrics of recent years bear the stamp of time. It is imbued with the anxious concern of the contemporary poet about the fate of the country in turbulent revolutionary times: and a premonition of the inevitability of the end of patriarchal Russia, and a gradual awareness of the importance of “industrial power” for the future of his homeland and the pathos of love for all life on earth.
The poet’s lyrical hero is a contemporary of the era of the grandiose disruption of human relations; the world of his thoughts, feelings, passions is complex and contradictory; the character is dramatic. Yesenin had the gift of deep poetic self-disclosure. The poems of the last years of the poet's life are based on the motif of return. This is also a real biographical return to his native village after eight years of absence, a search for the lost harmony of the soul based on a new ideal.
In the poem “Unspeakable, Quiet, Gentle...” you are captivated and captured in “song captivity” by the amazing harmony of feeling and word, thought and image, the unity of the external design of the poem with internal emotionality and soulfulness. The appearance of Russia with its fields, trees, blue sky above the plain, and clouds has a magical effect:
And now in the forest monastery you can even hear a leaf falling
Yesenin's nature is multicolored, multicolored. It plays and shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow. The color scheme helps convey the subtlest moods, imparts romantic spirituality and freshness to the poet’s images. Yesenin’s favorite colors are blue and light blue. These color tones enhance the feeling of the vastness of Russia's vast expanses. Epithets, comparisons, metaphors in a poem exist not for the sake of beauty of form, but in order to more accurately express the poet’s feelings.
My land is quiet after storms, after thunderstorms. And my soul is a boundless field...
The poet’s soul truly was a “boundless field.” His poem is not words, but poetry of fearless sincerity. It seems to me that Yesenin’s inner drama of recent years is so inevitably determined by the contradiction between the poetry of the soul and the prose of life.
The poem “Unspeakable, blue, tender...” begins with the quietest, most gentle recitative, and ends with a dance motif:
But a young oak, without losing its nuts, bends just like grass in a field.
The formulation “an oak tree bends just like the grass in a field without losing its appetite” was written by the poet within the framework of a proverb, in this paradise of everyday life and common sense. The proverb condemns:
Oh you youth, wild youth, Golden daredevil!
Yesenin does not wax poetic about the tavern or drunken stupor. In his poetry, the image is a symbolic embodiment of the death of the human person. It is opposed to tenderness and harmony. S. Yesenin’s poem was also given a piercing insight by the fact that he had to renounce the usual way of village life. This love had to be torn from the heart with pain:
Is it a bell? Is it a distant echo? Everything calmly sinks into the chest. One hundred, soul, you and I have traveled through the stormy prescribed path.
From the extreme overstrain of the era comes early, as in Lermontov’s poems. fatigue, and then all that remains is to sigh: “unspeakable, blue, tender...” - and there is no time to look back into the past, because from there the poet is, as it were, carried out on a mad three:
I calmed down. The years have done the trick. But that. I can’t swear what happened. Like a trio of wild horses, they rode all over the country.
Yesenin, looking back, thought with bitterness that there was no complete harmony and creative output in his life, that much was wasted in his youth. Hence the bitter confession:
I understand what happened and what didn’t happen. It’s just a pity, in my thirtieth year, I demanded too little in my youth, Losing myself in the tavern’s chaos.
These lines are due to thoughts about lost youth and unrealized opportunities. S. Yesenin at first joyfully accepts the revolution, because he sees in it a celebration of the renewal of Russia. But a little time passes and the poet’s attitude towards the new changes. In the split of the country, he no longer finds the fulfillment of his expectations. Then the lines are born:
They sprayed it all around. We've saved up. And they disappeared under the devil's whistle. And now, in the forest monastery, you can even hear a leaf falling.
His homeland is losing its appearance, Russia has changed, become alien:
Let's figure out everything we saw, what happened, what happened in the country. And we will forgive where we were bitterly offended. Through someone else's and our fault.
But the poet cannot imagine his life without Russia, and soon Yesenin’s life ends tragically. But the life of the poet, who personifies everything that is best and beautiful in the people, the open, honest, wise, great Russian poet S. Yesenin continues and will continue as long as the Russian people themselves exist.