Who wrote where the firewood from the forest came from. Peasant children poem by Nikolai Nekrasov

Comments

TRAVEL - here in the slang sense: a respected prisoner who has weight in the underworld.

CHAPAT - go.

DUBNYAK - frost.

SET - look. KOCHUMAT - in this case: to go. In general, this word is often pronounced with a contemptuous connotation: kochumai from here! And then - kochumai! What does it mean - stop, back off. In a certain context, shut up, etc. (i.e. stop doing something).

RAM - carry, carry.

OBAPOL - log processing waste. On both sides, the log is cut off on the sides, the fallen off slabs are both. In folk dialects, obapol means: around, around (from the Church Slavonic “both sexes” - on both sides of the floor, that is, on both sides of clothing). In the north, you often hear from Siberians: “Speak the matter, and don’t go around and get the hell out!”.

DISCHARGE FOR HONEST THIEF - pose as an authoritative criminal. If you didn’t come out with a suit, then you’re drying up. The head will be torn off.

UNDER THE GILLS - gills in general: throat or lungs. Take by the gills - by the throat. In this case, under the gills - under the knots. With regard to people, taking them under the gills is the same as twisting flippers: twisting their arms and escorting them.

LOHMAN - sucker means simpleton. And the lohman is an eminently simpleton, which is why ironically the “men” is added - a man. There is praise: "Well, you are a Man!". In general, the underworld borrowed the word "loh" in the 19th century from the secret language of itinerant peddlers - peddlers, or ofenes. In the Offenian language, a peasant was called a “lokh”: “The suckers took the klygi and gomza” (“The men treated the braga and wine”). Even then, the word had a contemptuous connotation, as evidenced by the feminine form “lokha” (or “solokha”) - a fool, a slow, stupid woman. It is understandable: itinerant merchants always cheated the simple-hearted villagers.
But the ofeni scammers also did not invent the "loha", but borrowed it from the inhabitants of the Russian North. So in the Arkhangelsk province and in other places have long been called salmon - a fish of the salmon family. White Sea suckers are stupid and slow fish, and therefore extremely convenient for catching. As evidenced, for example, by the poetic lines of Fyodor Glinka, who wrote in the poem "The Maiden of the Karelian Forests" (1828):
That son of Karela is silent
Sleepy swarm of careless suckers
Anxious with a sharp mark.

WHEELS WITH SCREAMING - brand new shoes, still squeaking. There may be shoes, boots, boots.

pea jacket - convict's winter sheepskin coat.

With an ACE ON THE BACK - earlier, a yellow rhombus was sewn on the back of a convict, so that when escaping, it would be easier to hit him in the back. According to the memoirs of some convicts (I think Yakubovich), aces were also black (depending on the color of the clothes). At Blok, remember: "You need an ace of diamonds on your back." Sticking an ace of diamonds means sending them to a mansion, to a special regime colony, where especially dangerous recidivists are doing their time.

S GULKIN HORDER - common people: small, like the penis of a dove (“gulki”).
BROTHER - also brother, bro, brother, bratella: the appeal of tramps to each other. All of them are for each other - brothers, brothers.

FOLLOW THE MARKET - either filter the market, or knit a broom: watch what you say, you allow yourself too much.

WRITE - cut with a knife. You can die to death, but more often - pee a little, or you can paint your face so that your mother does not recognize.

FUCK YOU, OPERATOR? - catchphrase. The answer to those who want to know a lot. Idle inquiries among the lads are not welcome.

PLOW - work tirelessly.

WEST - either for the bastard, or for the bastard: shameful, shameful, unworthy. Although there are situations...

FAMILY - they also say kentovka: a small association of prisoners who support each other, share food, junk, write for their family members in front of others (that is, they protect). In St. Petersburg zones, however, “families” prefer not to speak: it is very similar to “testes”, not a good association ...

A MAN is a respectful description of a tramp, a convict: "This is a man!" Or from the "muzhiks" (zeks who plow and quietly drag out their term) they single out those close to the thieves' brotherhood - "man-man", or "thieves' man". And “people” are authoritative convicts (previously only thieves were called that).

KODLAK - also kodla, kodlo: gathering, company.

BAKLANYO - collective from cormorant: a prisoner who likes to scandal, make noise, runs into trouble. They are treated with contempt.

Drove - nickname, nickname. The same is a click. The last word don't like it now. "The dog calls, I have a rattle."

EXCHANGE - to serve a certain part of the sentence imposed by the court.

SHIN WITHOUT GRIEF - disappear without complications.

MAN WITH A NAIL

Once upon a time in the cold winter time,
I came out of the forest; there was severe frost.
I look, it rises slowly uphill
Horse carrying firewood.
And, marching importantly, in serenity.
A man is leading a horse by the bridle
In big boots, in a sheepskin coat,
In big mittens ... and himself with a fingernail!
- Hello, boy! - “Go past yourself!”
- Painfully you are formidable, as I can see!
Where are the firewood from? - “From the forest, of course;
Father, you hear, cuts, and I take away.
(The woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.)
- Does your father have a big family? -
“The family is big, yes two people
All the men, something: my father and I ... "
- So there it is! What's your name? -
"Vlas".
- And what year are you? - “The sixth passed ...
Well, dead!" shouted the little one in a bass voice.
He jerked by the bridle and walked faster ...

PEASANT CHILDREN

Wow, it's hot!.. We picked mushrooms until noon.
Here they came out of the forest - just towards
A blue ribbon, winding, long.
Meadow river: they jumped in a crowd,
And blond heads over the desert river
What porcini mushrooms in a forest clearing!
The river resounded with laughter and howling:
Here a fight is not a fight, a game is not a game ...
And the sun scorches them with midday heat.
Home, kids! It's time to dine.
Have returned. Everyone has a full basket,
And how many stories! Got scythe
Caught a hedgehog, got lost a little
And they saw a wolf ... wow, what a terrible one!
The hedgehog is offered both flies and boogers.
Roots gave him his milk -
Doesn't drink! Retreated...
Who catches leeches
On the lava, where the uterus beats the linen,
Who nurses his sister, two-year-old Glashka,
Who drags a bucket of kvass on the harvest,
And he, having tied a shirt under his throat,
Something mysteriously draws in the sand;
That one got into a puddle, and this one with a new one:
I wove myself a glorious wreath.
All white, yellow, lavender
Yes, occasionally a red flower.
Those sleep in the sun, those dance squatting.
Here is a girl catching a horse with a basket:
Caught, jumped up and rides on it.
And is she, born under the sun's heat
And in an apron brought home from the field.
To be afraid of your humble horse? ..
Mushroom time did not have time to depart,
Look - everyone has black lips.
They stuffed the oskom: the blueberries are ripe!
And there are raspberries, lingonberries, walnuts!
A childish cry echoing
From morning to night it rumbles through the forests.
Frightened by singing, hooting, laughter.
Will the grouse take off, croaking to the chicks,
Whether a hare jumps up - sodom, turmoil!
Here is an old capercaillie with a slick wing
It was brought into the bush ... well, the poor thing is bad!
The living are dragged to the village with triumph.

MOROZ-VOEVODA

It is not the wind that rages over the forest,
Streams did not run from the mountains -
Frost-voivode patrol
Bypasses his possessions.

Looks - good blizzards
Forest paths brought
And are there any cracks, cracks,
Is there any bare ground anywhere?

Are the tops of the pines fluffy?
Is the pattern on oak trees beautiful?
And are the ice floes tightly bound
In great and small waters?

Walks - walks through the trees.
Cracking on frozen water
and the bright sun plays
In his shaggy beard...

Climbing on a large pine tree.
Hits the branches with a club
And I delete myself,
Boastful song sings:

“... Blizzards, snows and fogs
Always submissive to frost
I'll go to the sea-okiyany -
I will build palaces of ice.

I think - the rivers are big
For a long time I will hide under oppression,
I will build ice bridges.
Which the people will not build.

Where fast, noisy waters
Recently flowed freely -
Pedestrians passed today.
Convoys with goods passed ...

I'm rich, I don't count the treasury
And everything does not lack goodness;
I'm taking away my kingdom
In diamonds, pearls, silver ... "

SASHA

In the winter twilight the nanny's tales
Sasha loved. In the morning in a sleigh

Sasha sat down, flew like an arrow,
Full of happiness, from an icy mountain.

The nanny shouts: "Don't kill yourself, dear!"
Sasha, chasing his sleigh.

Fun running. On full run
Sled on one side - and Sasha in the snow!

Braids will be knocked out, a fur coat will be disheveled
Snow shakes off, laughs, dove!

No grumbling and gray-haired nanny:
She loves her young laugh...

Again I am in the village. I go hunting, I write my verses - life is easy. Yesterday, tired of walking through the swamp, I wandered into the shed and fell deeply asleep. I woke up: in the wide cracks of the barn, the rays of the cheerful sun look. The dove coos; flew over the roof, Young rooks cry; Some other bird is also flying - I recognized the crow just by the shadow; Chu! a whisper of some kind... but a string Along the slit of attentive eyes! Everything is gray, brown, blue eyes- Mixed like flowers in a field. They have so much peace, freedom and affection, They have so much holy kindness! I baby eye I love the expression, I always recognize it. I froze: tenderness touched my soul ... Chu! whisper again! FIRST G O L O S Beard! SECOND A sir, they said! .. Third Slow down, you devils! The second bar does not have a beard - a mustache. FIRST And the legs are long, like poles. FOURTH FOURTH There is a watch on the cap, look! P i t y y Ay, an important thing! The sixth And the golden chain... The seventh Tea, is it expensive? In s m o y How the sun burns! 9th A yonder dog - big, big! Water runs off the tongue. P I t y th Gun! just look: the barrel is double, the locks are carved... (with fear) Looks! 4th th th Be quiet, nothing! Let's stand still, Grisha! The third Will beat... _______________ My spies were frightened And they rushed away: they heard a man, So a flock of sparrows fly from the chaff. I calmed down, narrowed my eyes - they appeared again, Eyes flash through the cracks. What happened to me - they marveled at everything And my sentence was pronounced: - Such a goose, what a hunt! I would lie on the stove! And you can see not the gentleman: how he was driving from the swamp, So next to Gavrila ... - "Hear, be silent!" _______________ O dear rascals! Who often saw them, He, I believe, loves peasant children; But even if you hated them, Reader, how low class people, "- I still have to admit openly, That I often envy them: In their lives, so much poetry is merged, As God forbid your spoiled children. Happy people! Neither science nor bliss They know in childhood. I made mushroom raids with them: I dug up the leaves, ransacked the stumps, I tried to notice a mushroom place, And in the morning I could not find it for anything. “Look, Savosya, what a ring!” We both bent down, and at once grab the Snake! I jumped: it hurt! Savosya laughs: “Caught for nothing!” But then we ruined them enough And put them side by side on the railing of the bridge. We must have been waiting for the feats of glory. We had a big road: People of working rank scurried along it without number. A ditch digger from Vologda, a tinker, a tailor, a wool beater, And then a city dweller goes to a monastery to pray on a holiday. Under our thick ancient elms Weary people were drawn to rest. The guys will surround: stories about Kyiv, about a Turk, about wonderful animals will begin. Another will take a walk, so just hold on - It will start from Volochok, it will reach Kazan" He mimics Chukhna, Mordovians, Cheremis, And amuses with a fairy tale, and twists a parable: "Farewell, guys! Try better to please God in everything: We had Vavilo, lived richer of all, Yes, I once thought of grumbling at God, - Since then, Vavilo has become shabby, ruined, No honey from bees, harvest from the earth, And only in one thing he was happy, That the hair from his nose grew rapidly ... "The worker will arrange, decompose shells - Planers, files, chisels, knives: "Look, little devils!" And the children are happy, How you saw, how you tinker - show them everything. A passer-by will fall asleep under their jokes, The guys get down to business - sawing and planing! They step out a saw - you can’t sharpen it even in a day! They break a drill - and run away in fright. the days flew by, - Like a new passerby, then a new story ... Wow, it's hot! Desert river Like porcini mushrooms in a forest clearing! The river resounded with laughter and howling: Here a fight is not a fight, a game is not a game ... And the sun is scorching them with the midday heat. - Home, children! It's time to dine. a basket, And how many stories! lava, where the uterus beats the linen, Who nurses the sister, the two-year-old Glashka, Who drags the kvass for the harvest, And he, having tied his shirt under his throat, Mysteriously draws something in the sand; That one hid in a puddle, and this one with a new one: She wove herself a glorious wreath, Everything is white, yellow, pale purple Yes, occasionally a red flower. Those sleep in the sun, those dance squatting. Here is a girl catching a horse with a basket - She caught it, jumped up and rides on it. And is she, born under the heat of the sun And brought home in an apron from the field, To be afraid of her humble horse? And there are raspberries, lingonberries, walnuts! A childish cry, repeated by an echo, Rattles through the woods from morning till night. Frightened by singing, hooting, laughter, Will the black grouse take off, croaking to the chicks, Will the hare jump up - sodom, turmoil! Here is an old capercaillie with a slick wing. The living are dragged to the village in triumph... - Enough, Vanyusha! You walked a lot, It's time to work, dear! - But even work will turn first To Vanyusha with its elegant side: He sees how his father fertilizes the field, How he throws grain into the loose earth, How the field then begins to turn green, How the ear grows, pours the grain ; The finished harvest will be cut with sickles, tied into sheaves, taken to the barn, dried, beaten, beaten with flails, at the mill they will grind and bake bread. A child will taste fresh bread And in the field he more willingly runs after his father. Will they wind up the senets: “Climb, little shooter!” Vanyusha enters the village as a tsar... However, it would be a pity for us to sow envy in a noble child. So, by the way, we are obliged to wrap the other side of the medal. Suppose peasant child Grows freely, without learning anything, But he will grow, if God pleases, And nothing prevents him from bending. Suppose he knows the forest paths, Prancing on horseback, not afraid of water, But mercilessly eat his midges, But he is familiar with the works early ... Once, in the cold winter season, I came out of the forest; there was severe frost. I look, a horse is slowly rising up the mountain, carrying a cart of brushwood. And, marching importantly, in orderly calmness, A peasant leads the horse by the bridle In big boots, in a sheepskin sheepskin coat, In large mittens ... and himself with a fingernail! - Great, boy! - “Go past yourself!” - Painfully you are formidable, as I can see! Where are the firewood from? - “From the forest, of course; Father, you hear, cuts, and I take away. (A woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.) - What, does your father have a big family? “The family is big, but there are two people. All the men are: my father and I ...” - So there it is! And what is your name? - "Vlas". - And how old are you? - “The sixth has passed ... Well, dead!” - the little one shouted in a bass, He jerked by the bridle and walked faster. The sun shone so brightly on this picture, The child was so hilariously small, As if all this cardboard was, As if in children's theater they got me! But the boy was a living, real boy, And firewood, and brushwood, and a piebald horse, And snow lying up to the windows of the village, And a cold fire in the winter sun - Everything, everything was real Russian, With the stigma of an unsociable, deadly winter, That the Russian soul is so Excruciatingly sweet, What Russian thoughts inspire in the minds, Those honest thoughts that have no will, Which have no death - do not push, In which there is so much malice and pain, In which there is so much love! Play on, children! Grow at will! That's why you were given a red childhood, To love this meager field forever, To make it seem sweet to you forever. Keep your centuries-old heritage, Love your labor bread - And let the charm of childhood poetry Guide you into the depths of your native land! .. _______________ Now it's time for us to return to the beginning. Noticing that the guys became bolder, - “Hey, thieves are coming!” I shouted to Fingal: “They will steal, they will steal! Well, hide quickly! Fingalushka made a serious face, He buried my belongings under the hay, He hid the game with special diligence, He lay down at my feet and growled angrily. The vast area of ​​canine science was perfectly familiar to Him; He began to throw out such things that the audience could not leave the place. They wonder, they laugh! There is no fear here! They command themselves! - “Fingalka, die!” - Don't stop, Sergey! Don't push, Kuzyakha, - "Look - it's dying - look!" I myself enjoyed, lying in the hay, Their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark In the barn: it gets dark so quickly on the stage, When the storm is destined to break out. And sure enough: a blow thundered over the barn, A rain river poured into the barn, The actor burst into a deafening bark, And the audience gave an arrow! The wide door opened, creaked, Hit the wall, locked again. I looked out: a dark cloud hung just above our theater. Under heavy rain the children ran Barefoot to their village... Faithful Fingal and I waited out the storm And went out to look for great snipes.

I decided to collect in one place all the versions known to cattle famous poem Nekrasov, sorted in order from a lesser degree of hellishness to a greater degree in the opinion of cattle. Banal variants are furiously screened out.

Stock up on air so that there is something to laugh at. So...

I left the house to take a shit in the cold.

A boy pulling a mare by the tail.

Hello boy!
- Fuck you!
- Are you cursing?
- And *** stuck?
- Where are the firewood from?
- We're clearing the barn.
Father, listen, ***
And I ran away.

Blows to the ass were heard in the forest.
- And what, does your father have a big family?
- How to eat - so fifteen,
Like *** - so two,
My father is the last bastard
Yes I.

I came out of the forest. There was intense heat.
I look, it rises slowly uphill
Ahmet Mukhamet and some firewood.
- Where are the bones from?
- We know from the forest.
Father, you hear, they cut down, and I take him away.

Once upon a time in the cold winter time
I am sitting behind bars in a damp dungeon.
I look - it rises slowly uphill
A young eagle raised in captivity.
And marching importantly with a sedate gait,
My sad comrade, waving his wing,

Bloody food pecks under the window ...

Once upon a time in the cold winter time
Great Rus' has rallied forever.
I look, it rises slowly uphill
United mighty Soviet Union.
And marching importantly, in serenity
The Great Lenin lit up our path for us.
In big boots, in a sheepskin coat
He inspired us to the path and to the exploits.

One day, in a student winter
An elf came out of the forest - there was a severe frost
Looks, rises slowly into the mountain
Loaded with Mordor rings.
Marching importantly, with a dignified gait
The little man leads the horse by the bridle,
In elven pants, short fur coat orchin
And in mittens to the ears, but without boots.
- Hello, furry!
- Get past yourself!
Painfully you are formidable, as I can see.
Where are the rings from?
- From the river, of course,
Gorlym, listen, he dives, and I take him away.
Blows to the face were heard in the forest,
Just something business - two minutes of work:
S'chas Gollum will drown the Nazgûl in the swamp,
He'll take the ring and bring it here.
- And what for you so much?
- Yes, the demand is huge:
To all the gnomes, so that they don’t get lice,
On the finger, in the nostril and in the navel of Sauron,
And Gandalf with the Balrog, so that they don't fight.
- Listen, furry, what's your name?
-Frodo.
-What year are you?
- There is already a fifty-kopeck piece.
And where do you live such freaks?
- For this - in the face, but we can eat it.
Not hot in the snow it was shaggy paws,
And Gollum in the bushes yelled very wildly.
- And Elberet! - the little one shouted obscenely,
He jerked by the bridle and walked faster.

One hot summer time
I walked along the dune; the heat was very fierce.
I look - it rises slowly uphill
A heavily laden Bactrian camel.

And marching important, like a horse in a parade,
A Bedouin leads a camel by the knot -
In big dudes, in a long-sleeved robe,
In a high turban, and he himself - with a carbine.

"Salaam, true believer!" "Get past yourself!"
"You are painfully formidable, as I can see!
Where did the camel come from?" "From the caravan, of course.
Father, you hear, robs, and I take away.

The call of the muezzin was heard in the distance...
"What, does your father have a rich harem?"
"The harem is rich, but only men -
My father and me. Completely fucked up!"

"And what do they call you?" "Ali Ben ***
"What year are you?" "Allah will understand!"
"Go, Satan!" he barked at the camel,
He pulled the knots and stomped forward.

Once upon a time in the cold winter time
horse with loud groans uphill
dragged, farted, *** cart.
And it was in the yard, damn it, not just frost,
and *** your mother somewhere hundred degrees.
And next to a guy in a *** coat
with an icicle in her nose helped her with a whip,
covering the black eye with the other hand.
- Hello, boy!
"Fuck yourself ***
- Wow! Well, you are arrogant, damn it, I'll take a look ...
Where is the horse from?
*** fucked up.
Father, do you hear, *** And I'm taking it."
(Horse thief whistles were heard in the village)
- Does your father have a big family?
"The family is big ... Do you need those ***?
What the hell are you, Malakhov? *** ***
- Well, don't be angry... What's your name?
"Lena." "So you're a fucking girl?"
"And you - ***
And crushing a loose snowdrift with a knee,
whipped the horse. And disappeared from sight.

Once upon a time in the cold winter time
I did not walk on foot, like a "goof", through the forests
On my "jeep" I went uphill
Suddenly - a load of brushwood, from around the corner!

Went to investigate. In serenity
A man is leading a horse by the bridle
He "jeep" slightly hooked on the barrel
It's a shame, however, for the peeled side

"You got it, goat!" "Yes, I was driving past ..."
"Yes, you are without money, as I see it!
Where are the firewood from? ""From the forest, of course ..."
"Don't be afraid, I'm doing everything right!

I will not fully "load" the lumberjack!
Not getting paid? Big family? "
"The family is big. There are two people in it
One of them is me, and the other one is me too! "

Daughter in the 3rd grade, teaches an excerpt from the poem by N. Nekrasov (supposedly) "Peasant Children":

Once upon a time in the cold winter time

I came out of the forest; there was severe frost.

I look, it rises slowly uphill

Horse carrying firewood.

And marching importantly, in serenity,

A man is leading a horse by the bridle

In big boots, in a sheepskin coat,

In big mittens ... and himself with a fingernail!

"Hey boy!" - "Go past yourself!" -

"You are painfully formidable, as I can see!

Where are the firewood from?" - "From the forest, of course;

Father, you hear, cuts, and I take away.

(The woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.)

"Does your father have a big family?"

"The family is big, yes two people

All the men, something: my father and I ... "-

"So that's it! What's your name?" -

"Vlasom." - "And what year are you?" - "The sixth passed ...

Well, dead!" - shouted the little one in a bass voice,

He jerked by the bridle and walked faster.

The analysis in the head turns on automatically: a six-year-old child cannot lead a horse by the bridle:

1. Small in stature and he will have to keep his arm outstretched all the time, which is impossible in a sheepskin coat (and without it).

2. The step of the horse (especially with a load) is wider than the step of the child and, in order not to fall under the hooves and not get hit by the shafts in the back of the head, he must run ahead of the horse, which is impossible in “big boots” and in a “sheepskin short coat” and on loose snow .

Or maybe the poet slightly corrected reality for the sake of rhyme and the little man leads the horse not by the bridle, but by the rein on the side of the sleigh?

But this is also not possible:

At that time, there were no municipal services and equipment, and no one cleaned the road, which means that it was not a road, but a sledge track, on the sides of which there were snowdrifts that you couldn’t walk on.

It is also not clear what the poet was doing in the forest in the icy winter season and in severe frost? Did you draw inspiration or were people drawn to woodcutters?

And about the lumberjack himself: you shouldn’t have taken a child with you to work in such weather: medicine was only folk medicine ...

Wife: "Don't split your child's consciousness! She will be expelled from school!"

Reviews

The daily audience of the Proza.ru portal is about 100 thousand visitors, who total amount view more than half a million pages according to the traffic counter, which is located to the right of this text. Each column contains two numbers: the number of views and the number of visitors.