1 Black evening. White snow. Wind, wind! A person does not stand on his feet. Wind, wind - In all God's world! The wind curls White snow. Ice under the snow. Slippery, heavy, Every walker Slips - oh, poor thing! A rope is stretched from building to building. On the rope - a poster: "All power to the Constituent Assembly!" The old woman is killing herself - crying, Doesn't understand what it means, What is such a poster for, Such a huge flap? No matter how many footcloths for the guys came out, And everyone - undressed, undressed ... The old woman, like a chicken, Somehow rewound through a snowdrift. - Oh, Mother Protector! - Oh, the Bolsheviks will drive into the coffin! The wind is biting! The frost is not far behind! And the bourgeois at the crossroads hid his nose in his collar. And who is this? - Long hair And he says in a low voice: - Traitors! - Russia is dead! It must be the writer - Vitya ... And there is the long-haired one - Sideways and beyond the snowdrift ... What is not cheerful now, Comrade pop? Do you remember how it used to be that Belly went forward, And the Belly shone like a cross on the people? There is a lady in a karakul She turned up to another: - Already we were crying, crying ... Slipped And - bam - stretched out! Hey, hey! Pull up! The wind is cheerful. And angry and happy. He twists skirts, He mows passers-by. Tears, crumples and wears a large poster: "All power to the Constituent Assembly!" And he conveys the words: ...And we had a meeting... ...Here in this building... ...Discussed - Decided: For a while - ten, for the night - twenty-five... ...And less Don't charge anyone... ...Let's go to bed... Late evening. The street is empty. One tramp Stoops, Let the wind whistle... Hey, poor fellow! Come - Let's kiss... Bread! What's ahead? Come on! Black, black sky. Malice, sad malice Boiling in the chest... Black malice, holy malice... Comrade! Look both! 2 The wind is blowing, the snow is fluttering. Twelve people are coming. Rifles black belts All around - lights, lights, lights ... A cigarette in the teeth, a cap is crushed, On the back you need an ace of diamonds! Freedom, freedom, Eh, eh, without a cross! Tra-ta-ta! Cold, comrades, cold! - And Vanka and Katya in a tavern ... - She has Kerenki in her stocking! - Vanyushka himself is now rich ... - There was our Vanka, but he became a soldier! - Well, Vanka, son of a bitch, bourgeois, Mine, try, kiss! Freedom, freedom, Eh, eh, without a cross! Katya and Vanka are busy - What, what are they busy with? .. Tra-ta-ta! All around - fires, fires, fires ... Shoulders - gun belts ... Revolutionary keep step! The restless enemy does not sleep! Comrade, hold the rifle, don't be afraid! Let's fire a bullet into Holy Rus' - into the condo, into the hut, into the fat-ass! Eh, eh, no cross! 3 How our guys went to serve in the Red Army - to serve in the Red Army - to lay down the head of the violent! Oh, you, grief-bitter, Sweet life! Ragged coat, Austrian gun! We are on the mountain to all the bourgeoisies We will inflate the world fire, The world fire in the blood - God bless! 4 The snow is spinning, the reckless driver is screaming, Vanka is flying with Katka - An electric flashlight On the shafts ... Oh, oh, fall! in a soldier's overcoat With a stupid face Twisting, twisting his black mustache, Yes, twisting, Yes, joking ... That's how Vanka - he is broad-shouldered! That's how Vanka is - he is eloquent! She hugs Katya the Fool, She speaks... She threw back her face, Her teeth sparkle with pearls... Oh, Katya, my Katya, Fat-faced... 5 On your neck, Katya, The scar has not healed from the knife. Under your breast, Katya, That scratch is fresh! Eh, eh, dance! Painful legs are good! I went in lace underwear - Walk, walk! She fornicated with officers - Get lost, get lost! Eh, eh, get lost! My heart skipped a beat! Do you remember, Katya, the officer - He did not leave the knife ... Al did not remember, cholera? Ali memory is not fresh? Eh, eh, refresh, Put to sleep with you! She wore gray leggings, ate Chocolate Mignon. With the junker went for a walk - With the soldier now went? Eh, eh, sin! It will be easier for the soul! 6 ... Again, galloping towards you, Flying, screaming, yelling scorcher ... Stop, stop! Andrew, help! Petruha, run in from behind! Snowy ashes rolled up to the sky! Cock the trigger! You will know. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . How to walk with a strange girl! .. Run away, scoundrel! Already, wait, I'll deal with you tomorrow! And where is Katya? - Dead, dead! Shot head! What, Katya, are you happy? - No gu-gu ... Lie down, you carrion, in the snow! Revolutionary keep step! The restless enemy does not sleep! 7 And again there are twelve, Behind the shoulders - a gun. Only the poor killer Can't see his face at all... Faster and faster Slows his pace. Wrapped a handkerchief around his neck - He will not recover in any way ... - What, comrade, are you not cheerful? - What, my friend, dumbfounded? - What, Petruha, hung his nose, Or did you feel sorry for Katya? - Oh, comrades, relatives, I loved this girl ... Black, intoxicated nights I spent with this girl ... - Because of the prowess of the troublesome In her fiery eyes, Because of the crimson mole Near the right shoulder, I ruined, stupid, I ruined in the heat of the moment ... ah! - Look, bastard, started the hurdy-gurdy, What are you, Petka, a woman, or what? - It is true soul inside out Thinking to turn out? Please! - Maintain your posture! - Keep control over yourself! - Not such a time now, What would babysit with you! The burden will be heavier for Us, dear comrade! And Petruha slows down Hasty steps... He tosses his head, He cheered up again... Eh, eh! Having fun is not a sin! Lock the floors, Today there will be robberies! Unlock the cellars - Now the barn is walking! 8 Oh, you woe-bitter! Boredom is boring, Mortal! I'll spend some time, I'll spend it... I'll scratch my crown, I'll scratch it... I'll peel the seeds, I'll peel it... I'll strip it with a knife, strip it! I'll drink blood For the sweetheart, Black-browed ... Rest in peace, Lord, the soul of your servant ... It's boring! 9 You can't hear the noise of the city, There is silence above the Neva tower, And there is no more policeman - Walk, guys, without wine! There is a bourgeois at the crossroads And he hid his nose in his collar. And next to him, his hair is tight, his tail between his legs is a lousy dog. The bourgeois stands like a hungry dog, stands silent, like a question. And the old world, like a rootless dog, Stands behind him, tail between his legs. 10 A blizzard broke out, Oh, blizzard, oh, blizzard! Not to see each other at all For four steps! The snow curled like a funnel, The snow rose like a column... - Oh, what a blizzard, save me! - Petka! Hey, don't lie! What saved you from the Golden Iconostasis? You are unconscious, right, Judge, think sensibly - Ali's hands are not covered in blood Because of Katya's love? - Take a revolutionary step! The restless enemy is near! Forward, forward, forward, working people! 11 ... And go without the name of the saint All twelve - into the distance. Ready for anything, Nothing to be sorry for... Their steel rifles On an invisible enemy... Into the deaf alleys, Where a blizzard dusts alone... Yes, in downy snowdrifts - You can't drag your boot... The Red Flag is beating in your eyes. A measured step is heard. Here - the Fierce enemy wakes up ... And the blizzard dusts them in the eyes Days and nights Without a break! ... Forward, forward, Working people! 12 ... Going far away with a stately step ... - Who else is there? Come out! This is the wind with a red flag. It broke out ahead ... Ahead is a cold snowdrift. - Who is in the snowdrift - come out! Only a beggar hungry dog Waddles behind ... - Get rid of you, mangy, I'll tickle with a bayonet! The old world, like a lousy dog, Fail - I'll beat you! ... Bares his teeth - the wolf is hungry - The tail is tucked - does not lag behind - The dog is cold - the dog is rootless ... - Hey, answer, who is coming? Who is waving the red flag? - Look at it, eka darkness! - Who walks there at a quick pace, Burying for all the houses? - Anyway, I'll get you, It's better to surrender to me alive! - Hey, comrade, it will be bad, Come out, let's start shooting! Fuck-tah-tah! - And only an echo Responds in the houses ... Only a blizzard with long laughter Is poured into the snow ... Fuck-tah-tah! Fuck-tah-tah! ... So they go with a sovereign step - Behind - a hungry dog. Ahead - with a bloody flag, And behind a blizzard is unknown, And unharmed from a bullet, With a gentle tread over a blizzard, A scattering of pearls of snow, In a white halo of roses - Ahead - Jesus Christ.
"Twelve" is a poem of revolution. Not only and not so much a poem describing the general atmosphere that prevails in a country that is dying after the October Revolution, but a poem of a revolution in the dying soul of the poet himself. This poem is a mockery of the "revolution", Blok in every word, in every sound makes fun of the bloody revelry of the elements in impotent rage.
Anger, sad anger
Boiling in the chest...
Black malice, holy malice...
He himself cannot influence the historical course of events in any drastic way, so he can only laugh through the pain, spitting out blood. Blok cannot (or does not want to) “speak in an undertone: Traitors! Russia is dead!”, he desperately laughs at the discrepancy between the ideals set before the “revolution” and the surrounding reality achieved by it. He laughs evilly at everyone - and at representatives of the old world - priests, bourgeois, ladies ... everyone who brought the country to a revolutionary situation, and at representatives of the so-called "new" world, insignificant personalities capable of fighting only with street girls and with shadows in the hallways.
Revolutionary keep step!
The restless enemy does not sleep!
Let's fire a bullet at Holy Rus'...
Having fun is not a sin!
Lock up the floors
Today there will be robberies!
Open cellars -
Walking now nakedness!
In the teeth of a cigarette, a cap is crushed,
On the back you need an ace of diamonds!
“Freedom, freedom, eh, eh, without a cross!” - sounds like a wild, robber cry, it is no coincidence that the author noted that “you need an ace of diamonds on your back!” - such a patch of red or yellow fabric was sewn on the back of convicts. These people “go without the name of a saint...”
What saved you from
Golden iconostasis?
Unconscious you're right
Judge, think sensibly -
Ali's hands are not blood...
They pass like an element, they rush like a blizzard, they obey only the inner desire of destruction: “We will inflate the world fire on the mountain for all bourgeois” ... to the ground, and then ... But what will happen “then” no one knows - the main thing is to quickly destroy, ruin - the author constantly compares the driving forces of the revolution with a blind element, which itself blindly destroys everything in its path and knocks others down and out of the way - “twists”.
Black evening.
White snow.
Wind, wind!
A person does not stand on his feet.
wind, wind
In all God's world!
Something blizzard broke out
Oh, blizzard, oh, blizzard!
Can't see each other at all!
In four steps!
The poem consistently uses an artistic technique based on the effect of contrast. It immediately catches the eye that the image is built in it on the alternation of motifs of night darkness and snow blizzard. This color symbolism is distinctly clear in its meaning. It marks two vital historical beginnings: low and high, lies and truth, past and future - everything that opposes both in the whole world and in every human soul. This symbolism is socially clarified, in it is a reflection and artistic generalization of real historical phenomena.
What is a snowstorm in The Twelve if not an image of “historical weather”, an image of the upheaval itself and the chaos it brought. Black evening and white snow embody in their contrast the historical storm that shook the world. White, light, snowy triumphs at the end of the poem, where it completely defeats the impenetrable darkness from which the twelve emerged. Here the author veiledly prophesies the victory of the white, light force over the black-red chaos brought by the element to which the twelve belonged.
“Twelve” is a complete triumph of the elements. She is the main character of the poem. Both the poem itself and the elements in it are united and synthetic, although independent characters with their own individual traits act within it.
Twelve Red Guards make their way through a fierce blizzard; they are “ready for anything”; they “sorry for nothing”, they are wary; they are driven forward by instinct, but they still do not fully understand the whole meaning of their struggle, their “powerful step” into the future. They are still newborns in this struggle, born together with the “new” world, born by this “new” world itself.
In the heroes of the poem, who selflessly went out to storm the old world, perhaps more from the anarchist "freemen" (active in the October days) than from the vanguard of the Petrograd working class, which, under the leadership of the Bolshevik party, ensured the victory of the revolution.
The feeling of the “take-off” of the revolution with enormous force was expressed in “The Twelve” in the motifs of a night snowstorm, gusty, sharp wind, whirling snow. These motifs run through the whole poem like the main theme in a symphony. At the same time, the wind, snow blizzard, blizzard - as dynamic images of the rebellious, raging elements - acquire a different meaning in "The Twelve" in relation to different characters of the poem. For the shadows and debris of the old world, the evil and cheerful (gloating) wind is a hostile force, ruthlessly sweeping them out of life, but for the twelve, it is their native element, they are like a product of this wind, they are the brainchild of chaos, striving for destruction. These twelve blizzards are not terrible, not dangerous. This is their native element, they go through the blizzard of the revolution, which dusts in their eyes and plays with the red flag.
The red flag appears at the end of the poem, it - this symbol of the revolution here becomes the symbol of the new cross of Russia. Russia stands at a crossroads - "behind the hungry dog", and ahead, allegedly "bright future". There is an opinion that Christ at the head of the Red Guards meant a moral blessing (for immoral deeds, pardon the pun) of the revolution, its ultimate goals and ideals. But the fact of the matter is that He was not at the head - nowhere in the poem is this said, but it is said - "ahead." We just got used to perceive that ahead, with a red flag - it means at the head, but here the situation is different, the flag here personifies the new cross of Christ, the new cross of Russia, and He is not at the head, but He is led, led to execution, to a new crucifix...
“Why did you come to disturb us? For you have come to disturb us, and you yourself know it. But do you know what will happen tomorrow? Who are you? Is that you? Or just a likeness of it. But tomorrow I will condemn and burn you at the stake, as the worst of heretics, and the same people who kissed your feet today, tomorrow, at my one wave, they will rush to rake coals to your fire. Do you know this? Yes, you may know that...” This is Dostoevsky, “The Brothers Karamazov”, a dialogue between the Grand Inquisitor and Jesus Christ.
No one needs His help, no one needs His blessing - “From what did the golden iconostasis save you?” What kind of “moral blessing” can we talk about when “... they go without the name of a saint ... they are ready for anything ...” These twelve do not need anyone’s “blessing of the revolution, its ultimate goals and ideals”, just like it was necessary for those who made the revolution. It was just that at that time it was convenient to use the verses of such a great poet, in their favor, in order to justify the revolution and bloody lawlessness, and after all, Blok himself said that there was no politics at all in his poem “The Twelve”.
Reading the poems of Alexander Blok at the beginning of the century, he himself could be called a “revolutionary” - his elements are quite bold, “populist”, but Blok was a Russian person and, like any Russian, he loved people, and like a Russian poet, he loved all people. Yes, he probably did not like some representatives of the Russian people, but in general he loved everyone that can be seen from his poems: he can scold, ridicule some purely Russian act or character, and then write at the end:
Yes, and such, my Russia,
You are dearer to me than all the edges.
These are the last lines from the poem “Sin shamelessly, soundly ...”
He loved everyone, he loved all of Russia, and the more painfully he experienced its political, economic and spiritual crisis. Blok lived through all the events that took place in Russia with her. He, along with Russia with his Rus, suffered, froze, bled, died of hunger. Not literally, of course. Alexander Blok, in his poem, feels the mood and experience of each character, he accurately conveys the emotions of each person found in the lines of The Twelve, bitterly ridiculing and showing all the insignificance of the “high goals” of the revolution, any of its parties and movements. The author in the poem shows how far the “high” ideas of the revolution are from earthly life:
From building to building
The rope is stretched.
On the rope poster:
“All power to the Constituent Assembly!”
The old woman is killed - crying,
Doesn't understand what it means
What is this poster for?
Such a huge patch?
How many footcloths would come out for the guys,
And everyone is undressed, undressed ...
Tell me, could the poet, addressing Rus' as a native woman
Oh, my Rus'! My wife!
We have a long way to go!
("Night Hours")
write seriously
Comrade, hold the rifle, don't be afraid!
Let's fire a bullet at Holy Rus'!
and with these words to bless the murder of the Motherland, Russia?
Russia, impoverished Russia,
I have your gray huts,
Your songs are windy for me -
Like the first tears of love!
("Russia")
To the condo
beaten
Into the fat ass!
Eh, eh, no cross!
("Twelve")
Back in 1908, Alexander Blok in the poem "Russia" prophesies about what he will write ten years later in "The Twelve", referring to Russia:
I can't pity you
And I carefully carry my cross ...
What kind of sorcerer do you want
Give me the beauty of the robbers!
He will lure and deceive you, -
You won't disappear, you won't perish
And only care will cloud
Well? One more concern -
With one tear the river is noisier,
And you are still the same - forest and field,
Yes, patterned to the eyebrows ...
In the October upheaval, the poet heard only one "music" - the thunderous music of the catastrophic collapse of the old world, which he had foreseen and expected for so long. Yes, he was waiting, but rather not so much the collapse of the world itself, but rather changes in the psychology of people, changes in human consciousness, improvements in the world not due to its fracture and redistribution, but due to internal changes in each person, that is, changing the world, due to changing the person himself. Therefore, Blok perceived the bloody coup proclaimed by the socialist revolution as a sudden, but already predicted and expected element. The revolution, according to Blok, is universal, universal and unstoppable. It was embodied for him with the greatest fullness in the form of an unstoppable “world fire” that broke out in Russia and will flare up more and more for a long time, transferring its centers to both the West and the East, until “until it blazes and the old world will burn to the ground." The image of the raging elements has always played a particularly significant, one might say, enormous role in Blok's poetry. Wind, storm, blizzard - all these are familiar concepts of a romantic worldview for him. In The Twelve, these images are intended to convey a sense of the raging elements of folk life. The real landscape of Petrograd, as it were, dissolves into the elements. Spontaneously, everything in the poem: not only the Red Army soldiers are an image of the elements, but also all the characters. The behavior of everyone and everyone here is unpredictable, all the actors in this situation found themselves in an unfamiliar element, they all feel like strangers in this world, and even those who take a “powerful step”, as masters of life, and they feel confident only so far they go in a crowd and with weapons, although even weapons in their hands do not betray them much confidence, since they all realize that they are temporarily in this world and any stray bullet can send them to another world ...
These “masters of life” are so cowardly that they start shooting without even seeing the enemy, shoot at the shadows, cheering themselves up with menacing cries into the darkness:
Who's waving the red flag there?
Look, it's dark!
Who walks there at a brisk pace,
Buried for all houses?
I'll get you anyway
Better surrender to me alive!
Hey comrade, it will be bad
Come on, let's start shooting!
As always, after a natural disaster, there are heaps of garbage, piles of rubble, wounded and dead. So after this revolution, many victims remained both from the representatives of the “old” world and from the representatives of the “new” world, many of whom, according to the well-known proverb: “For what they fought for, they ran into it.” Well, the so-called "garbage", after this revolution, if we perceive it as a natural disaster, we still have to rake up - the third or fourth generation after the "Twelve".
Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions. - M.: "Lokid-Press". Vadim Serov. 2003 .
See what "Revolutionary keep step, / Restless enemy does not sleep" in other dictionaries:
See revolutionary keep stride. Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions. Moscow: Locky Press. Vadim Serov. 2003 ... Dictionary of winged words and expressions
Revolutionary, revolutionary; revolutionary, revolutionary, revolutionary. 1. App. to the revolution. Revolutionary holiday. Revolutionary troops. “Revolutionary keep step! The restless enemy does not sleep! A. Blok. “... Courage is needed in the sense of readiness with ... ... Explanatory Dictionary of Ushakov
SLEEP, doze, doze, and (simple) doze, inconsistent. 1. Be in a state of half sleep, not sleeping soundly. "Well, you dozed off, closing your eyes, bayushka bay." Lermontov. "A barge hauler was dozing at the bottom of an imported boat." Nekrasov. || trans. be immobile, not ... ... Explanatory Dictionary of Ushakov
A brief formula containing one or two phrases and expressing the content of certain tasks and goals of various classes fighting among themselves in politics, economics, philosophy, literature, etc. The worldview, the politics of the class, is reflected in the class. This … Literary Encyclopedia
Alexander Alexandrovich (1880-1921) Russian poet, playwright, critic. Aphorisms, quotes Block. Biography Only great things are worth thinking about, only great tasks should be set by the writer; set boldly, without being embarrassed by your personal small forces. … … Consolidated encyclopedia of aphorisms
Do not nap- Razg. Express. Be vigilant, active; alert. The governors did not doze, But they did not have time: They used to wait from the south, looking at the army from the east (Pushkin. The Tale of the Golden Cockerel). Revolutionary keep step! The restless enemy does not sleep! (Block.… … Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language
Black evening.
White snow.
Wind, wind!
A person does not stand on his feet.
Wind, wind -
In all God's world!
Curls the wind
White snow.
Ice under the snow.
Slippery, hard
Every walker
Slides - oh, poor thing!
From building to building
The rope is stretched.
On the rope - poster:
The old woman is killed - crying,
Never understand what it means
What is this poster for?
Such a huge patch?
How many footcloths would come out for the guys,
And everyone is undressed, undressed ...
An old lady like a chicken
Somehow rewound through the snowdrift.
- Oh, Mother Protector!
- Oh, the Bolsheviks will drive into the coffin!
The wind is biting!
The frost is not far behind!
And bourgeois at the crossroads
He hid his nose in the collar.
Who is this? - long hair
And he says in a low voice:
- Traitors!
- Russia is dead!
Must be a writer
Vitiya…
And there is the long-haired one -
Sideways and behind the snowdrift ...
What is not fun today
Comrade pop?
Do you remember how it used to be
Belly walked forward
And the cross shone
Belly for the people?
There is a lady in doodle
Turned up to the other:
We've been crying, crying...
slipped
And - bam - stretched out!
Hey, hey!
Pull up!
The wind is cheerful.
And angry and happy.
Twisting the hems
Passers-by mow.
Tears, crumples and wears
Large poster:
"All power to the Constituent Assembly!"
And delivers the words:
…And we had a meeting…
…Here in this building…
... Discussed -
Resolved:
For a while - ten, for the night - twenty-five ...
... And do not take less from anyone ...
…Let's go to sleep…
Late evening.
The street is empty.
One tramp
stooping
Let the wind whistle...
Hey poor fellow!
Come -
Let's kiss...
Of bread!
What's ahead?
Come on!
Black, black sky.
Anger, sad anger
Boiling in the chest...
Black malice, holy malice...
Comrade! Look
In both!
The wind is blowing, the snow is falling.
Twelve people are coming.
Rifles black straps
All around - lights, lights, lights ...
A cigarette in the teeth, a cap is crushed,
On the back you need an ace of diamonds!
Freedom, freedom
Eh, eh, no cross!
Tra-ta-ta!
Cold, comrades, cold!
And Vanka and Katya in the tavern...
- She has Kerenki in her stocking!
Vanyushka himself is now rich ...
- There was our Vanka, but he became a soldier!
Well, Vanka, son of a bitch, bourgeois,
Mine, try, kiss!
Freedom, freedom
Eh, eh, no cross!
Katya and Vanka are busy -
What, what are you busy with?
Tra-ta-ta!
All around - lights, lights, lights ...
Shoulder - gun belts ...
Revolutionary keep step!
The restless enemy does not sleep!
Comrade, hold the rifle, don't be afraid!
Let's fire a bullet at Holy Rus' -
In the condo
Into the hut
Into the fat ass!
Eh, eh, no cross!
How did our guys go?
To serve in the Red Army -
To serve in the Red Army -
Lay down your head!
Oh you, grief-bitter,
Sweet life!
torn coat,
Austrian gun!
We are on the mountain to all bourgeois
Let's fan the world fire
World fire in the blood -
God bless!
The snow is spinning, the reckless driver is screaming,
Vanka with Katya flies -
electric flashlight
On the shafts…
Ah, ah, fall!
in a soldier's overcoat
With a stupid face
Twists, twists a black mustache,
Yes, it spins
Yes, he jokes...
So Vanka - he is broad-shouldered!
That's how Vanka is - he is eloquent!
Katka-fool hugs,
Is talking…
tilted her face,
Teeth sparkle...
Oh, you, Katya, my Katya,
Fat-faced…
On your neck, Katya,
The scar didn't heal from the knife.
Under your chest, Katya,
That scratch is fresh!
Eh, eh, dance!
Painful legs are good!
Walked in lace underwear -
Come on, come on!
She fornicated with officers -
Get lost, get lost!
Eh, eh, get lost!
My heart skipped a beat!
Do you remember, Katya, an officer -
He did not leave the knife ...
Al didn't remember, cholera?
Ali memory is not fresh?
Eh, eh, refresh
Sleep with you!
wore gray leggings,
Mignon ate chocolate.
I went for a walk with the cadet -
Have you gone with a soldier now?
Eh, eh, sin!
It will be easier for the soul!
... Again, galloping towards,
Flying, screaming, yelling scorcher ...
Stop, stop! Andrew, help!
Petruha, run from behind! ..
Fuck-tararah-tah-tah-tah-tah!
Snow dust rolled up to the sky! ..
Likhach - and with Vanka - ran away ...
One more time! Pull the trigger!..
Fuck it! You will know
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
How to walk with a strange girl! ..
Duck, scoundrel! Wait, stop
I'll deal with you tomorrow!
And where is Katya? - Dead, dead!
Shot head!
What, Katya, are you glad? - No gu-gu ...
Lie down, you carrion, in the snow!
Revolutionary keep step!
The restless enemy does not sleep!
And twelve come again
Behind him is a gun.
Only the poor killer
Can't see a face...
Everything is faster and faster
Slows down the step.
Wrapped a scarf around his neck -
It won't get better...
What, comrade, are you not cheerful?
- What, my friend, dumbfounded?
- What, Petruha, hung his nose,
Or did you feel sorry for Katya?
Oh, comrades, relatives,
I loved this girl...
The nights are black, intoxicated
With this girl spent ...
Due to the remoteness of the trouble
In her fiery eyes
Because of a crimson mole
Near the right shoulder
I ruined, stupid,
I ruined in the heat of the moment ... ah!
Look, bastard, started a hurdy-gurdy,
What are you, Petka, a woman, or what?
- True soul inside out
Thinking of turning it out? Please!
- Maintain your posture!
- Keep control over yourself!
Not such a time now
To babysit you!
The burden will be heavier
Us, dear comrade!
And Petruha slows down
Hasty steps...
He tosses his head
He cheered up again...
Eh, eh!
Having fun is not a sin!
Lock up the floors
Today there will be robberies!
Open cellars -
Walking now nakedness!
Oh you woe-bitter!
Boredom is boring
Mortal!
I'm on time
I'll go, I'll go...
I'm already dark
I'll scratch, I'll scratch...
I'm seeds
I'll get it, I'll get it...
Already I am a knife
Stripe, stripe!
You fly, bourgeois, like a little funnel!
I'll drink blood
For a sweetheart
Chernobrovushka…
Rest in peace, Lord, the soul of your servant ...
Can't hear the noise of the city
Silence over the Neva tower
And there is no more policeman -
Walk, guys, without wine!
There is a bourgeois at the crossroads
And he hid his nose in his collar.
And next to it is pressed with hard wool
A lousy dog with his tail between his legs.
There is a bourgeois, like a hungry dog,
It stands silent, like a question.
And the old world, like a rootless dog,
Standing behind him with his tail between his legs.
Something blizzard broke out
Oh, blizzard, oh, blizzard!
Can't see each other at all
In four steps!
The snow curled like a funnel,
The snow has risen...
Oh, what a blizzard, save!
- Petka! Hey, don't lie!
What saved you from
Golden iconostasis?
Unconscious you, right,
Judge, think sensibly -
Ali hands are not in the blood
Because of Katya's love?
- Take a revolutionary step!
The restless enemy is near!
Forward, forward, forward
Working people!
... And they go without the name of a saint
All twelve - away.
Ready for everything
Nothing to regret...
Their rifles are steel
To the invisible enemy...
In the alleys are deaf,
Where one dusty blizzard ...
Yes, in downy snowdrifts -
Don't take off your boots...
It beats in the eyes
Red flag.
Is distributed
Measure step.
Here - wake up
Fierce enemy...
And the blizzard dusts them in the eyes
Days and nights
All the way!…
Go-go,
Working people!
... They go far with a sovereign step ...
- Who else is there? Come out!
It's the red flag wind
Played ahead...
Ahead is a cold snowdrift.
- Who is in the snowdrift - come out!
Only a beggar dog is hungry
Wandering behind...
Get off you, mangy,
I'll tickle with a bayonet!
The old world is like a lousy dog
Fail - I'll beat you!
... Bares his teeth - the wolf is hungry -
The tail is tucked in - does not lag behind -
The dog is cold - the dog is rootless ...
- Hey, come on, who's coming?
Who's waving the red flag there?
- Look at it, eka darkness!
- Who walks there at a quick pace,
Buried for all houses?
Anyway, I'll get you
Better surrender to me alive!
- Hey, comrade, it will be bad,
Come on, let's start shooting!
Fuck-tah-tah! - And only an echo
Responds to houses...
Only a blizzard with a long laugh
Drenched in snow...
Fuck-tah-tah!
Fuck-tah-tah!
... So they go with a sovereign step -
Behind is a hungry dog.
Ahead - with a bloody flag,
And behind the blizzard is unknown,
And unharmed by a bullet
With a gentle step over the wind,
Snowy scattering of pearls,
In a white corolla of roses -
In front is Jesus Christ.
Analysis of the poem "The Twelve" by Blok
Many consider the poem "The Twelve" to be the main work in Blok's work. It was written by the poet at the beginning of 1918 and reflects his view of the Russian revolution.
Poem 12 is the original poem. It is written in an innovative style. The language of the poem is as close as possible to the illiterate "soldier of the revolution". A highly educated person is perplexed by some fragments of the poem. The extreme cynicism and frankness of the "twelve apostles of the revolution" is a characteristic feature of the verse.
The plot is based on the detour of the Red Army patrol, consisting of twelve people. People who represent the birth of a new world are cold-blooded criminals and murderers for whom nothing is sacred. They are driven by an extreme hatred of everything that symbolizes the old society. Until now, the true attitude of Blok to the created characters is not completely clear. In the memoirs and works of Soviet writers, the main characters were subjected to excessive idealization. The struggle for the construction of communism was associated only with bright and just ideas. For Blok's characters, one of the main goals is to "shoot a bullet at Holy Rus'."
The poem is oversaturated with bloodthirsty sadistic slogans and phrases: “world fire in the blood”, “shot through the head”, “I will drink blood” and many others. etc. The speech of the main characters is replete with rudeness and curses.
The patrol itself looks like a completely pointless action. The Red Army soldiers do not have any specific goal. They, like vultures, want to find any excuse for robbery or murder.
With some kind of unhealthy persistence, Blok constantly introduces Christian images into the text of his work. The number of "heroes" is equal to the number of apostles. "Black malice" is equated with "holy malice". All the monstrous deeds of the revolutionaries are accompanied by the wish "God bless!". Finally, the main symbol of Christianity, Jesus Christ, becomes the leader of the blood-drunk gang of murderers and thugs. Blok himself claimed that he simply could not find a more significant figure for this role.
The poem "The Twelve" leaves behind ambiguous feelings. Only an incorrigible fighter for a general revolution or a mentally deranged person can consider it a work glorifying the birth of a new world. It does not fall under the category of “the harsh truth of life”, if only because “a stripe with a knife, a stripe” somehow does not combine with “God rest the soul of Thy servant.” There are opinions that Blok simply mocked the new system, but he himself did not confirm this. It is known that the poet had a desire to burn his poem.
"Revolutionary keep step!
The restless enemy does not sleep!
Comrade, hold the rifle, don't be afraid!
Let's fire a bullet at Holy Rus' -
In the condo
Into the hut
Into the fat ass!
Eh, eh, no cross!"
Either the “great” October smelled, or maybe it happened in the Russian Federation (which we don’t know), but many bloggers started talking about the revolution. And not just blah blah - as about some kind of hypothetical event, but about an event that is about to come, already decided.
Blogger m_kalashnikov
gives us advice "how to survive the common man" during future rebellions. And his accomplice in the former K-25 committee, who managed to rewind the term, is Kungurov kungurov
, teaches us the theoretical part.
Venerable orientalist el_murid
and completely divides the territory of the Russian Federation, dissecting it like a medical student frog.
I dare to express my point of view.
Revolution = Re-evolution.
Thus, violating the laws of the Universe, rebelling against God. No wonder all the "revolutionaries" for centuries were atheists. And their first action was the destruction of the Church as an institution and the persecution of believers.
All revolutions were made with only one goal: the capture of the national state and its transformation into an international one, the enslavement of the indigenous people. I will emphasize again.
Revolutions have different names, as Kungurov rightly writes, and the stated goals may be different - but the goal is the same: enslavement of the native people.
The last example is Ukraine.
The revolutions in England, France, Russia, Germany and other countries were no different from the revolution in Ukraine: the main goal of the revolutionaries was to seize power and create a state in the interests of their people.
And the cover fig leaves can be different: communism, socialism, freedom, equality, fraternity, justice ....
It is interesting and sad that the hundred years allotted by history to the indigenous peoples of the former Russia for the realization of this simple truth were not enough. To this day, the population of the Russian Federation raves about revolutions and communism.
But this phenomenon has its own explanation.
No. As a Serbian saint said 800 years ago, when your land is captured by foreigners, then if you have the strength, fight. And if there is no strength, then look for another land.
I will not tire of repeating:
Today, the Society is faced with an alternative: either a national Russian state, i.e. a state in which the Russian people retain their historical position as a state-forming people.
And then Great Russia, in which all its indigenous peoples have equal legal rights, live in peace and harmony, participate in the arrangement of their common state house, and are responsible for its prosperity.
Or a multinationality, in which a chimera with "twelve languages" performs the state-forming function - and then the collapse of Russia, its disappearance from the political map of the world.
Memo to the Soviet people:
There was no Russia after 1917. There was the USSR, divided by the Bolsheviks into uluses. In the USSR, they didn’t even have their own anthem - they sang the International until 1944. The only newspaper for the Russians began to appear only in 1956 - Soviet Russia. The Russians never had their own party. The Judeo-Bolsheviks had one task: to seize the country and use the Russian people as brushwood for the world revolution.
