Fairy tale old year maxim bitter. Maxim bitter - the old year

Old year

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties before his face and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the moment New Year's birth. It was the same yesterday - in the evening, strange and indefinite creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year, creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we still cannot imagine clearly. Hypocrisy, hand in hand with Humility, came first of all, followed by Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was the Mind, and although in its deep and penetrating eyes much self-pride sparkled, but even more was their longing for their impotence. Lyubov followed him, a half-dressed and very rude woman, with eyes full of sensuality and not a spark of thought. Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper: - Oh Love! How are you dressed! Fi, does this suit suit your role in life? -- Ba! - answered Suemudria, - what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, that's what I'll say. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear off the veils of fantasy from Love, in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on the earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it? And Love itself was silent - its language has long been almost mute, it has no former ardent words, its desires are rude, and its blood is thin and cold. Vera also appeared, a broken and wavering being. She threw a glance of irreconcilable hatred towards the Mind and imperceptibly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that came to the Old Year. Then behind her, like a spark, Nadezhda flashed, flashed and disappeared somewhere. Then came Wisdom. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, adorned with a mass of fake stones, and as bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was dark and sad. And then Despondency came, and everyone respectfully bowed to him, because it is in honor of Time. Truth came last, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad, she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, went into a corner and sat there alone. The Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned Mephisto's grin. - Hello and goodbye! he said. - Farewell, because I am dying, as it is prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the anguish of my pale life. It's so boring to always live, dealing only with you! I sincerely pity you - you are immortal. And for that I also regret that on my birthday all of you were stronger, fresher and whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you - human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I pity you and people. And the Old Year grinned and then again, having examined the guests, asked Vera: - Vera! Where is your strength, which moved people to exploits and spiritualized life? "He robbed me!" Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Um. “I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power. In the fight against her I squandered best forces my! Um responded angrily. "Don't quarrel, you unfortunates!" - the dying Old Man smiled impassively again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and outdated. How sickening must it be to be human and deal with you day after day for so many years? Who's that shaking their head in the affirmative? Oh, it's you, it's true! You are still the same ... not in honor of people ... Well, what? .. Farewell, my former companions. Farewell, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don't see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the originality? “She has been gone from the earth for a long time,” Pravda answered timidly. - Poor earth! said Old Year. How boring she is! People are miserable and colorless if they have lost the originality of thoughts, feelings, and actions. “They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty,” Pravda complained quietly. - What's wrong with them? asked Old Year thoughtfully. “They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts…” Pravda explained. Do they die too? said Old Year. “No,” Truth said. - They are still alive. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live. Old Year laughed coldly. -- It's time! Another minute, and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Goodbye again and for the last time. I pity you, I pity that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I pity you and people. First hit! Two... What is it? Striking twice, the clock stopped beating. Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange. Someone, with wings on his head and on his feet, stood at the clock, beautiful as one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death. “I am Mercury and sent hither from Eternity,” he said. She said why New Year old people? Tell them there won't be a New Year until the new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change clothes from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live. "But this is torture!" said the Old Man. - Stay you! ' said Mercury inexorably. - And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will stay with them, Old Man! So said Eternity - live! And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity ... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten deaf blows into the silence of amazement. And the Old Year, dying with triumph, was left to live again with Despondency, smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face. The guests of the Old Year dispersed quietly and sadly. And Hope, leaving, was silent, and Hypocrisy, expressing sorrow on her face, flirted with Super-wisdom, saying something about Mind, something about Patience, and, speaking, everything was afraid that Despondency would overhear the speeches him and did not reprimand him for his speeches. And finally, everyone left. Only the Old Year remained, already dressed in the dress of the New, yes, the Truth is always and everywhere the last!

Gorky Maxim

Old year(Fairy tale)

A.M. Gorky

Old year. Fairy tale

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties before his face and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.

It was the same yesterday - in the evening, strange and indefinite creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year, creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we still cannot imagine clearly.

Hypocrisy, hand in hand with Humility, came first of all, followed by Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was the Mind, and although in its deep and penetrating eyes there are many self-pride sparkled, but even more was their longing for their impotence.

Lyubov followed him, a half-dressed and very rude woman, with eyes full of sensuality and not a spark of thought.

Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:

O love! How are you dressed! Fi, does this suit suit your role in life?

Ba! - responded Suemudria, - what do you want from Love, ma'am? You have always been and still remain a romantic, that's what I'll say. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear off the veils of fantasy from Love, in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on the earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?

And Love herself was silent - her language has long been almost mute, she has no former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is thin and cold.

Faith also appeared - a broken and wavering being. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred in the direction of Mind and imperceptibly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that came to the Old Year.

Then behind her, like a spark, Nadezhda flashed, flashed and disappeared somewhere.

Then came Wisdom. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, adorned with a mass of fake stones, and as bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was dark and sad.

And then Despondency came, and everyone respectfully bowed to him, because it is in honor of Time.

Truth came last, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad, she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, went into a corner and sat there alone.

The Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned Mephisto's grin.

Hello and goodbye! he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the anguish of my pale life. It's so boring to always live, dealing only with you! I sincerely pity you - you are immortal. And for that I also regret that on my birthday all of you were stronger, fresher and whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you - human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I pity you and people.

And the Old Year grinned, and then again, after examining the guests, he asked Vera:

Faith! Where is your strength, which moved people to exploits and spiritualized life?

Maksim Gorky

Old year

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties before his face and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fatal moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.

It was the same yesterday - in the evening, strange and indefinite creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year, creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we still cannot imagine clearly.

Hypocrisy, hand in hand with Humility, came first of all, followed by Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was the Mind, and although in its deep and penetrating eyes there are many self-pride sparkled, but even more was their longing for their impotence.

Lyubov followed him, a half-dressed and very rude woman, with eyes full of sensuality and not a spark of thought.

Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:

- O love! How are you dressed! Fi, does this suit suit your role in life?

- Ba! – responded Suemudria, – what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, that's what I'll say. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear off the veils of fantasy from Love, in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on the earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?

But Love herself was silent - her language has long been almost mute, she has no former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is thin and cold.

Vera also appeared, a broken and wavering being. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred in the direction of Mind and imperceptibly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that came to the Old Year.

Then behind her, like a spark, Nadezhda flashed, flashed and disappeared somewhere.

Then came Wisdom. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, adorned with a mass of fake stones, and as bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was dark and sad.

And then Despondency came, and everyone respectfully bowed to him, because it is in honor of Time.

Truth came last, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad, she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, went into a corner and sat there alone.

The Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned Mephisto's grin.

- Hello and goodbye! he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the anguish of my pale life. It's so boring to always live, dealing only with you! I sincerely pity you - you are immortal. And for that I also regret that on my birthday all of you were stronger, fresher and whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you - human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I pity you and people.

And the Old Year grinned, and then again, after examining the guests, he asked Vera:

- Faith! Where is your strength, which moved people to exploits and spiritualized life?

- He robbed me! Vera said muffledly, pointing in the direction of Mind.

“I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power. In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! Um responded angrily.

"Don't quarrel, you unfortunates!" - the dying Old Man smiled impassively again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and outdated. How sickening must it be to be human and deal with you day after day for so many years? Who's that shaking their head in the affirmative? Oh, it's you, it's true! You are still the same ... not in honor of people ... Well, what? .. Farewell, my former companions. Farewell, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don't see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the originality?

“She hasn’t been on earth for a long time,” Pravda answered timidly.

- Poor earth! – regretted the Old Year. How boring she is! People are miserable and colorless if they have lost the originality of thoughts, feelings, and actions.

“They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty,” Pravda complained quietly.

– What about them? – thoughtfully asked the Old Year.

“They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts…” Pravda explained.

Do they die too? - Old Year was amazed.

“No,” Truth said. - They are still alive. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live.

Old Year laughed coldly.

- It's time! Another minute, and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Goodbye again and for the last time. I pity you, I pity that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I pity you and people. First hit! Two…

Striking twice, the clock stopped beating.

Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange.

Someone, with wings on his head and on his feet, stood at the clock, beautiful as one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death.

“I am Mercury and sent here from Eternity,” he said. - She said - why the New Year to the old people? Tell them there won't be a New Year until the new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change clothes from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live.

But this is torture! said the Old Man.

- You stay! – adamantly repeated Mercury. - And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will stay with them, Old Man! So said Eternity - live!

And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity ... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten deaf blows into the silence of amazement.

And the Old Year, dying with triumph, was left to live again with Despondency, smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face.

The guests of the Old Year dispersed quietly and sadly.

And Nadezhda, leaving, was silent, and Hypocrisy, expressing sorrow on her face, flirted with Super-wisdom, saying something to him about Mind, something about Patience, and, speaking, everything was afraid that Despondency would overhear his speeches and did not reproach him for his speeches.

And finally, everyone left.

Only the Old Year remained, already dressed in the dress of the New, yes True

Gorky Maxim

Old Year (Fairy Tale)

A.M. Gorky

Old year. Fairy tale

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties before his face and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.

It was the same yesterday - in the evening, strange and indefinite creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year, creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we still cannot imagine clearly.

Hypocrisy, hand in hand with Humility, came first of all, followed by Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was the Mind, and although in its deep and penetrating eyes there are many self-pride sparkled, but even more was their longing for their impotence.

Lyubov followed him, a half-dressed and very rude woman, with eyes full of sensuality and not a spark of thought.

Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:

O love! How are you dressed! Fi, does this suit suit your role in life?

Ba! - responded Suemudria, - what do you want from Love, ma'am? You have always been and still remain a romantic, that's what I'll say. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear off the veils of fantasy from Love, in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on the earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?

And Love herself was silent - her language has long been almost mute, she has no former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is thin and cold.

Faith also appeared - a broken and wavering being. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred in the direction of Mind and imperceptibly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that came to the Old Year.

Then behind her, like a spark, Nadezhda flashed, flashed and disappeared somewhere.

Then came Wisdom. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, adorned with a mass of fake stones, and as bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was dark and sad.

And then Despondency came, and everyone respectfully bowed to him, because it is in honor of Time.

Truth came last, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad, she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, went into a corner and sat there alone.

The Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned Mephisto's grin.

Hello and goodbye! he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the anguish of my pale life. It's so boring to always live, dealing only with you! I sincerely pity you - you are immortal. And for that I also regret that on my birthday all of you were stronger, fresher and whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you - human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I pity you and people.

And the Old Year grinned, and then again, after examining the guests, he asked Vera:

Faith! Where is your strength, which moved people to exploits and spiritualized life?

He robbed me! Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Mind.

I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power. In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! Um responded angrily.

Do not quarrel, unfortunates! - the dying Old Man smiled impassively again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and outdated. How sickening must it be to be human and deal with you day after day for so many years? Who's that shaking their head in the affirmative? Oh, it's you, it's true! You are still the same ... not in honor of people ... Well, what? .. Farewell, my former companions. Farewell, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don't see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the originality?

She's been gone for a long time on earth, - Pravda answered timidly.

Poor earth! - regretted the Old Year. How boring she is! People are miserable and colorless if they have lost the originality of thoughts, feelings, and actions.

They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty, ”Pravda complained quietly.

What's up with them? - thoughtfully asked the Old Year.

They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts... Truth explained.

Do they die too? - Old Year was amazed.

No, Truth said. - They are still alive. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live.

Old Year laughed coldly.

It's time! Another minute, and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Goodbye again and for the last time. I pity you, I pity that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I pity you and people. First hit! Two...

Striking twice, the clock stopped beating.

Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange.

Someone, with wings on his head and on his feet, stood at the clock, beautiful as one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death.

I am Mercury and sent here from Eternity, he said. - She said why the New Year old people? Tell them there won't be a New Year until the new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change clothes from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live.

But this is torture! said the Old Man.

You stay! - adamantly repeated Mercury. - And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will stay with them, Old Man! So said Eternity - live!

And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity ... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten deaf blows into the silence of amazement.

And the Old Year, dying with triumph, was left to live again with Despondency, smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face.

The guests of the Old Year dispersed quietly and sadly.

And Nadezhda, leaving, was silent, and Hypocrisy, expressing sorrow on her face, flirted with Super-wisdom, saying something to him about Mind, something about Patience, and, speaking, everything was afraid that Despondency would overhear his speeches and did not reproach him for his speeches.

And finally, everyone left.

Only the Old Year remained, already dressed in the dress of the New, but the Truth is always and everywhere the last! 1896

NOTES

First published in "Samarskaya gazeta", 1896, number 1, January 1, in the section "Little feuilleton".