Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich (1895-1940) was a prominent state and political figure in the USSR. For services to the country he had government awards: the Order of Lenin, the Order of the Red Banner. He was also awarded the badge "Honorary Chekist". On February 4, 1940, Yezhov was shot by the verdict of the Military Collegium. In January 1941, he was stripped of all titles and awards.
Rapid rise and rapid fall. In the 30s of the XX century, hundreds of thousands of party workers of the USSR experienced such a life scenario. But Nikolai Ivanovich stands alone in this endless series of people. It was he who was entrusted with the mission to destroy the Leninist guard. When he completed it, he was destroyed himself.
Yezhovshchina- so called the years 1937-1938. It was at this time that our hero was the people's commissar of internal affairs, the general commissar of state security. In this high post, Nikolai Ivanovich put Stalinist repressions into practice. That is, in fact, he was an ordinary performer, a puppet in the hands of an experienced puppeteer. The same puppets were Khrushchev, Kaganovich, Beria, Kalinin, Voroshilov and many, many thousands of other communists. Those who did not want to be content with the role of a puppet - shot themselves. An example of this is Ordzhonikidze.
Our hero did not shoot. Career motives outweighed moral and human values. Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich received almost unlimited power. He became the second person in the country, and besides, he was at the head of the entire punitive apparatus. All power structures, with the exception of the army, were in the hands of this short and pleasant-looking man. Where did he even appear on the political scene of those years?
Yezhov strangles the hydra of the counter-revolution
It was in the "hedgehogs" that Nikolai Ivanovich was portrayed in the newspapers during the Yezhovshchina
The formidable commissar of state security himself claimed to be of proletarian origin. His father worked as a simple worker in the foundry of a metallurgical plant in St. Petersburg. Our hero decided to follow in the footsteps of his parent and became an apprentice locksmith. But the archives do not confirm this. In reality, things were a little different.
Kolya's father served in the police. The young man himself, upon reaching the age of 18, did not acquire any specialty, and in 1915 he was drafted into the army and went to the front. In the summer of 1916 he was wounded and was sent to the rear, stationed in Vitebsk. In August 1917 he became a member of the RSDLP. Then he fell ill, received a long vacation and went to his parents in the Tver province.
In early 1919, Nikolai was drafted into the Red Army. Given his partisanship, he was appointed commissar of the unit. Since that time, the party career of our hero began. In 1927, Nikolai became an instructor in the Organizational Department of the Central Committee. That is, he ended up in Moscow and began to work in the apparatus of the Central Committee of the Party.
Nikolai Ivanovich has always been distinguished by high discipline, diligence and conscientiousness. He was an ideal apparatchik and felt at home among papers like a fish in water. Thanks to this gift, he rose to the position of chairman of the Party Control Commission, and then became the secretary of the Central Committee.
Why did Stalin stake precisely on Yezhov? The leader was well versed in people and apparently saw in the character of the young secretary just the qualities that he needed to carry out the bloody mission. High responsibility and thoughtless execution of instructions - that's what attracted the father of nations. Stalin did not need a sadist, he needed a conscientious performer. Our hero was just that.
Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich began his duties in the NKVD on October 1, 1936. He sat in the chair of the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs and began to steadily fulfill Stalin's will. But here it is necessary to take into account the nuance that our hero has never been responsible for any real business in his life. He only prepared documents for the authorities and established control over the execution of these same documents.
That is, he was engaged in purely formal actions. I sent the paper, set deadlines, received a paper confirming that everything was done. Gave or did not give instructions to check the execution. That's all activity. In another way, our hero simply did not know how to work, and no one could teach him.
Therefore, Yezhov waged an uncompromising struggle against the "enemies of the people" sincerely, selflessly, but only in the way he could. That is, on paper and formally. There are three correctly executed denunciations of a person - to arrest. There is only one denunciation - to leave at large. And what is the essence of the denunciation, why it was written and why - it does not matter. The paper is framed correctly, so everything is correct.
Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich (front row left) with NKVD officers. All these people were shot after the removal of the formidable people's commissar
In his formalism, our hero went so far as to begin investigative actions even against Comrade Molotov, who regularly chaired the Politburo. Why not? Were there properly executed denunciations against Molotov? Were. Therefore, you need to start a case, establish surveillance, listen to phones.
The investigators treated their work in exactly the same way as their boss. They started hundreds of thousands of cases, and Nikolai Ivanovich was only a joy. After all, this is an overfulfillment of the task, and in those years the whole country assumed increased obligations. However, regular overfulfillment soon became the planned norm. Therefore, higher rates and standards were lowered from above. In other words, the NKVD worked in exactly the same way as the entire Soviet industry. Only behind the victorious figures were not tons of coal and steel, but living people.
Yezhovshchina is considered the most powerful repression in the entire history of the USSR. 960 thousand criminal cases were opened against enemies and pests. That is, for every hundred adult men and women, there was one arrested. For the sake of objectivity, it should be noted that this figure cannot be compared with the victims of the Cultural Revolution in China or the Pol Pot regime. Which, however, in no way diminishes the guilt of Stalin and Yezhov.
Photo from a Soviet newspaper
Comrade Kalinin presents Yezhov with the Order of Lenin
However, everyone understands that unlimited power corrupts. Our hero could not resist excesses. His hidden homosexual inclinations woke up, and also there was a craving for noisy evening feasts, expensive things, jewelry. The inflexible commissar of state security began to slowly and steadily degrade.
But by this time he had already completed his main task. The Lenin Guard was destroyed, and with it flew into the furnace of the revolution and thousands of fates of innocent people. It remains only to once again state the cynicism of Stalin. In order to destroy a handful of political opponents, he staged a massacre of hundreds of thousands of people. After all, it was necessary to somehow justify ideologically the massacre of those who would never have recognized him as the leader and genius of all times and peoples.
Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich adequately fulfilled the task assigned to him. At the same time, he went too far, as he began to arrest those people who were needed by Stalin. All this caused a negative response from the leader and other members of the Politburo. The situation was aggravated by the undivided power of the formidable commissar. After all, all the punitive organs were subordinate to him, and there was no counterweight to them.
Career decline, November 1938
This serious mistake was later corrected by the Central Committee. In February 1941, the NKVD was divided into two equal departments. The NKGB and the NKVD were formed in a truncated form. After the war, the Central Committee of the CPSU finally insured itself. Inside the country, he opposed the KGB to the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and in foreign affairs, the GRU became the counterweight to the KGB. Thus, the party leaders secured themselves against a coup. Otherwise, the power minister could have taken power into his hands if no one had opposed him.
The clouds over the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs began to thicken in April 1938. The first sign was the additional position of People's Commissar of Water Transport. In August, our hero was appointed a new deputy. They became Lavrenty Beria. On November 23, 1938, Yezhov wrote a letter of resignation, and on December 9 he was relieved of his duties as head of the NKVD, leaving him in the post of People's Commissar for Water Transport. Thus ended the Yezhovschina.
The former formidable people's commissar and commissar were arrested on April 10, 1939. They were accused of preparing a coup d'état, as well as sodomy. For homosexuality in those years they were given a prison term, and for terror they were deprived of life. The death sentence of the military collegium was read out on February 3, 1940, and the next day it was carried out. They say that a moment before his death, Nikolai Ivanovich shouted: "Long live Stalin!" Maybe this is true, because in the life of the once formidable people's commissar, this man meant almost everything.
Not! and not under an alien sky
And not under the protection of alien wings, -
I was then with my people,
Where my people, unfortunately, were.
INSTEAD OF FOREWORD
During the terrible years of the Yezhovshchina, I spent seventeen months in prison queues in Leningrad. Somehow, someone "recognized" me. Then the blue-lipped woman standing behind me, who, of course, had never heard my name in her life, woke up from the stupor characteristic of all of us and asked in my ear (everyone there spoke in a whisper):
- Can you describe this?
And I said
Then something like a smile flickered across what had once been her face.
DEDICATION
Mountains bend before this grief,
The great river does not flow
But the prison gates are strong,
And behind them "convict holes"
And deadly sadness.
For someone the fresh wind blows,
For someone, the sunset basks -
We don't know, we're the same everywhere
We hear only the hateful rattle of the keys
Yes, steps are heavy soldiers.
We got up as if for an early mass,
We walked through the wild capital,
They met there, the dead lifeless,
The sun is lower and the Neva is foggy,
And hope sings in the distance.
The verdict ... And immediately the tears will gush,
Already separated from everyone
As if life is taken out of the heart with pain,
As if rudely overturned,
But it goes... It staggers... Alone.
Where are the unwitting girlfriends now
My two crazy years?
What does it seem to them in the Siberian blizzard,
What does it seem to them in the lunar circle?
To them I send my farewell greetings.
INTRODUCTION
It was when I smiled
Only the dead, happy with peace.
And swayed with an unnecessary pendant
Near the prisons of their Leningrad.
And when, mad with torment,
There were already condemned regiments,
And a short parting song
Locomotive whistles sang,
The death stars were above us
And innocent Russia writhed
Under the bloody boots
And under the tires of black marus.
They took you away at dawn
Behind you, as if on a takeaway, I walked,
Children were crying in the dark room,
At the goddess, the candle swam.
Icons on your lips are cold,
Death sweat on the brow... Don't forget!
I will be like archery wives,
Howl under the Kremlin towers.
Autumn 1935, Moscow
The quiet Don flows quietly,
The yellow moon enters the house.
He enters with a cap on one side.
Sees the yellow moon shadow.
This woman is sick
This woman is alone.
Husband in the grave, son in prison,
Pray for me.
No, it's not me, it's someone else suffering
I couldn't do that, but what happened
Let the black cloth cover
And let them carry the lanterns ...
I would show you, mocker
And the favorite of all friends,
Tsarskoye Selo merry sinner,
What will happen to your life
Like a three hundredth, with a transmission,
Under the Crosses you will stand
And with my hot tear
New Year's ice to burn.
There the prison poplar sways,
And not a sound - but how much is there
Innocent lives are ending...
I've been screaming for seventeen months
I'm calling you home
I threw myself at the feet of the executioner,
You are my son and my horror.
Everything is messed up,
And I can't make out
Now who is the beast, who is the man,
And how long to wait for the execution.
And only lush flowers,
And the ringing of the censer, and traces
Somewhere to nowhere
And looks straight into my eyes
And threatened with imminent death
Huge star.
Easy flying weeks.
What happened, I don't understand
How do you, son, go to jail
White nights looked
How do they look again?
With a hawk's hot eye,
About your high cross
And they talk about death.
Spring 1939
SENTENCE
And the stone word fell
On my still living chest.
Nothing, because I was ready
I'll deal with it somehow.
I have a lot to do today:
We must kill the memory to the end,
It is necessary that the soul turned to stone,
We must learn to live again.
But not that ... Hot rustle of summer
Like a holiday outside my window.
I've been anticipating this for a long time.
Bright day and empty house.
You will come anyway - why not now?
I'm waiting for you - it's very difficult for me.
I turned off the light and opened the door
You, so simple and wonderful.
Take any form for this,
Break in with a poisoned projectile
Or sneak up with a weight like an experienced bandit,
Or poison with a typhoid child.
Or a fairy tale invented by you
And everyone is sickeningly familiar, -
So that I can see the top of the blue hat
And the house manager, pale with fear.
I don't care now. The Yenisei swirls
The polar star is shining.
And the blue sparkle of beloved eyes
The last horror covers.
Already madness wing
Soul covered half
And drink fiery wine
And beckons to the black valley.
And I realized that he
I must give up the victory
Listening to your
Already as if someone else's delirium.
And won't let anything
I take it with me
(No matter how you ask him
And no matter how you bother with a prayer)!
Not a son of terrible eyes -
petrified suffering,
Not the day when the storm came
Not an hour of prison rendezvous,
Not the sweet coolness of hands,
Not linden agitated shadows,
Not a distant light sound -
Words of last consolation.
CRUCIFICATION
“Do not cry for Me, Mati, you are sighted in the coffin”
1
The choir of angels glorified the great hour,
And the heavens went up in flames.
He said to his father: “Almost left me!”
And Mother: “Oh, don’t cry for Me…”
2
She said: "I come here as if I were home."
I would like to name everyone
Yes, the list was taken away, and there is nowhere to find out.
For them I wove a wide cover
Of the poor, they have overheard words.
I remember them always and everywhere,
I will not forget about them even in a new trouble,
And if my exhausted mouth is clamped,
To which a hundred million people shout,
May they also remember me
On the eve of my memorial day.
And if ever in this country
They will erect a monument to me,
I give my consent to this triumph,
But only with the condition - do not put it
Not near the sea where I was born:
The last connection with the sea is broken,
Not in the royal garden at the treasured stump,
Where the inconsolable shadow is looking for me,
And here, where I stood for three hundred hours
And where the bolt was not opened for me.
Then, as in blissful death I fear
Forget the rumble of black marus,
Forget how hateful the door slammed
And the old woman howled like a wounded animal.
And let from motionless and bronze eyelids,
Like tears, melted snow flows,
And let the prison dove roam in the distance,
And the ships are quietly moving along the Neva.
March 1940, Fountain House
Between 1935 and 1940, the Requiem was created, published only half a century later, in 1987, and reflecting the personal tragedy of Anna Akhmatova - the fate of her and her son Lev Nikolaevich Gumilev, who was illegally repressed and sentenced to death, later replaced by camps.
"Requiem" became a memorial to all the victims of Stalin's tyranny. “During the terrible years of the Yezhovshchina,” Akhmatova wrote, “I spent seventeen months in prison queues.” Hence - “I have been screaming for seventeen months, calling you home ...”
And the stone word fell
On my still living chest.
Nothing, because I was ready
I'll deal with it somehow.
I have a lot to do today:
We must kill the memory to the end,
It is necessary that the soul turned to stone,
We must learn to live again.
Lines of such tragic intensity, exposing and denouncing the despotism of Stalinism, at the time when they were created, it was dangerous to write down, it was simply impossible. Both the author himself and several close friends memorized the text, from time to time testing the strength of their memory. So the human memory for a long time turned into "paper", on which the "Requiem" was imprinted. Without "Requiem" it is impossible to fully understand either the life, or creativity, or the personality of Anna Andreevna Akhmatova. Moreover, without the "Requiem" it is impossible to comprehend the literature of the modern world and the processes that have taken place and are taking place in society.
In 1987, the literary and art magazine "October" printed "Requiem" in its entirety on its pages. So the outstanding work of Akhmatova became "public". This is a stunning document of the era based on the facts of his own biography, evidence of the trials our compatriots went through.
... Again, the funeral hour approached.
I see, I hear, I feel you...
... I would like to call everyone by name,
Yes, the list was taken away, and there is nowhere to find out ...
... I remember them always and everywhere,
I will not forget about them even in a new trouble ...
Anna Andreevna deservedly enjoys the grateful recognition of her readers, and the high significance of her poetry is well known. In strict proportion to the depth and breadth of her ideas, her voice never descends to a whisper and never rises to a scream - neither in hours of national grief, nor in hours of national triumph. Restrainedly, without screaming and anguish, in an epic dispassionate manner, it is said about the grief experienced: "Mountains bend before this grief." Anna Akhmatova defines the biographical meaning of this grief as follows: “Husband in the grave, son in prison, pray for me.” This is expressed with directness and simplicity, found only in high folklore. But it is not only a matter of personal suffering, although this alone is enough for a tragedy. It, suffering, is expanded within the framework: “No, it’s not me, it’s someone else suffering,” “And I pray not for myself alone, but for everyone who stood there with me.”
With the publication of the "Requiem" and the poems adjoining it, the work of Anna Akhmatova acquires a new historical, literary and social meaning. It is in the "Requiem" that the poet's laconism is especially noticeable. Except for the prose "Instead of a Preface", there are only about two hundred lines. And Requiem sounds like an epic.
The text consists of ten poems, a prose preface called by Akhmatova "Instead of Preface", "Dedication", "Introduction" and a two-part "Epilogue". The "Crucifixion" included in the "Requiem" also consists of two parts. The poem "So it was not in vain that we had troubles together ...", written later, is also related to the "Requiem". From it, Anna Andreevna took the words: “No, and not under an alien sky ...” as an epigraph, since, according to the poetess, they set the tone for the entire poem, being its musical and semantic key.
The "Requiem" has a vital basis, which is extremely clearly stated in the small prose part "Instead of a Preface". Already here, the inner goal of the whole work is clearly felt - to show the terrible years of Yezhov's reign. And this is the story. Together with other suffering Akhmatova stood in the prison queue.
She says: “Someone 'identified' me once. Then a woman with blue lips standing behind me, who, of course, had never heard my name in her life, woke up from the stupor characteristic of all of us and asked in my ear (everyone there spoke in a whisper):
- Can you describe it?
And I said
- I can.
Then something like a smile flickered across what had once been her face.
Here is how Akhmatova describes the depth of this grief:
Mountains bend before this grief,
The great river does not flow...
We only hear the hateful rattle of the keys ...
Yes, the steps are heavy soldiers ...
They walked wild through the capital ..
And innocent Rus writhed.
The words “Rus writhed” and “wild capital” with the utmost accuracy convey the suffering of the people, carry a great ideological load. The work also contains specific images. Here is one of the doomed, whom the “black marusi” take away at night, she also means her son:
Icons on your lips are cold,
Death sweat on the brow.
He was taken away at dawn. Dawn is the beginning of the day, and here dawn is the beginning of uncertainty and deep suffering. Suffering not only of the outgoing, but also of those who followed him "as if to take away." And even the folklore principle does not smooth out, but emphasizes the acuteness of the experiences of the innocently doomed. In the Requiem, a melody suddenly and sadly appears, vaguely reminiscent of a lullaby:
The Quiet Don flows quietly,
The yellow moon enters the house,
Enters in a cap on one side,
Sees the yellow moon shadow.
This woman is sick.
This woman is alone.
Husband in the grave, son in prison,
Pray for me.
The motif of the lullaby with an unexpected and semi-delusional image of the quiet Don prepares another, even more terrible motif - the motif of madness, delirium and complete readiness for death or suicide:
Already madness wing
Soul covered half
And drink fiery wine
And beckons to the black valley.
The "Epilogue", which consists of two parts, first returns the reader to the melody and the general meaning of the "Preface" and "Dedication". Here we again see the image of the prison queue, but already, as it were, generalized, symbolic, not as specific as at the beginning of the poem:
I learned how faces fall,
How fear peeks out from under the eyelids,
Like cuneiform hard pages
Suffering is brought out on the cheeks ..
And then there are these lines:
I would like to name everyone
Yes, the list was taken away, and there is nowhere to find out.
For them I wove a wide veil.
Of the poor, they have overheard words
"Requiem" by Akhmatova is a truly folk work. And not only in the sense that he reflected and expressed the great folk tragedy, but also in his poetic form, close to a folk parable. Weaved from simple, “overheard,” as Akhmatova writes, words, he expressed his time and the suffering soul of the people with great poetic and civic power. "Requiem" was not known either in the 1930s or in subsequent years, but it captured its time forever and showed that poetry continued to exist even when, according to Akhmatova, "the poet lived with his mouth shut." The strangled cry of a hundred million people was heard - this is the great merit of Anna Akhmatova.
No, and not under an alien sky,
And not under the protection of alien wings, -
I was then with my people,
Where my people, unfortunately, were.
1961
Instead of a preface
In the terrible years of Yezhovshchina, I spent seventeen months
in prison queues in Leningrad. Once upon a time someone
"recognized" me. Then the woman standing behind me, who,
of course, never heard my name, woke up from
numbness peculiar to us all and asked me in
ear (there everyone spoke in a whisper):
Can you describe this?
And I said
I can.
Then something like a smile slipped across what
once was her face.
Mountains bend before this grief,
The great river does not flow
But the prison gates are strong,
And behind them "convict holes"
And deadly sadness.
For someone the fresh wind blows,
For someone, the sunset basks -
We don't know, we're the same everywhere
We hear only the hateful rattle of the keys
Yes, steps are heavy soldiers.
We got up as if for an early mass,
We walked through the wild capital,
They met there, the dead lifeless,
The sun is lower and the Neva is more foggy,
And hope sings in the distance.
The verdict ... And immediately the tears will gush,
Already separated from everyone
As if life is taken out of the heart with pain,
As if rudely overturned,
But it goes... It staggers... Alone...
Where are the unwitting girlfriends now
My two crazy years?
What does it seem to them in the Siberian blizzard,
What does it seem to them in the lunar circle?
To them I send my farewell greetings.
Introduction
It was when I smiled
Only the dead, happy with peace.
And swayed with an unnecessary pendant
Near the prisons of their Leningrad.
And when, mad with torment,
There were already condemned regiments,
And a short parting song
Locomotive whistles sang,
The death stars were above us
And innocent Russia writhed
Under the bloody boots
And under the tires of black marus.
They took you away at dawn
Behind you, as if on a takeaway, I walked,
Children were crying in the dark room,
At the goddess, the candle swam.
Icons on your lips are cold.
Don't forget the sweat of death on your forehead.
I will be like archery wives,
Howl under the Kremlin towers.
The quiet Don flows quietly,
The yellow moon enters the house.
Enters in a cap on one side,
Sees the yellow moon shadow.
This woman is sick
This woman is alone
Husband in the grave, son in prison,
Pray for me.
No, it's not me, it's someone else suffering.
I couldn't do that, but what happened
Let the black cloth cover
And let them carry the lanterns ...
Night.
I would show you, mocker
And the favorite of all friends,
Tsarskoye Selo merry sinner,
What will happen to your life
Like a three hundredth, with a transmission,
Under the Crosses you will stand
And with my hot tear
New Year's ice to burn.
There the prison poplar sways,
And not a sound but how much is there
Innocent lives are ending...
I've been screaming for seventeen months
I'm calling you home.
I threw myself at the feet of the executioner,
You are my son and my horror.
Everything is messed up,
And I can't make out
Now who is the beast, who is the man,
And how long to wait for the execution.
And only dusty flowers
And the ringing of the censer, and traces
Somewhere to nowhere
And looks straight into my eyes
And threatened with imminent death
Huge star.
Easy weeks fly
What happened, I don't understand.
How do you, son, go to jail
White nights looked
How do they look again?
With a hawk's hot eye,
About your high cross
And they talk about death.
Sentence
And the stone word fell
On my still living chest.
Nothing, because I was ready
I'll deal with it somehow.
I have a lot to do today:
We must kill the memory to the end,
It is necessary that the soul turned to stone,
We must learn to live again.
But not that ... The hot rustle of summer,
Like a holiday outside my window.
I've been anticipating this for a long time.
Bright day and empty house.
You will come anyway why not now?
I'm waiting for you it's very difficult for me.
I turned off the light and opened the door
You, so simple and wonderful.
Take any form for this,
Break in with a poisoned projectile
Or sneak up with a weight like an experienced bandit,
Or poison with a typhoid child.
Or a fairy tale invented by you
And everyone is sickeningly familiar, -
So that I can see the top of the blue hat
And the house manager, pale with fear.
I don't care now. The Yenisei swirls
The polar star is shining.
And the blue sparkle of beloved eyes
The last horror covers.
Already madness wing
Soul covered half
And drink fiery wine
And beckons to the black valley.
And I realized that he
I must give up the victory
Listening to your
Already as if someone else's delirium.
And won't let anything
I take it with me
(No matter how you ask him
And no matter how you bother with a prayer):
Not a son of terrible eyes -
petrified suffering,
Not the day when the storm came
Not an hour of prison rendezvous,
Not the sweet coolness of hands,
Not linden agitated shadows,
Not a distant light sound -
Words of last consolation.
crucifixion
Do not cry for me, Mati,
I exist in the grave.
I
The choir of angels glorified the great hour,
And the heavens went up in flames.
Father said: "Almost left me!"
And mothers: "Oh, don't cry for me..."
Magdalene fought and sobbed,
The beloved student turned to stone,
And to where silently Mother stood,
So no one dared to look.
I learned how faces fall,
How fear peeks out from under the eyelids,
Like cuneiform hard pages
Suffering brings out on the cheeks,
Like curls of ashen and black
Suddenly become silver
The smile withers on the lips of the submissive,
And fear trembles in a dry laugh.
And I'm not praying for myself alone
And about everyone who stood there with me,
And in the bitter cold, and in the July heat
Under the blinding red wall.
Again the hour of the funeral approached.
I see, I hear, I feel you:
And the one that was barely brought to the window,
And the one that does not trample the earth, dear,
And the one that, beautifully shaking her head,
She said: "I come here as if I were home."
I would like to name everyone
Yes, the list was taken away, and there is nowhere to find out.
For them I wove a wide cover
Of the poor, they have overheard words.
I remember them always and everywhere,
I will not forget about them even in a new trouble,
And if my exhausted mouth is clamped,
To which a hundred million people shout,
May they also remember me
On the eve of my memorial day.
And if ever in this country
They will erect a monument to me,
I give my consent to this triumph,
But only with the condition do not put it
Not near the sea where I was born:
The last connection with the sea is broken,
Not in the royal garden at the treasured stump,
Where the inconsolable shadow is looking for me,
And here, where I stood for three hundred hours
And where the bolt was not opened for me.
Then, as in blissful death I fear
Forget the rumble of black marus,
Forget how hateful the door slammed
And the old woman howled like a wounded animal.
And let from motionless and bronze eyelids
Like tears flowing melted snow,
And let the prison dove roam in the distance,
And the ships are quietly moving along the Neva.
On the creative style of the writer. About birth. Averchenko undergoes surgery to remove an eye. Satyricon. King of laughter. Irony. Rich. General history. Mixing. Averchenko's books. Writer humor. Perky "red-cheeked" humor. Averchenko is a teenager. Emigration. The story "Features from the life of Pantelei Grymzin". Reminder. Dates and titles. Adjutant. Encyclopedia of wit. Write a quote from the text. The beginning of literary activity.
"Alighieri" - Took an active part in the political life of Florence; from June 15 to August 15, 1300, he was a member of the government (he was elected to the post of prior), trying, while acting, to prevent the aggravation of the struggle between the parties of the White and Black Guelphs (see Guelphs and Ghibellines). Greed is artificial poverty. Dante Alighieri Biography. The Dante family belonged to the urban nobility of Florence. The first years of Dante's exile - among the leaders of the White Guelphs, takes part in the armed and diplomatic struggle with the winning party.
"Biography and work of Anna Akhmatova" - Personality. Statements about Anna Akhmatova. The queen is a tramp. The funeral of A. Blok. Friends. God. Akhmatova. Sayings of famous people. "Royal Word" by Anna Akhmatova. The only name. Deadly mercy. A dark-skinned youth wandered along the alleys. The main features of the lyrics. A family. Poets of the Silver Age. Rusting gold. Tsvetaeva. O. Mandelstam. The name of Anna Akhmatova. Portrait of Akhmatova. Half-nun. It is interesting.
"Writer Aksakov" - Valery Ganichev. A lesson on the work of Sergei Timofeevich Aksakov. Mikhail Chvanov. "Notes on fishing fish." "A few words about early spring and late autumn harvest." Sergei Timofeevich Aksakov was born on September 20. Memorial House - Museum of S. T. Aksakov. Sofia alley. Creative task. Anatoly Genatulin. Aksakov street. Autobiographical trilogy "Family Chronicle". Memorial Aksakov sign.
"Aitmatov "Stormy Station"" - Legend. Space history. The problem of caring. Creativity of Aitmatov. Communication problem. Boranly. Entry into literature. Buran station. Chingiz Torekulovich Aitmatov. Edigei Buranny. The problem of the novel. Poetry of the native hearth. The theme of the novel. Introduction to literature. Titles and awards. Socio-historical problem. Memory problem. The problem of humanity and mercy.
"Innokenty Annensky" - Collection of poems. Print of fragile subtlety. Biography. Annensky died on November 30, 1909. Natalya Petrovna Annenskaya. Critic. Artistic images. Poet of the Silver Age. Translations of French poets. First publications. Features of the poetic gift. Publications. Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky.
