Not cooled down from the heat,
The July night was shining ...
And over the dull ground
A sky full of thunderstorms
Everything trembled in the lightning ...
Like heavy eyelashes
We rose above the ground ...
And through the runaway lightning
Someone's formidable apple
Sometimes they caught fire ...
Other editions and variants
5 From the lightning everything trembled
Sovr
6 Heaven sleepy eyelashes
Rout... 1852.S. 201.
7 [Unfolded at times]
Sovr... 1854. T. XLIV. S. 49 et seq. ed.
7 Revealed at times
Rout... 1852.S. 201.
10 [lit up above the ground]
Autograph - RGALI. F. 505. Op. 1. Unit xp. 29.L. 2v .;
Rout... 1852, p. 201; Sovr... 1854. T. XLIV. S. 49 et seq. ed.
COMMENTS:
Autograph - RGALI. F. 505. Op. 1. Unit xp. 29.Sheet 2 v.
First publication - Rout. 1852. S. 201, under the title "Night on the Road". Entered with date instead of title in Modern 1854. T. XLIV. S. 48–49; Ed. 1854. P. 99; Ed. 1868. P. 132; Ed. SPb., 1886. P. 160; Ed. 1900. P. 189.
Printed by autograph.
In the autograph before the text in parentheses there is a label: "dear". 7th and 10th lines are corrected. 7th: "Rise above the ground" instead of: "Opened up at times." 10th: "Sometimes on fire" instead of: "On fire above the ground." The peculiarity of the author's punctuation is an ellipsis at the end of the 2nd and 5th lines, a dash at the end of the 10th. At the end of the 7th line in the original version there was an ellipsis, after the correction Tyutchev did not put a sign.
V Modern, Ed. 1854, Ed. 1868, Ed. SPb., 1886 there is a variant of the 5th line: “Everything trembled from the lightning” (in the autograph: “Everything trembled in the lightning”). In the author's reading, the combination of the prepositional case of the noun "lightning" and the preposition "v" is an inconsistent definition, denoting the state of the night sky. After the editorial revision, the combination of the genitive case of the noun "lightning" with the preposition "from" acts as a circumstance of the cause, which distorts the independence of the image of the sky. V Raute a version of the 6th line is presented: "Heaven's sleepy eyelashes" (autographed: "Like heavy eyelashes"). Rejecting the author's construction with a comparative union and replacing the epithet, the editor impoverishes the image, makes it unambiguous. According to the original version of the autograph, the 7th line ("Unfolded from time to time") was printed in Modern, Ed. 1854, Ed. 1868, Ed. SPb., 1886. V Raute her third version was given: "Opened up at times." In all printed texts, except Ed. 1900, The 10th line corresponds to the first edition of the autograph: "We light up over the earth."
Dated on July 14, 1851. K.V. Pigarev believed that the poem was written on the way from Moscow to St. Petersburg (see. Lyrics I. P. 397).
The poem is marked by L. N. Tolstoy with the letter "K.!" (The beauty!) ( THOSE. P. 146).
Believing that the idea of chaos is the "key" to understanding Tyutchev's lyrics and defining his creative individuality, V.S. such phenomena as a stormy sea or a night thunderstorm depend precisely on the fact that "chaos moves under them." In the depiction of all these natural phenomena, where its dark basis is more clearly felt, Tyutchev has no equal "( Soloviev. Poetry. P. 476).
RF Brandt believed that "in this piece, which could be recognized as a simple picture, the greatness of Nature and the smallness of man in front of her are depicted" ( Materials. P. 54) ( A. Sh.).
Great about poetry:
Poetry is like painting: another work will captivate you more if you look at it up close, and another if you go further away.
Small cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of greasy wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which fell through.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is the most tempted to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen sparkles.
Humboldt W.
Poems work well if they are created with spiritual clarity.
Writing poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish poetry grows without knowing shame ... Like a dandelion by the fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not in verses alone: it is poured everywhere, it is around us. Look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life blows from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.
I. S. Turgenev
For many people, writing poetry is a mental growth disease.
G. Lichtenberg
A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn along the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing within us. As he tells us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens our love and our sorrow in our souls. He's a magician. By understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful verses flow, there is no room for quibbling.
Murasaki Shikibu
I am turning to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags a stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! - asked the visitor pleadingly.
- I promise and I swear! - Ivan said solemnly ...
Mikhail Afanasevich Bulgakov. "The Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from others only in that they write them in words.
John Fowles. "The mistress of the French lieutenant"
Every poem is a blanket stretched out over the edges of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
Poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. This is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times, the whole Universe is invariably hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for the one who inadvertently wakes up the dozing lines.
Max Fry. "Chatty Dead"
One of my clumsy hippopotamuses-poems I attached such a paradise tail: ...
Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not worry, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not the sea and not a plague!
Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky
Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore - chase critics. They are just pitiful slips of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Do not let his vulgar palpating hands go there. Let the poems seem to him an absurd hum, a chaotic heap of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from boring reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.
Boris Krieger. "Thousand Lives"
Poems are a thrill of the heart, excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing more than pure poetry that has rejected the word.
Tyutchev saw who the element is in reality. If Lermontov wanted to be heard by the elements and understood, aspired to be called a brother of storms, thunderstorms, cliffs and sea waves, then Tyutchev simply contemplated the elements and, it seems, did not doubt who it was. "Not cooled by the heat, The July night shone ... And over the dull earth, the Sky, full of thunderstorms, Everything trembled in the lightning ... Like heavy eyelashes Rising above the ground, And through the fugitive lightning, Someone's formidable pupils Lighted up at times ..." ...
This poem describes one moment of the element, which experienced some kind of anxiety. The poem was written ten years after the death of Lermontov, and the one "whose terrible pupils sometimes lit up" must have remembered what happened under the Mashuk Mountain. He also remembered the angel flying "in the midnight sky", but did not reach the designated place. While the angel was flying, while it lingered in the field of vision of the poets, the element deified itself, having learned that it is the creator of itself. He remembered the one "whose formidable pupils sometimes lit up" over Tyutchev, and about the dried flower that Pushkin had discovered in a forgotten book. He already knew about himself - the Heavenly King, who went out to his native land, blessing, in a slavish form. From now on everything was in his memory, from now on everything was in his field of vision, everything that was, is and will be.
Why did Lermontov want to intermarry with the storm? Why did Tyutchev love to write about nature, only entrusting his complex thoughts and experiences to it? Because all ingenious strives for simplicity; imperfection always strives for perfection; the ugly seeks to acquire an image; chaos strives to become harmony; the element is to become God. But God is in the element - is it comfortable? Doesn't God also suffer in the elements, as poets suffer?
The poet seeks to incarnate in a rock - already in a part of God. And through this incarnation, the poet himself becomes a part of God, and invites the reader to incarnate in God with him.
The poet strives to escape from the imperfection of complex feelings and thoughts in the perfection of simplicity. Hence - the poet's desire to become a rock, a desert, a wave of the sea. And he manages to become a wave, a desert, a rock, a cloud of heaven ...
"Not cooled down from the heat ..." Fyodor Tyutchev
Not cooled down from the heat,
The July night was shining ...
And over the dull ground
A sky full of thunderstorms
Everything trembled in the lightning ...Like heavy eyelashes
We rose above the ground ...
And through the runaway lightning
Someone's formidable apple
Sometimes they caught fire ...
Analysis of Tyutchev's poem "Not cooled by the heat ..."
The poetic sketch of a thunderous night is one of the end-to-end images of Tyutchev's works. The hero of the work "" is attracted by a mysterious spectacle, when the dense, but "sensitive" alarming darkness is suddenly cut through by bright flashes of distant lightning. The picturesque landscape is part of the author's mythopoetic painting, which makes the earthly world dependent on the actions of mysterious powerful forces.
Similar motives are present in a poetic text that appeared in the middle of the summer of 1851. The poet depicts a sultry night, the arrival of which did not bring the desired coolness.
In the opening stanza, the images of the earth and the sky are contrasted. The mention of the first of them is laconic, it is limited to the epithet "dull". The lexical means complements the general picture: referring to the motive of heat, declared by the inception line, the author creates an expressive image. The earth is weary, exhausted by the heat and stuffiness that the past day has brought.
The stormy sky, acting as an antagonist to the image of the earth, is filled with light. It is illuminated by flashes of lightning, and for this reason, a summer night is characterized by the properties of sparkling, shining, and instantly changing. The hero-observer is fascinated by a dynamic spectacle: light flashes follow one another, creating an overall picture of a trembling, trembling firmament.
The content of the second stanza is organized by a detailed comparison, with the help of which natural objects and phenomena are personified. A fantastic image of a giant creature is born, created according to the principles of metonymy. The unknown character alternately lowers and lifts his eyelids, as if peering into the earthly darkness with a formidable, frightening gaze. In an effort to convey the majestic nature of what is happening, the author turns to the outdated lexeme "apple", which replaces the usual version of "eye". The semantics of the original comparison enriches the subject matter of the work, taking it beyond the scope of landscape lyrics. In the revelry of the night element, chaotic forces are manifested, whose nature is inaccessible to the human mind.
In the figurative system of the poem, the leading role is played by visual dominants, which denote the bright, blinding brilliance of fast light flashes. The author, a recognized master of sound writing, in this case gives a clear preference for the visual range, deliberately "muffling" additional means of expression.