Russian writers. A. S. Pushkin. “Here is the north, the clouds are catching up... “Winter Sorceress” A. Pushkin “Winter Sorceress” Alexander Pushkin

Pushkin devoted many poems to the seasons, in particular winter. Some excerpts from his poems became independent poems, published separately from the main work. These are the stanzas “Winter!.. Peasant, triumphant...”,, from "Eugene Onegin". V. Belinsky was right when he called Pushkin an artist.

Excerpt from the novel "Eugene Onegin". When reading these lines, the imagination pictures a blizzard. A fabulous image of the north wind is imagined, which blew, bending the trees and tearing off the last autumn leaves, howled, welcoming the sorceress-winter. Landscapes of winter weather fabulously come to life under the pen of the great master of words. Pictures of the forest appear, snow flakes on the branches, snow-white carpets covering the fields.

Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The sorceress winter is coming.
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees;
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
Frost flashed. And we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.

But the action of the novel was not limited to one year; accordingly, winter subjects and landscapes appear repeatedly in the poem. Here is an excerpt “Neater than fashionable parquet”. He is distinguished by a radiant, joyful mood. The falling goose causes laughter, the children skate with joy. Even the snow is fun here.

Neater than fashionable parquet,
The river shines, covered in ice.
Boys are a joyful people
Skates cut the ice noisily;
The goose is heavy on red legs,
Having decided to sail across the bosom of the waters,
Steps carefully onto the ice,
Slips and falls; funny
The first snow flashes and curls,
Stars falling on the shore.

Sketch “The dawn rises in the cold darkness” The mood is different from the previous one. Concern and fear appear in her. The gloomy picture is diluted by the image of a maiden who, singing songs, spins on winter evenings in the light of a splinter.

The dawn rises in the cold darkness;
In the fields the noise of work fell silent;
With his hungry wolf, a wolf comes out onto the road;
Smelling him, the road horse
Snores - and the traveler is cautious
Rushes up the mountain at full speed;
At dawn the shepherd
He no longer drives the cows out of the barn,
And at midday in a circle
His horn does not call them;
A maiden singing in a hut
Spins, and, friend of winter nights,
A splinter crackles in front of her.

In general, Pushkin’s poems about winter are quite varied in the emotions they evoke. For example, the lyric, written in 1826, is filled with elegiac sadness. Late in the evening the Poet was returning home. The evening turned out to be unusually clear and calm. The sky is a little cloudy, and the moon floats across the sky, appearing and disappearing in the haze of clouds. The coachman is singing something under his breath, there is no one to talk to, and there is nothing to talk about. And sad thoughts creep into my head, worries about magazine, financial, personal matters. It was this mood, inspired by the situation, a deserted winter road, that poured out onto paper.

But in conclusion, he admits to the same Nina that tomorrow he will come to his beloved again and will not part with her.

There is an opinion that Ekaterina Nikolaevna Raevskaya (in marriage - Orlova) was called Nina in the home circle. We find confirmation of this opinion in a letter from A.P. Kern. “...I had the good fortune...to visit the incomparable Raevsky family...Nikolai Nikolaevich...introduced my husband to his wife... She has now taken me under her protection, loved me and introduced me to all her daughters. The eldest, full of grace and attractiveness, caressed me herself. This is the beautiful Nina, whom Pushkin later remembered.”

No fire, no black house...
Wilderness and snow... Towards me
Only miles are striped
They come across one.

Bored, sad... Tomorrow, Nina,
Tomorrow, returning to my dear,
I'll forget myself by the fireplace,
I'll take a look without looking at it.

- this is another pearl in the necklace of poetry of 1825. This work was written during exile in Mikhailovsky, as an appeal to the old one. The poet remained in her care; she, as in childhood, took care of the disgraced poet. Her melodious folk tales and calm soothing songs were, perhaps, the only consolation and joy when he was at home. In the poem, Alexander Sergeevich describes a raging storm that came to life under the poet’s amazing pen.

The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
Then, like a beast, she will howl,
Then he will cry like a child,
Then on the dilapidated roof
Suddenly the straw will rustle,
The way a belated traveler
There will be a knock on our window.

“From the words of P.V. N<ащоки>You can see how Pushkin’s habits have changed, how his passion for social entertainment, for the contradictory talk of the crowd, was softened in him by the needs of his corner and family life. Pushkin seemed like a homebody. He spent whole days in the circle of his friend’s family, on the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth and listening to a simple conversation, in which household matters were often in the foreground.” – This is how Annenkov described the habits and preferences of the poet in the years 29-30. This mood is felt in the poem "Winter. What should we do in the village?, created November 2, 1829.

This work was written with amazing warmth for the people around the poet and for rural nature. This poem is not lyrical. A small sketch depicting the poet’s time spent in the village. It describes one day in the life of the poet in the circle of his friendly family. The morning starts with a cup of tea. The poet thinks about what to do, but his actions depend on the weather. The weather is favorable for horseback riding, and Pushkin and his men go hunting.

But in the evening a blizzard broke out. The poet tries to read, but “his thoughts are far away.” He took up the pen, but even here he failed. The poet returned to the living room, where the owners are discussing current affairs. Pushkin notes that it is not always boring and monotonous here. When guests arrive, everything in the house comes to life.

Then a few words, then conversations,
And there is friendly laughter and songs in the evening,
And the waltzes are playful, and the whispers at the table,
And languid glances, and windy speeches,
There are slow meetings on the narrow staircase;
And the maiden goes out onto the porch at dusk:
The neck, chest are exposed, and the blizzard is in her face!
But the storms of the north are not harmful to the Russian rose.
How hot a kiss burns in the cold!
Like a Russian maiden fresh in the dust of snow!

The next day, November 3rd, a new, charming poem fluttered out from the poet’s pen, filled with such amazing love of life, optimism and charm that you can’t help but exclaim: how beautiful it is. And how can one not admire the amazing, truly magical lines.

Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.

The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.

Thus, even in lyrical poems about nature, about winter, in landscapes and sketches describing the cold season, the biography of the poet, his moods, feelings, and the events taking place around him can be traced.

Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The winter sorceress is coming,
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees,
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields around the hills.
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
The frost has flashed, and we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.
____________
Excerpt from.

Analysis of the poem “Here is the north, the clouds are catching up” by Pushkin

The work “Here is the North, the clouds are catching up” by Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin is an excerpt with a landscape painting from the seventh chapter of “Eugene Onegin”.

The poem was written around the fall of 1828. At this time, the poet turned 29 years old, he returned to the capital after exile in Mikhailovsky, met with friends. However, the threat of a new trial regarding the poems he wrote was already hanging over him. One with accusations of blasphemy, the other for freethinking and praising the Decembrists. However, in both cases he managed to justify himself without consequences. The first meeting with his future wife N. Goncharova is approaching. The genre is landscape miniature, while the size is iambic tetrameter with a certain rhyme pattern inherent in the so-called Onegin stanza: cross, adjacent and encircling. Here is the author's lyrical digression, traditional for the novel, dedicated to the change of seasons. The poet uses the pronoun “we” to include readers in his mood. The description begins with personification: the north breathed and howled. Next comes “winter sorceress” (a double word, an example of folklore vocabulary). “Herself”: in person, as a living being, as a ruler. Next comes the enumerative gradation, sparkling with snow and frost: it came, it crumbled, it hung. It’s as if nature is dressing up, everyone is participating in the transformation: oak trees, on the branches of which snow caps have grown, fields and hills, now covered with “wavy carpets” (comparison with an epithet), brega (an obsolete form of the word) with a river that froze until spring, also dressed in a pleasing to the eye "puffy veil." “Frost flashed”: the culmination of the fragment, expressed by inversion. The sketch ends with enthusiastic anticipation of the “pranks” that are customary to get up to at this time of year, from a mad sleigh ride to a snowball fight. The autumn blues are behind us, the poet greets “Mother Winter” (and again a double word, familiar to Russian oral folk art) and invites all readers to share his joy. It should be noted that the heroine of the novel itself does not join in this fun. This is the moment of preparation for the departure of the family from the village to the city, to Moscow. Her heart was forever connected with a secluded corner, sometimes peaceful. Here she fell in love, even if her heart has since been broken. For all these reasons, she “fears the winter journey.” The vocabulary of the poem is lively, with a fabulous flavor. Winter became “Mother” for a reason: there is respect for its years, and respect for its stern disposition, and a peculiar expression of love.

The seventh chapter of “Eugene Onegin” by A. Pushkin was first published in 1830, during the period of the poet’s repeated matchmaking with N. Goncharova, which culminated in a marriage.

Winter sorceress is coming

Target :

• deepen children's knowledge about the characteristics of nature during different periods of winter;
• to form an aesthetic perception of artistic texts, pictures of nature;
• enrich children's vocabulary with figurative expressions and comparisons;
• develop creative imagination;
• to cultivate sensitivity and receptivity to the beauty of nature, expressed in works of art.

Preliminary work:

• reading and memorizing riddles, sayings, poems on the theme “Winter” (works by I. Surikov, A. Pushkin);
• observations of natural phenomena in winter on the kindergarten site;
• learning songs, listening to music about winter;
• examination of illustrations, reproductions of paintings by I. Grabar, A. Kuindzhi, A. Savrasov, I. Shishkin.

Materials and equipment: reproductions of paintings by S.A. Kupriyanov “Winter Sorceress” and G. Kondratenko “Winter Evening”; audio recording of music by P.I. Tchaikovsky “January” from the cycle “Seasons”; chips.

Move

Children are sitting at tables.

Guys, guess the riddle:

Like across the sky from the north

A white swan swam

The well-fed swan swam,

Threw down, poured

To the fields, lakes

White fluff and feathers.

/Winter/

Who is winter compared to? Why?

Many poets created the image of winter in their poems. A.S. Pushkin describes it like this:

Here is the wind, driving up the clouds,

He breathed, howled - and here she is

Winter sorceress is coming,

Came, crumbled, in shreds

Hanged on the branches of oak trees;

Lay down in wavy carpets

Among the fields, around the hills;

Brega with a motionless hand

Compared to a fur shroud.

Frost flashed. And we are glad

To the pranks of Mother Winter!

Did you like the poem?

What words does the poet use to describe winter?(Sorceress, mother)

How does the poet talk about winter, how did it come?(Crumpled)

How do you understand the words “Hung in clumps on the branches of oak trees”?

What kind of snow is there in winter?(White, fluffy, shaggy, sparkling, silver...)

“She leveled the banks of the motionless river with a plump veil...” Why is the river “motionless”? What kind of veil is there on the river?

What does “frost flashed” mean?(When it’s a frosty day, the snow around you sparkles and shimmers)

Why are we “glad at the pranks of Mother Winter”?(You can play snowballs, sled, ski, skate, sculpt a snowman)

How affectionately does the poet call winter?(Mother)

What words can describe winter? (Magical, fairytale, snowy, frosty, blizzard, sparkling)

(Children receive chips for the correct answer)

How many of you love winter? Why?

There was a whiff of something cold... Yes, it was Zimushka-Winter rushing by! Do you want to follow her?

And to do this you need to put on invisible hats and say the magic words:

Tara-bars, rastabars,

Fir-trees, kalambey,

Shura-murs, balls-vars,

Samba-mamba, milky-way!

Children go out onto the mat and pretend to put on invisible hats, close their eyes, say magic words and follow the sorceress Winter into her snowy kingdom - the winter forest.

Physical education minute

And now we take off our invisibility hats and return home to kindergarten.

The theme “January” from P.I. Tchaikovsky’s album “The Seasons” sounds.

What amazing music!

What time of year is this music about? I think that while listening to this music, each of you imagined some kind of winter picture. Tell me, where did you find yourself in your fantasies?

Guys, look at reproductions of paintings by famous artists. Do you think they loved winter?

Why do you think so?

Which of these paintings most closely matches Pushkin's description of winter?

Let's compare these pictures. How did artists depict snow, forest, sky?

What title would you give to these paintings?

Result: today we learned with what love poets, artists, and composers depict winter in their works. And you also love winter and know a lot about it - you said so many good words about winter and snow. Well done!

Poems about winter by Pushkin

Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The winter sorceress is coming,
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees,
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields around the hills.
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
The frost has flashed, and we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.

Poems about winter by Pushkin

WINTER MORNING

Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!

In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:

Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.

The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?

Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.

********

Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,
On the firewood he renews the path;
His horse smells the snow,
Trotting along somehow;
Fluffy reins exploding,
The daring carriage flies;
The coachman sits on the beam
In a sheepskin coat and a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Having planted a bug in the sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The naughty man has already frozen his finger:
He is both painful and funny,
And his mother threatens him through the window.

(From the novel "Eugene Onegin")

Winter evening

A. S. Pushkin

The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
Then, like a beast, she will howl,
Then he will cry like a child,
Then on the dilapidated roof
Suddenly the straw will rustle,
The way a belated traveler
There will be a knock on our window.
Our dilapidated shack
And sad and dark.
What are you doing, my old lady?
Silent at the window?
Or howling storms
You, my friend, are tired,
Or dozing under the buzzing
Your spindle?
Let's have a drink, good friend
My poor youth

The heart will be more cheerful.
Sing me a song like a tit
She lived quietly across the sea;
Sing me a song like a maiden
I went to get water in the morning.
The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
Then, like a beast, she will howl,
She will cry like a child.
Let's have a drink, good friend
My poor youth
Let's drink from grief; where is the mug?
The heart will be more cheerful.

*******

(From the novel "Eugene Onegin" )

The dawn rises in the cold darkness;
In the fields the noise of work fell silent;
With his hungry wolf
A wolf comes out onto the road;
Smelling him, the road horse
Snores - and the traveler is cautious
Rushes up the mountain at full speed;
At dawn the shepherd
He no longer drives the cows out of the barn,
And at midday in a circle
His horn does not call them;
A maiden singing in a hut
Spins, and, friend of winter nights,
A splinter crackles in front of her.

Alexander Pushkin. Poems about winter

WINTER ROAD

Through the wavy mists
The moon creeps in
To the sad meadows
She sheds a sad light.

On the winter, boring road
Three greyhounds are running,
Single bell
It rattles tiresomely.

Something sounds familiar
In the coachman's long songs:
That reckless revelry
That's heartbreak...

No fire, no black house,
Wilderness and snow... Towards me
Only miles are striped
They come across one.

Nanny

Friend of my harsh days.
My decrepit dove!
Alone in the wilderness of pine forests
You've been waiting for me for a long, long time.
You are under the window of your little room
You're grieving like you're on a clock,
And the knitting needles hesitate every minute
In your wrinkled hands.
You look through the forgotten gates
On the black distant path:
Longing, premonitions, worries
Your chest is constantly being squeezed...

Poems about winter by Pushkin

Illustrations by E. Almazov and V. Shvarov

With amazingly touching simplicity, A.S. Pushkin tells us about the Russian winter. Winter is a time of invigorating cold and powdery snow, bitter frosts and wavy fogs, endless winter roads and frequent stars.

What a night! Frost is bitter,
There is not a single cloud in the sky;
Like an embroidered canopy, a blue vault
Replete with frequent stars.

Everything in the houses is dark. At the gate
Locks with heavy locks.
People are buried everywhere;
Both the noise and the shout of the trade died down;
As soon as the yard guard barks
Yes, the chain rattles loudly.

When we read about the inevitable snow, about how the sorceress winter transforms everything around, it seems that we physically feel this snow, and how the yard boy pushes his dog on a small sled, and the good sounds of winter nature.

***
Here is the wind, driving up the clouds,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The sorceress winter is coming.
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees;
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
Frost flashed. And we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.

Pushkin's poems represent all four seasons, but winter is especially good! In winter it is especially light because underfoot there is not black earth, but white, dazzling snow. What epithets did Pushkin bestow upon the snow mass: “puffy veil”, “wavy carpets”, “magnificent carpets”...

***
Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,
On the firewood he renews the path;
His horse smells the snow,
Trotting along somehow;
Fluffy reins exploding,
The daring carriage flies;
The coachman sits on the beam
In a sheepskin coat and a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Having planted a bug in the sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The naughty man has already frozen his finger:
He is both painful and funny,
And his mother threatens him through the window...
***
Beautiful and sunny images of a wonderful winter morning are woven into these poetic lines with a love theme. The combination of lyrical expressions, such as “closed eyes,” “northern Aurora,” with ordinary, real ones — “the flooded stove is cracking,” “ban the brown filly” — is excellent. In this case, the integrity of the composition of the verse is not violated, but on the contrary, elements of unpredictability are added.

"Winter morning"
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
***
"Winter road"
Through the wavy mists
The moon creeps in
To the sad meadows
She sheds a sad light.

On the winter, boring road
Three greyhounds are running,
Single bell
It rattles tiresomely.
***

"Winter evening"
The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
The way the beast will howl,
Then he will cry like a child,
Then on the dilapidated roof
Suddenly a straw makes a noise,
The way a belated traveler
There will be a knock on our window.
***

“Neater than fashionable parquet”
Neater than fashionable parquet,
The river shines, covered in ice.
Boys are a joyful people
Skates cut the ice noisily;
The goose is heavy on red legs,
Having decided to sail across the bosom of the waters,
Steps carefully onto the ice,
Slips and falls; funny
The first snow flashes and curls,
Stars falling on the shore.
***

Dawn rises in the cold darkness;
In the fields the noise of work fell silent;
With his hungry wolf
A wolf comes out onto the road;
Smelling him, the road horse
Snores - and the traveler is cautious
Rushes up the mountain at full speed;
At dawn the shepherd
He no longer drives the cows out of the barn,
And at midday in a circle
His horn does not call them;
A maiden singing in a hut
Spins, and, friend of winter nights,
A splinter crackles in front of her.