The forests are so dense recently. Analysis of Pushkin's poem "Winter Morning" (1)

Painting by Gustave Courbet "Outskirts of the village in winter"

Through the wavy mists
The moon is making its way
To the sad glades
She glows sadly.

On the winter road, boring
The three greyhound runs
One-sounding bell
Thunders tiresomely.

Something is heard native
In the long songs of the driver:
That revelry is daring,
That heart's melancholy ...

Painting by Nikolai Krymov "Winter Evening"

THIS YEAR AUTUMN WEATHER

That year the autumn weather
She stood in the yard for a long time.
Winter waited, nature waited,
Snow fell only in January,
On the third in the night. Waking up early
Tatyana saw in the window
In the morning, the whitened courtyard,
Curtains, roofs and fences,
There are light patterns on the glasses,
Trees in winter silver
Forty merry in the yard
And softly covered mountains
Winters are a splendid carpet.
Everything is bright, everything shines around.

Painting by Arkady Plastov "First Snow"

WHAT A NIGHT! FROST CRACKING

What a night! Crackling frost,
There is not a single cloud in the sky;
Like a sewn canopy, blue vault
Dazzles with frequent stars.
Everything is dark in the houses. At the gate
Locks with heavy locks.
The people rest everywhere;
The noise and the cry of the trade have died down;
As soon as the yard guard barks
Yes, ringing like a chain.

And all of Moscow is sleeping peacefully ...

Konstantin Yuon "End of winter. Noon"

"Winter Morning" Alexander Pushkin

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

Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
In the dull sky haze was worn;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the gloomy clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now ... look out the window:

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

The whole room is amber shine
Illuminated. Merry bang
A flooded stove crackles.
Nice to think by the couch.
But you know: shouldn't you tell the sled
Turn down the brown mare?

Gliding in the morning snow
Dear friend, let’s indulge in running
Impatient horse
And visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.

Analysis of Pushkin's poem "Winter Morning"

Lyric works in the work of Alexander Pushkin occupy a very significant place. The poet has repeatedly admitted that he treats with trepidation not only the traditions, myths and legends of his people, but also never ceases to admire the beauty of Russian nature, bright, colorful and full of mysterious magic. He made many attempts to capture the most diverse moments, masterfully creating images of an autumn forest or a summer meadow. However, the poem "Winter Morning", created in 1829, is rightfully considered one of the most successful, light and joyful works of the poet.

From the very first lines, Alexander Pushkin sets the reader up for a romantic mood describing the beauty of winter nature in a few simple and graceful phrases, when the duet of frost and sun creates an unusually festive and optimistic mood. To enhance the effect, the poet builds his work on contrast, mentioning that only yesterday “the blizzard was angry” and “the haze was hovering in the cloudy sky”. Perhaps, each of us is well aware of such metamorphoses, when, in the middle of winter, endless snowfalls are replaced by a sunny and clear morning, filled with silence and inexplicable beauty.

On such days it is simply a sin to sit at home, no matter how cozy the fire crackles in the fireplace. And in every line of Pushkin's "Winter Morning" there is a call to go for a walk that promises a lot of unforgettable impressions. Especially if outside the window there are amazingly beautiful landscapes - a river shining under the ice, a forest and meadows powdered with snow, which resemble a snow-white blanket woven by someone's skillful hand.

Every line of this poem is literally permeated with freshness and purity., as well as admiration and admiration for the beauty of his native land, which at any time of the year never ceases to amaze the poet. Moreover, Alexander Pushkin does not seek to hide his overwhelming feelings, as many of his fellow writers did in the 19th century. Therefore, in the poem "Winter Morning" there is no pretentiousness and restraint inherent in other authors, but at the same time, each line is permeated with warmth, grace and harmony. In addition, simple joys in the form of a toboggan ride bring true happiness to the poet and help to fully experience all the greatness of Russian nature, changeable, luxurious and unpredictable.

The poem "Winter Morning" by Alexander Pushkin is rightfully considered one of the most beautiful and sublime works of the poet. It lacks the causticity so characteristic of the author, and there is no usual allegory that makes one look for a hidden meaning in every line. These works are the embodiment of tenderness, light and beauty. Therefore, it is not surprising that it was written with a light and melodic iambic tetrameter, to which Pushkin resorted quite often in those cases when he wanted to give his poems a special sophistication and lightness. Even in the contrasting description of bad weather, which is intended to emphasize the freshness and brightness of a sunny winter morning, there is no usual thickening of colors: a snow storm is presented as a fleeting phenomenon that is not able to darken the expectations of a new day filled with majestic tranquility.

At the same time, the author himself never ceases to be amazed at such dramatic changes that took place in just one night. As if nature itself acted as a tamer of an insidious blizzard, forcing her to change her anger to mercy and, thereby, gave people an amazingly beautiful morning, filled with frosty freshness, the creak of fluffy snow, the ringing silence of silent snowy plains and the charm of the sun's rays, shimmering with all colors rainbows in frosty window patterns.

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

Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
In the dull sky haze was worn;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the gloomy clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now ... look out the window:

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

The whole room is amber shine
Illuminated. Merry bang
A flooded stove crackles.
Nice to think by the couch.
But you know: shouldn't you tell the sled
Turn down the brown mare?

Gliding in the morning snow
Dear friend, let’s indulge in running
Impatient horse
And visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.

Analysis of the poem "Winter Morning" by Pushkin

The poem "Winter Morning" is a brilliant lyrical work of Pushkin. It was written in 1829, when the poet had already been released from exile.

"Winter Morning" refers to the poet's works dedicated to the quiet idyll of village life. The poet has always treated the Russian people and Russian nature with deep trepidation. Love for the Motherland and native language was an innate quality of Pushkin. He conveyed this feeling with great skill in his works.

The poem begins with a line known to almost everyone: “Frost and sun; wonderful day! " From the first lines, the author creates a magical picture of a clear winter day. The lyrical hero addresses his beloved - "a charming friend" with a greeting. The amazing transformation of nature that took place overnight is revealed with the help of a sharp opposition: "the blizzard was angry", "the haze was rushing about" - "the spruce is turning green", "the river is glittering." Changes in nature, according to the poet, will certainly affect the mood of a person. He invites his "sad beauty" to look out the window and feel the splendor of the morning landscape.

Pushkin liked to live in the countryside, far from the noisy bustle of the city. He describes unpretentious everyday joys. A person needs little to be happy: a cozy house with a hotly heated stove and the presence of his beloved woman. A sled ride can be especially enjoyable. The poet seeks to admire the fields and forests so dear to him, to appreciate the changes that have occurred to them. The charm of a walk is given by the presence of a "dear friend" with whom you can share your joy and delight.

Pushkin is considered one of the founders of the modern Russian language. Winter Morning is one of the small but important building blocks in this business. The poem is written in a simple and understandable language. The iambic tetrameter, which the poet loved so much, is perfect for describing the beauty of the landscape. The work is imbued with extraordinary purity and clarity. The main means of expression are numerous epithets. By the past sad day are: "cloudy", "pale", "gloomy". A real joyful day is “magnificent”, “transparent”, “amber”. The central comparison of the poem is dedicated to the beloved woman - "the star of the north."

There is no hidden philosophical meaning in the poem, any omissions and allegories. Without using beautiful phrases and expressions, Pushkin painted a magnificent picture that can not leave anyone indifferent.

Lyrics by A.S. Pushkin about winter - an excellent tool to look at the snowy and cold weather with different eyes, to see in it the beauty that gray everyday life and dirty streets hide from us. It was not in vain that they said that nature does not have bad weather.

Painting by Viktor Grigorievich Tsyplakov "Frost and Sun"

WINTER MORNING

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

Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
In the dull sky haze was worn;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the gloomy clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now ... look out the window:

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

The whole room is amber shine
Illuminated. Merry bang
A flooded stove crackles.
Nice to think by the couch.
But you know: shouldn't you tell the sled
Harness the brown filly?

Gliding in the morning snow
Dear friend, let’s indulge in running
Impatient horse
And visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.

Painting by Alexei Savrasov "Courtyard. Winter"

WINTER EVENING

The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
How a beast she will howl
It will cry like a child
Then on the dilapidated roof
Suddenly it will rustle with straw,
How a belated traveler
He will knock at our window.

Our dilapidated hovel
And sad and dark.
What are you, my old lady,
Has it fallen silent by the window?
Or howling storms
You, my friend, are weary
Or do you doze under the buzz
Your spindle?

Let's have a drink, good friend
Poor youth of mine,
Let's drink from grief; where is the mug?
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 girl
In the morning I went to fetch water.

The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
How a beast she will howl
It will cry like a child.
Let's have a drink, good friend
Poor youth of mine,
Let's drink from grief: where is the mug?
The heart will be more cheerful.

Painting by Alexei Savrasov "Winter road"

Here is the north, catching up with clouds ...

Here is the north, catching up with clouds,
He breathed, howled - and now she
The winter sorceress is coming
Came, crumbled; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees,
Laid down in wavy carpets
Among the fields around the hills.
Brega with a motionless river
Equalized with a plump shroud;
Frost flashed, and we are glad
The pranks of mother winter.

Painting by Gustave Courbet "Outskirts of the village in winter"

WINTER! ... PEASANT CELEBRATION ... (Excerpt from the poem "Eugene Onegin")

Winter! .. The peasant, triumphant,
On the logs it updates the path;
His horse, smelling the snow,
Weaving at a trot somehow;
Exploding fluffy reins,
The daring wagon flies;
The coachman sits on the beam
In a sheepskin coat, in a red sash.
Here is a courtyard boy running,
Putting a bug in the sled,
Transforming yourself into a horse;
The mischievous finger has already froze:
He is both hurt and funny,
And his mother threatens him through the window.

Isaac Brodsky's painting "Winter"

WINTER ROAD

Through the wavy mists
The moon is making its way
To the sad glades
She glows sadly.

On the winter road, boring
The three greyhound runs
One-sounding bell
Thunders tiresomely.

Something is heard native
In the long songs of the driver:
That revelry is daring,
That heart's melancholy ...

Painting by Nikolai Krymov "Winter Evening"

THIS YEAR AUTUMN WEATHER

That year the autumn weather
She stood in the yard for a long time.
Winter waited, nature waited,
Snow fell only in January,
On the third in the night. Waking up early
Tatyana saw in the window
In the morning, the whitened courtyard,
Curtains, roofs and fences,
There are light patterns on the glasses,
Trees in winter silver
Forty merry in the yard
And softly covered mountains
Winters are a splendid carpet.
Everything is bright, everything shines around.

Frost and sun; wonderful day! You are still asleep, lovely friend - It's time, beauty, wake up: Open your eyes closed with bliss Towards the northern Aurora, Appear as the star of the north! Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry, There was a haze in the cloudy sky; The moon, like a pale spot, Through the gloomy clouds turned yellow, And you sat sad - And now ... look out the window: Under the blue skies Magnificent carpets, Shining in the sun, the snow lies; The transparent forest alone turns black, And the spruce turns green through the frost, And the river shines under the ice. The whole room is the amber sheen of Ozaren. The flooded stove crackles with a merry crack. Nice to think by the couch. But you know: shouldn't you tell the Brown Mare to be put into the sledge? Gliding on the morning snow, Dear friend, let us indulge in the run of the Impatient horse And visit the empty fields, The forests, recently so thick, And the coast, dear to me.

"Winter Morning" is one of the brightest and most joyful works of Pushkin. The poem was written with iambic tetrameter, to which Pushkin resorted quite often in those cases when he wanted to give his poems a special sophistication and lightness.

From the first lines, the duet of frost and sun creates an unusually festive and optimistic mood. To enhance the effect, the poet builds his work on contrast, mentioning that only yesterday “the blizzard was angry” and “the haze was hovering in the cloudy sky”. Perhaps, each of us is familiar with such metamorphoses, when, in the middle of winter, endless snowfalls are replaced by a sunny and clear morning, filled with silence and inexplicable beauty.

On such days it is simply a sin to sit at home, no matter how cozy the fire crackles in the fireplace. Especially if outside the window there are amazingly beautiful landscapes - a river shining under the ice, a forest and meadows powdered with snow, which resemble a snow-white blanket woven by someone's skillful hand.

Each line of the verse is literally permeated with freshness and purity, as well as admiration and admiration for the beauty of the native land, which at any time of the year never ceases to amaze the poet. There is no pretentiousness and restraint in the verse, but at the same time each line is permeated with warmth, grace and harmony. In addition, simple joys in the form of a toboggan ride bring true happiness and help to fully experience all the greatness of Russian nature, changeable, luxurious and unpredictable. Even in the contrasting description of bad weather, which is intended to emphasize the freshness and brightness of a sunny winter morning, there is no usual thickening of colors: a snow storm is presented as a fleeting phenomenon that is not able to darken the expectations of a new day filled with majestic tranquility.

At the same time, the author himself never ceases to be amazed at such dramatic changes that took place in just one night. As if nature itself acted as a tamer of an insidious blizzard, forcing her to change her anger to mercy and, thereby, gave people an amazingly beautiful morning, filled with frosty freshness, the creak of fluffy snow, the ringing silence of silent snowy plains and the charm of the sun's rays, shimmering with all colors rainbows in frosty window patterns.