Mtsyri when published. The life of a mtsyra in a monastery. What mountains are discussed in the work of Lermontov

17.07.2020

"Mtsyri" is a lyric poem by Lermontov. It was written in 1839 and published a year later in a collection called Poems by M. Lermontov. One of Mikhail Yuryevich's contemporaries, critic V. Belinsky, wrote that this work reflects "our poet's favorite ideal." One of the fine examples of classical romantic Russian poetry - the poem "Mtsyri" - will be discussed in this article.

History of writing

"Mtsyri" is a work written under the impression of life in the Caucasus. The prototype of the plot of the poem was a story from the life of the highlanders, heard by Lermontov in 1837, during the first exile. Mikhail Yuryevich, traveling along the Georgian Military Highway, met a lonely monk in Mtskheta. He told him the story of his life. The clergyman as a child was captured by a Russian general and left in a local monastery, where he spent his whole life, despite longing for his homeland.

M.Yu. could use some elements of Georgian folklore in his work. Lermontov. The poem "Mtsyri" in its plot contains a central episode in which the hero fights with a leopard. In folk Georgian poetry, there is a theme of a fight between a young man and a tiger, which is reflected in another famous poem - "The Knight in the Panther's Skin" by Sh. Rustaveli.

Title and epigraph

Translated from the Georgian language, “mtsyri” is “non-serving monk”, “novice”. This word also has a second meaning: “foreigner”, “newcomer from foreign lands”. As you can see, Lermontov chose the most appropriate title for his poem. It is interesting that initially Mikhail Yuryevich called his poem "Beri", which in Georgian means "monk". has also undergone changes. At first, Lermontov used the phrase for him: “On n'a qu'une seule patrie” (“Everyone has only one fatherland”), but later the poet chose for the epigraph an excerpt from the 1st Book of Kings (Chapter 14): “Eating delicious little honey, and behold I am dying.” These words symbolize a violation of the natural course of things.

The poem "Mtsyri", the content of which is known to many Russian readers, tells about the tragic fate of a Caucasian boy, captured and taken away by the Russian general Yermolov from his native land. On the way, the child fell ill and was left in one of the local monasteries. Here the boy was forced to spend his life "away from sunlight". The child missed the Caucasian expanses all the time, strove back to the mountains. After some time, he seemed to get used to the cramped conditions of life in the monastery, learned a foreign language and was already preparing to be tonsured a monk. However, at the age of seventeen, the young man suddenly felt a strong spiritual impulse that made him suddenly leave the monastery and run away to unknown lands. He felt free, the memory of childhood returned to him. The guy remembered his native language, the faces of people who were once close to him. Intoxicated with fresh air and childhood memories, the young man spent three days in the wild. In this short period, he saw everything that captivity deprived him of. The guy admired the pictures of Georgian mighty nature, beautiful girl gracefully filling a jug with water. He defeated the leopard in a deadly fight and comprehended the degree of his own strength and dexterity. For three days, the young man lived a whole life filled with vivid emotions and sensations. Found completely by accident in the vicinity of the monastery with no memory, the guy refused to eat, because he realized that he could not continue his former life in captivity. The way to the rebellious heart of Mtsyri was found only by the old monk who baptized him. Confessing to the young man, the elder learned about what the young man had seen and felt during the three days of his failed escape.

Genre and composition of the poem

Many works about life in the Caucasus were written by Lermontov. The poem "Mtsyri" is one of them. The poet associates the Caucasus with the territory of unlimited liberty and freedom, where a person has the opportunity to prove himself in a fight with the elements, merge with nature and subordinate it to his own will, win the battle with himself.

The plot of the romantic poem is centered around the feelings and experiences of one lyrical hero - Mtsyri. The form of the work - a confession - makes it possible to most truthfully and deeply reveal the mental image of a young man. The composition of the work is typical for this kind of poems - the hero is placed in unusual circumstances, the monologue-confession occupies the main place, it is described internal state person, not the environment.

However, there are differences from a typical romantic work. There is no understatement or understatement in the poem. The place of action is precisely indicated here, the poet informs the reader about the circumstances that led the young man to the monastery. Mtsyri's excited speech contains a consistent and logical account of the events that happened to him.

Nature and reality

The poem "Mtsyri" is not only a psychologically reliable presentation of the inner experiences of the protagonist, but also a magnificent description of Georgian nature. She is a picturesque background against which events unfold in the work, and also serves as a tool for the reaction of a young man to a thunderstorm, when he “would be glad to hug the storm”, describes him as a man of unbridled and courageous, ready to fight with the elements. The mental state of the hero on a quiet morning after a thunderstorm, his readiness to comprehend the secrets of "heaven and earth" characterizes the guy as a subtle and sensitive person, able to see and understand beauty. Nature for Lermontov is a source of inner harmony. The monastery in the poem is a symbol of hostile reality, forcing a strong and extraordinary person to die under the influence of unnecessary conventions.

Antecedents in literature

The poem "Mtsyri", the heroes of which are described in this article, has several literary predecessors. A similar story about the fate of a young monk is described in I. Kozlov's poem "The Chernets". Despite the similar content, these works have a different ideological component. In Lermontov's poem, the influence of the Decembrist literature and poetry of I.V. Goethe. "Mtsyri" carries motifs that have already appeared in the early works of the poet: "Boyarin Orsha" and "Confession".

Lermontov's contemporaries noticed the similarity of Mtsyri with Byron's Prisoner of Chignon, translated into Russian by Zhukovsky. However, the hero hates society and wants to be left alone, while Mtsyri strives for people.

Criticism

M. Lermontov received the most flattering reviews from critics. "Mtsyri" conquered literary critics not only ideological content but also in the form of presentation. Belinsky noted that with the masculine rhyme with which the work is written, “it sounds and abruptly falls like a blow of a sword,” and this verse is in harmony with “the invincible power of a mighty nature and the tragic position of the hero of the poem.”

Lermontov's contemporaries recall with delight the reading of "Mtsyra" by the author himself. in "Acquaintance with Russian Poets" he described the strong impression that he received from reading this poem by Mikhail Yuryevich in Tsarskoye Selo.

Conclusion

"Mtsyri" is best poem M.Yu. Lermontov. In it, the poet demonstrated his poetic skill and expressed ideas that were close to his rebellious nature. The passion and strength with which Mikhail Yuryevich described the suffering of a young man capable of great accomplishments, but forced to vegetate in the silence of the monastery walls, certainly express the innermost feelings of the author himself. Each of us can now re-read "Mtsyri", feel the power and beauty of this amazing work and ... touch the beauty.

A few years ago
Where, merging, they make noise,
Hugging like two sisters
Jets of Aragva and Kura,
There was a monastery. Because of the mountain
And now he sees a pedestrian
Collapsed gate pillars
And the towers, and the church vault;
But don't smoke under it
Incense burners fragrant smoke,
Can't hear singing at a late hour
Praying monks for us.
Now one old man is gray-haired,
The ruins guard half-dead,
Forgotten by people and death,
Sweeps the dust off the tombstones
Which the inscription says
About the glory of the past - and about
How, dejected by his crown,
Such and such a king, in such and such a year,
He handed over his people to Russia.
___

And God's grace came down
To Georgia! She bloomed
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies
3a the edge of friendly bayonets.

Once a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill, could not bear
Proceedings of a long way;
He seemed to be six years old,
Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But it has a painful ailment
Developed then a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
Languished, even a weak groan
Did not fly out of children's lips,
He rejected food
And quietly, proudly died.
Out of pity, one monk
He looked after the patient, and within the walls
He remained guardian
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran from everyone,
I wandered silently, alone,
Looked, sighing, to the east,
Driven by obscure longing
On the side of his own.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the color of years
Take a monastic vow
How suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all searches for him
Were in vain, but then
They found him in the steppe without feelings
And they brought it back to the monastery.
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, like a long labor,
He experienced sickness or hunger.
He didn't answer the interrogation.
And every day noticeably sluggish.
And his end was near;
Then a black man came to him
With admonition and prayer;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
I got up, gathering the rest of my strength,
And for a long time he said:

"You listen to my confession
Came here, thank you.
Everything is better in front of someone
Lighten my chest with words;
But I did not harm people,
And so my deeds
It's a little good for you to know
Can you tell your soul?
I lived little, and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one
But only full of anxiety
I would change if I could.
I knew only one thought power,
One - but fiery passion:
She, like a worm, lived in me,
It gnawed at the soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From stuffy cells and prayers
In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds
Where people are free as eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
Nurtured with tears and longing;
Her before heaven and earth
I now loudly acknowledge
And I don't ask for forgiveness.

Old man! I heard many times
That you saved me from death -
What for? .. Gloomy and lonely,
A torn leaf by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
The soul of a child, the fate of a monk.
I couldn't tell anyone
sacred words"father and mother".
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I wean in the monastery
From these sweet names -
In vain: their sound was born
With me. And I've seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
And I did not find
Not only sweet souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my heart I swore an oath:
Though for a moment someday
my burning chest
Press with longing to the chest of another,
Though unfamiliar, but native.
Alas! now those dreams
Died in full beauty
And how I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.

The grave does not scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold eternal silence;
But I'm sorry to part with my life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
Rampant youth dreams?
Or didn't know or forgot
How I hated and loved;
How the heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall
Child of an unknown country
Clinging, young dove
Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?
Let now beautiful light
I'm ashamed of you; you are weak, you are gray
And from desires you weaned.
What is the need? You lived, old man!
You have something in the world to forget
You lived - I could also live!

Do you want to know what I saw
At will? - Lush fields
Crowned hills
Trees growing all around
Noisy fresh crowd,
Like brothers in a circular dance.
I saw heaps of dark rocks
When the stream separated them.
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone hugs
And they long for a meeting every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Weird like dreams
When at dawn
Smoked like altars
Their heights in the blue sky
And cloud after cloud
Leaving your secret lodging,
To the east directed the run -
Like a white caravan
Passing birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the mist
In the snows burning like a diamond
Gray unshakable Caucasus;
And my heart was
Easy, I don't know why.
A secret voice told me
That once I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer ...

And I remembered my father's house,
Our gorge and all around
In the shadow of a scattered aul;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered swarthy old men,
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against the father's porch
Sitting with the importance of the face;
And the sheen of the rimmed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
All this is a vague succession
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? he is alive
In your combat clothes
Appeared to me and I remembered
Chain mail ringing, and the gleam of a gun,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Above my cradle...
There was a stream running through the gorge.
It was noisy, but shallow;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And watched the swallows with a glance,
When they are before the rain
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening hearth
Long stories about
How did the people of the past live?
When the world was even richer.

Do you want to know what I did
At will? Lived - and my life
Without these three blessed days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
Long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We will be born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour,
When the storm scared you
When, crowding at the altar,
You lay prostrate on the ground
I ran. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be happy to embrace the storm!
With the eyes of the clouds I followed
I caught lightning with my hand ...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm? ..

I ran for a long time - where, where?
Don't know! not a single star
Didn't light up the hard way.
I had fun inhaling
Into my tormented chest
The night freshness of those forests
But only! I have many hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
Lie down between tall grasses;
I listened: there is no chase.
The storm has subsided. pale light
Stretched in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the teeth of distant mountains;
Motionless, silently I lay,
Sometimes in the gorge a jackal
Screaming and crying like a child
And, shining with smooth scales,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not grip my soul:
I myself, like a beast, was a stranger to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.

Down deep below me
A stream reinforced by a thunderstorm
Noisy, and its noise is deaf
Angry hundred voices
Got it. Although without words
I understood that conversation
Silent murmur, eternal dispute
With a stubborn pile of stones.
Then he suddenly subsided, then stronger
It resounded in the silence;
And so, in the misty sky
The birds sang, and the east
got rich; breeze
Raw stirred the sheets;
Sleepy flowers died,
And like them, towards the day
I raised my head...
I looked around; don't melt:
I became afraid; on the edge
Of the threatening abyss I lay,
Where howled, spinning, an angry shaft;
There were steps of rocks;
But only an evil spirit walked on them,
When, cast down from heaven,
Disappeared in an underground abyss.

God's garden blossomed all around me;
Plant rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And curls of vines
Curled, showing off between the trees
Transparent green sheets;
And the clusters are full on them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A shy swarm of birds flew to them
And again I fell to the ground
And began to listen again
To magical, strange voices;
They whispered through the bushes
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
And all nature's voices
Merged here; did not ring out
In solemn praise hour
Only a man's proud voice.
In vain what I felt then
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them
To live, even mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I'm in it with my eyes and soul
Drowned while the midday heat
My dreams are not dashed.
And I became thirsty.

Then to the stream from above,
Holding on to flexible bushes
From stove to stove I did my best
Started going down. From under your feet
Breaking off, the stone sometimes
Rolled down - behind him the reins
It smoked, the ashes curled like a pillar;
Buzzing and jumping, then
He was absorbed by the wave;
And I hung over the deep
But free youth is strong,
And death seemed not terrible!
Only I am from steep heights
Went down, the freshness of the mountain waters
blew towards me,
And greedily I clung to the wave.
Suddenly - a voice - a slight sound of footsteps ...
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trembling,
I looked up fearfully
And eagerly began to listen:
And closer, closer everything sounded
Georgian voice is young,
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was taught to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But she got into my mind,
And to me, only dusk comes,
Her invisible spirit sings.

Holding a pitcher over your head
Georgian narrow path
Went down to the beach. Sometimes
She slipped between the stones
Laughing at their awkwardness.
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily, back
Curves long veils
Throwing back. summer heat
Covered in golden shadow
Her face and chest; and heat
I breathed from her mouth and cheeks.
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep
So full of secrets of love
What are my ardent thoughts
Were embarrassed. I only remember
Pitcher ringing - when the jet
Slowly poured into him
And a rustle ... nothing more.
When did I wake up again
And drained the blood from my heart
She was already far away;
And she walked, even quieter, but easily,
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!
Far away, in the cool haze,
Seemed to be rooted to the rock
Two sakli as a friendly couple;
Above a flat roof
Blue smoke billowed.
I see as if now
As the door slowly opened...
And closed again! ..
I know you don't understand
My longing, my sadness;
And if I could, I would be sorry:
Memories of those moments
In me, let them die with me.

Exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily ...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian image of a young.
And strange sweet longing
Again my chest ached.
For a long time I tried to breathe -
And woke up. Already the moon
Above shone, and alone
Only a cloud crept after her,
As for your prey,
Embrace greedy opening.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Snow chain tops
Away sparkled before me
Yes, a stream splashed on the banks.
In the familiar sakla a light
It trembled, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So goes out bright Star!
I wanted ... but I'm there
I didn't dare to go up. I one goal —
Go to your native country
He had in his soul and overcame
The suffering of hunger, as he could.
And here is the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost in sight of the mountains
And then he started to go astray.

In vain in a rage at times
I tore with a desperate hand
Blackthorn tangled with ivy:
All the forest was, the eternal forest around,
Terrible and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush.
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
It was the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground;
And sobbed in a frenzy,
And gnawed at the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
In it with combustible dew ...
But, believe me, human help
I did not want ... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a beast of the steppe;
And if even a minute cry
I cheated - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.

Do you remember your childhood years?
I never knew tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Only dark forest
Yes, the month that floated in the sky!
Illuminated by his beam
Covered in moss and sand
impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a field. Suddenly in her
A shadow flashed, and two lights
Sparks flew ... and then
Some kind of beast in one leap
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
Playing, back on the sand.
That was the eternal guest of the desert -
Mighty bar. raw bone
He gnawed and squealed merrily;
That bloody gaze directed,
Wagging your tail gently
For a full month - and on it
The wool was sheen with silver.
I waited, grabbing a horned bough,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited by the will to fight
And blood ... yes, the hand of fate
She took me in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could be in the land of fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.

I was waiting. And in the shadow of the night
He sensed the enemy, and howl
Drawling, plaintive like a groan
There was suddenly ... and he began
Angrily paw dig sand,
He stood on his hind legs, then lay down,
And the first crazy jump
to me terrible death threatened...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and fast.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead was cut ...
He groaned like a man
And capsized. But again
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, the deadly battle!

He threw himself on my chest:
But in the throat I managed to stick
And then turn twice
My weapon... He howled,
I rushed with my last strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tightly two friends,
Fell at once, and in the darkness
The fight continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment;
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I burned, squealed like him;
As if I myself were born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
As if from childhood my tongue
I'm not used to the sound...
But my enemy began to languish,
Move, breathe slower
Squeezed me for the last time...
The pupils of his motionless eyes
Flashed menacingly - and then
Closed quietly eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He met death face to face
As a fighter follows in battle! ..

You see on my chest
Deep claw marks;
They haven't grown yet
And they didn't close. but the earth
A damp cover will refresh them
And death will live forever.
I forgot about them then.
And, once again gathering the rest of the forces,
I wandered into the depths of the forest ...
But in vain I argued with fate:
She laughed at me!

I left the forest. And so
The day woke up, and a round dance
The parting luminaries disappeared
in its rays. Foggy forest
He spoke. Far away aul
Started smoking. A vague rumble
In the valley with the wind ran ...
I sat down and began to listen;
But he fell silent with the breeze.
And I cast my eyes around:
That region seemed familiar to me.
And I was scared to understand
I couldn't take that long again
I returned to my prison;
What is useless for so many days
I caressed a secret plan,
Endured, languished and suffered,
And why all? .. So that in the color of years,
Barely looking at God's light,
With the sonorous murmur of oak forests
Having known the bliss of liberty,
Take it to your grave
Longing for the homeland of the saint,
The hopes of the deceived reproach
And shame on your pity!
Still immersed in doubt
I thought it was a bad dream...
Suddenly distant bells ring
Resounded again in silence -
And then everything became clear to me...
Oh, I recognized him immediately!
He has more than once from children's eyes
Chased visions of living dreams
About dear neighbors and relatives,
About the will of the wild steppes,
About light, mad horses,
About wonderful battles between the rocks,
Where all alone I won! ..
And I listened without tears, without strength.
It seemed that the call was coming out
From the heart - like someone
He struck me in the chest with iron.
And then I vaguely understood
What is the trace to my homeland
Never lay.

Yes, I deserve my lot!
Mighty horse, alien in the steppe,
Dropping a bad rider
Home from afar
Find a direct and shortcut…
What am I to him? Vain chest
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
Dream game, disease of the mind.
I'm stamped with my prison
Left ... Such is the flower
Dungeon: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp plates,
And long leaves young
Did not dissolve, everyone was waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Gone, and a good hand
Sadly touched the flower
And he was transferred to the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
Breathed the sweetness of being...
But what? As soon as dawn came
A scorching ray burned her
A flower bred in prison...

And like him, scorched me
The fire of a merciless day.
In vain I hid in the grass
My tired chapter
A withered leaf is her crown
Thorn over my brow
Coiled, and in the face with fire
The earth itself breathed to me.
Glittering quickly in the sky,
Sparks swirled from white rocks
Steam flowed. The world of God slept
In a dumb daze
Despair heavy sleep.
At least the corncrake shouted,
Ile dragonfly live trill
I heard, or a stream
Baby talk ... Only a snake,
Rustling dry weeds,
Glittering yellow back
As if with a golden inscription
Blade covered to the bottom
Wandering loose sand.
Sliding carefully, then,
Playing, basking on it,
Triple twisted in a ring;
That, as if suddenly burned,
She rushed, she jumped
And hid in the distant bushes ...

And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through the vapors
Two mountains loomed in the distance.
Our monastery because of one
Glittered with battlements.
Below Aragva and Kura,
Silver edging
The soles of the fresh islands,
Through the roots of the whispering bushes
They ran together and easily ...
I was far from them!
I wanted to get up - in front of me
Everything swirled with speed;
I wanted to scream - my tongue is dry
Silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Mortal raving. It seemed to me
That I'm lying on the wet bottom
Deep river - and was
Around the mysterious haze.
And I crave eternal sing,
Like a cold stream of ice
Bubbling, poured into my chest ...
And I was afraid only to fall asleep,
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the sky
The wave pressed against the wave.
And the sun through the crystal waves
Shine sweeter than the moon...
And colorful herds of fish
Sometimes they played in the rays.
And I remember one of them:
She is friendlier than others.
She caressed me. Scales
Was covered in gold
Her back. She curled
Over my head more than once
And her green eyes
It was sadly tender and deep ...
And I could not be surprised:
Her silvery voice
He whispered strange words to me,
And he sang, and fell silent again.
He said: "My child,
Stay here with me
Free life in the water
And cold and calm.

I will call my sisters:
We are a circular dance
Cheer up the misty eyes
And your spirit is tired.

Sleep, your bed is soft
Your cover is transparent.
Years will pass, centuries will pass
Under the voice of wonderful dreams.

Oh my dear! I don't hide
That I love you,
I love like a free stream
I love my life…”
And for a long, long time I listened;
And it seemed like a sonorous stream
She poured out her quiet murmur
With the words of a golden fish.
Here I forgot. God's light
Faded in the eyes. crazy delirium
I gave in to the impotence of the body ...

So I was found and raised...
You know the rest yourself.
I finished. believe my words
Or don't believe me, I don't care.
There is only one thing that makes me sad:
My corpse is cold and dumb
Will not smolder in the native land,
And the story of my bitter torments
Will not call between the walls of the deaf
Attention mournful draw
In my dark name.

Farewell, father ... give me your hand:
You feel mine on fire...
Know this flame from a young age
Hiding, lived in my chest;
But now he has no food,
And he burned his prison
And return again to
Who is all in a lawful succession
Gives pain and peace...
But what's in it for me? - let it be in paradise
In the holy, transcendent land
My spirit will find its home...
Alas! - in a few minutes
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where I played as a child
I would trade heaven and eternity...

When I start to die
And believe me, you won't have to wait long
You led me to move
In our garden, in the place where they bloomed
White acacia two bushes ...
The grass between them is so thick
And the fresh air is so fragrant
And so transparent and golden
Leaf playing in the sun!
They put me there.
By the glow of a blue day
I'm drunk for the last time.
From there you can see the Caucasus!
Perhaps he is from his heights
Greetings farewell will send me,
Will send with a cool breeze ...
And close to me before the end
The native sound will be heard again!
And I will think that a friend
Or brother, leaning over me,
Oter with attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death
And what sings in an undertone
He told me about a lovely country ..
And with this thought I fall asleep
And I won’t curse anyone!…”

Analysis of the poem "Mtsyri" by Lermontov

The poem "Mtsyri" is one of the most famous works of Lermontov. In it, the poet was able to depict the nature of the Caucasus with amazing artistic skill. No less valuable is the semantic content of the poem. It is a monologue of a romantic hero who is dying in the struggle for freedom.

The creation of the poem has a long history. The idea of history came to Lermontov while reading Byron's The Prisoner of Chillon. He consistently develops it in the poem "Confession" and the poem "Boyarin Orsha". Subsequently, the author will completely transfer some lines from these works to Mtsyri. The immediate source for the poem is a story that Lermontov learned in Georgia. The captive highlander child was sent to be raised in a monastery. Possessing a rebellious character, the child tried to escape several times. One of these attempts almost ended in his death. The boy resigned himself and lived to a ripe old age as a monk. Lermontov was very interested in the story of "Mtsyri" (in translation from Georgian - novice). He took advantage of past developments, added elements of Georgian folklore and created an original poem (1839).

The plot of the poem completely repeats the story of a monk with the exception of one important detail. In reality, the boy survived, but in the work of Lermontov, the final point was not set. The child is near death, his whole monologue is a farewell to life. Only his death seems to be a natural ending.

In the image of a wild child from the point of view of civilization, a romantic hero appears before us. He did not long enjoy a free life among his people. Capture and imprisonment in a monastery deprive him of the opportunity to experience the beauty and splendor of the infinite world. An innate sense of independence makes him laconic and unsociable. His main desire is to escape to his homeland.
During a storm, taking advantage of the fear of the monks, the boy runs away from the monastery. He opens up a beautiful picture of nature untouched by man. Under this impression, memories of his mountain village come to the boy. This emphasizes the inseparable connection of the patriarchal society with the outside world. This connection has been irretrievably lost by modern man.

The child decides to get to his native hearth. But he cannot find the way and realizes that he is lost. The fight with the leopard is an unusually vivid scene in the poem. Its fantasticness further emphasizes the individualism of the protagonist, his proud and unyielding spirit. The resulting wounds deprive the boy of his last strength. He realizes with bitterness that he has returned to where he came from.

Talking to an old man main character does not regret his actions at all. Three days spent in freedom are worth his whole life in the monastery. He is not afraid of death. Existence in captivity seems unbearable to the boy, especially because he felt the sweetness of free life.

"Mtsyri" is an outstanding work of Russian romanticism, which can be attributed to the masterpieces of world classics.

Eating, tasting a little honey, and now I die.

1st Book of Kings.

A few years ago

Where merging noise

Hugging like two sisters

Jets of Aragva and Kura,

There was a monastery. Because of the mountain

And now he sees a pedestrian

Collapsed gate pillars

And the towers, and the church vault;

But don't smoke under it

Incense burners fragrant smoke,

Can't hear singing at a late hour

Praying monks for us.

Now one old man is gray-haired,

The ruins guard half-dead,

Forgotten by people and death,

Sweeps the dust off the tombstones

Which the inscription says

About the glory of the past - and about

How dejected by his crown,

Such and such a king, in such and such a year,

He handed over his people to Russia.

And God's grace came down

To Georgia! - she bloomed

Since then, in the shade of their gardens,

Without fear of enemies

Beyond friendly bayonets.

Once a Russian general

I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;

He was carrying a prisoner child.

He fell ill, could not bear

Works of a long way.

He seemed to be about six years old;

Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild

And weak and flexible, like a reed.

But it has a painful ailment

Developed then a mighty spirit

His fathers. He has no complaints

Languished - even a weak groan

Did not fly out of children's lips,

He rejected food with a sign,

And quietly, proudly died.

Out of pity, one monk

He looked after the patient, and within the walls

He remained protective

Saved by friendly art.

But, alien to childish pleasures,

At first he ran from everyone,

I wandered silently, alone,

Looked sighing to the east

Tommy obscure melancholy

On the side of his own.

But after that he got used to captivity,

I began to understand a foreign language,

Was baptized by the holy father

And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,

Already wanted in the color of years

Take a monastic vow

How suddenly one day he disappeared

Autumn night. Dark forest

Stretched around the mountains.

Three days all searches for him

Were in vain, but then

They found him in the steppe without feelings

And again they brought to the monastery;

He was terribly pale and thin

And weak, like a long labor,

He experienced sickness or hunger.

He didn't answer the interrogation.

And every day noticeably sluggish;

And his end was near.

Then a black man came to him

With admonition and prayer;

And, having proudly listened, the patient

I got up, gathering the rest of my strength,

And for a long time he said:

"You listen to my confession

Came here, thank you.

Everything is better in front of someone

Lighten my chest with words;

But I did not harm people,

And so my deeds

Not much good for you to know;

Can you tell your soul?

I lived little, and lived in captivity.

Such two lives in one

But only full of anxiety

I would change if I could.

I knew only one thought power,

One - but fiery passion:

She, like a worm, lived in me,

It gnawed at the soul and burned it.

She called my dreams

From stuffy cells and prayers

In that wonderful world of worries and battles,

Where rocks hide in the clouds

Where people are free as eagles.

I am this passion in the darkness of the night

Nurtured with tears and longing;

Her before heaven and earth

I now loudly acknowledge

And I don't ask for forgiveness.

"Old man! I heard many times

That you saved me from death -

What for? ... gloomy and lonely,

A torn leaf by a thunderstorm,

I grew up in dark walls

The soul of a child, the fate of a monk.

I couldn't tell anyone

The sacred words are "father" and "mother".

Of course you wanted, old man,

So that I wean in the monastery

From these sweet names.

In vain: their sound was born

With me. I have seen others

Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,

And I did not find

Not only sweet souls - graves!

Then, without wasting empty tears,

In my heart I swore an oath:

Though for a moment someday

my burning chest

Press with longing to the chest of another,

Though unfamiliar, but native.

Alas, now those dreams

Died in full beauty

And I, as I lived, in a foreign land

I will die a slave and an orphan.

“The grave does not scare me:

There, they say, suffering sleeps

In cold, eternal silence;

But I'm sorry to part with my life.

I'm young, young... Did you know

Rampant youth dreams?

Or didn't know or forgot

How I hated and loved;

How the heart beat faster

At the sight of the sun and fields

From the high corner tower,

Where the air is fresh and where sometimes

In a deep hole in the wall

Child of an unknown country

Clinging, young dove

Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?

Let the beautiful light now

I hate you: you are weak, you are gray,

And from desires you weaned.

What is the need? You lived, old man!

You have something in the world to forget

You lived - I could also live!

"Do you want to know what I saw

At will? - Lush fields

Crowned hills

Trees growing all around

Noisy fresh crowd,

Like brothers in a circular dance.

I saw heaps of dark rocks

When the stream separated them,

And I guessed their thoughts:

It was given to me from above!

Stretched out in the air for a long time

Their stone hugs

And they long for a meeting every moment;

But the days are running, the years are running -

They will never get along!

I saw mountain ranges

Weird like dreams

When at dawn

Smoked like altars

Their heights in the blue sky

And cloud after cloud

Leaving your secret lodging,

Run directed to the east -

Like a white caravan

Passing birds from distant lands!

In the distance I saw through the fog

In the snows burning like a diamond

Gray-haired, unshakable Caucasus;

And my heart was

Easy, I don't know why.

That once I lived there,

And it became in my memory

The past is clearer, clearer.

And I remembered my father's house,

Our gorge, and all around

In the shadow of a scattered aul;

I heard the evening roar

Home of the running herds

And the distant barking of familiar dogs.

I remembered swarthy old men,

In the light of moonlit evenings

Against the father's porch

Sitting with the importance of the face;

And the sheen of the rimmed scabbard

Long daggers... and like a dream

It's all a blur

Suddenly it ran in front of me.

And my father? he is alive

In your combat clothes

Appeared to me and I remembered

Chain mail ringing, and the gleam of a gun,

And a proud, unyielding gaze,

And my young sisters...

The rays of their sweet eyes

And the sound of their songs and speeches

Above my cradle...

In the gorge there ran a stream,

It was noisy, but not deep;

To him, on the golden sand,

I left to play at noon

And watched the swallows with a glance,

When they, before the rain,

The waves touched the wing.

And I remembered our peaceful home

And before the evening hearth

Long stories about

How did the people of the past live?

When the world was even richer.

"Do you want to know what I did

At will? Lived - and my life

Without these three blessed days

It would be sadder and gloomier

Your powerless old age.

Long time ago I thought

Look at the distant fields

Find out if the earth is beautiful

Find out for freedom or prison

We will be born into this world.

And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour,

When the storm scared you

When, crowding at the altar,

You lay prostrate on the ground

I ran. Oh I'm like a brother

I would be happy to embrace the storm!

With the eyes of the clouds I followed

I caught lightning with my hand ...

Tell me what's between these walls

Could you give me in return

That friendship is short, but alive,

Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm? ..

“I ran for a long time - where, where,

Don't know! not a single star

Didn't light up the hard way.

I had fun inhaling

Into my tormented chest

The night freshness of those forests

But only. I have many hours

I ran, and finally, tired,

Lie down between tall grasses;

I listened: there is no chase.

The storm has subsided. pale light

Stretched in a long strip

Between dark sky and earth

And I distinguished, like a pattern,

On it are the teeth of distant mountains;

Motionless, silently I lay.

Sometimes in the gorge a jackal

Screaming and crying like a child

And shining with smooth scales,

The snake slithered between the stones;

But fear did not grip my soul:

I myself, like a beast, was a stranger to people

And he crawled and hid like a snake.

"Down deep below me

A stream reinforced by a thunderstorm

Noisy, and its noise is deaf

Got it. Although without words

I understood that conversation

Silent murmur, eternal dispute

With a stubborn pile of stones.

Then he suddenly subsided, then stronger

It resounded in the silence;

And so, in the misty sky

The birds sang, and the east

got rich; breeze

Raw stirred the sheets;

Sleepy flowers died,

And like them, towards the day,

I raised my head...

I looked around; don't melt:

I became afraid; on the edge

Of the threatening abyss I lay,

Where howled, spinning, an angry shaft;

There were steps of rocks;

But only an evil spirit walked on them,

When, cast down from heaven,

Disappeared in an underground abyss.

“God's garden bloomed around me;

Plant rainbow outfit

Kept traces of heavenly tears,

And curls of vines

Curled, showing off between the trees

Transparent green sheets;

And the clusters are full on them,

Earrings like expensive ones,

They hung magnificently, and sometimes

A shy swarm of birds flew towards them.

And again I fell to the ground,

And began to listen again

They whispered through the bushes

As if they were speaking

About the secrets of heaven and earth;

Merged here; did not ring out

In solemn praise hour

Only a man's proud voice.

Everything I felt then

Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;

But I would like to tell them

To live, even mentally, again.

That morning there was a vault of heaven

So pure that an angel's flight

A diligent eye could follow;

He was so transparently deep

So full of smooth blue!

I'm in it with my eyes and soul

Drowned while the midday heat

My dreams are not dispersed

And I became thirsty.

"Then to the stream from on high,

Holding on to flexible bushes

From stove to stove I did my best

Started going down. From under your feet

Breaking off, the stone sometimes

Rolled down - behind him the reins

It smoked, the ashes curled like a pillar;

Buzzing and jumping, then

He was absorbed by the wave;

And I hung over the deep

But free youth is strong,

And death seemed not terrible!

Only I am from steep heights

Went down, the freshness of the mountain waters

blew towards me,

Instantly hiding between the bushes,

Embraced by involuntary trembling,

I looked up fearfully

And he began to listen eagerly.

And closer, closer everything sounded

So artlessly alive

So sweetly free, as if he

Only the sounds of friendly names

I was taught to pronounce.

It was a simple song

But she got into my mind,

And to me, only dusk comes,

Her invisible spirit sings.

"Holding a pitcher over your head,

Georgian narrow path

Went down to the beach. Sometimes

She slipped between the stones

Laughing at their awkwardness.

And her outfit was poor;

And she walked easily, back

Curves long veils

Throwing back. summer heat

Covered in golden shadow

Her face and chest; and heat

I breathed from her mouth and cheeks.

And the darkness of the eyes was so deep

So full of secrets of love

What are my ardent thoughts

Were embarrassed. I only remember

Pitcher ringing - when the jet

Slowly poured into him

And a rustle ... nothing more.

When did I wake up again

And drained the blood from my heart

She was already far away;

And she walked at least quieter, but easily,

Slender under her burden,

Like a poplar, the king of her fields!

Far away, in the cool haze,

Seemed rooted to the rock

Two sakli as a friendly couple;

Above a flat roof

Blue smoke billowed.

I see as if now

As the door slowly opened...

And closed again!

I know you don't understand

My longing, my sadness;

And if I could, I would be sorry:

Memories of those moments

In me, let them die with me.

"I am exhausted by the labors of the night,

I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream

I closed my eyes involuntarily ...

And again I saw in a dream

Georgian image of a young.

And strange, sweet longing

Again my chest ached.

For a long time I tried to breathe -

And woke up. Already the moon

Above shone, and alone

Only a cloud crept after her

As for your prey,

Embrace greedy opening.

The world was dark and silent;

Only silver fringe

Snow chain tops

Away sparkled before me,

Yes, a stream splashed on the banks.

In the familiar sakla a light

It trembled, then went out again:

In heaven at midnight

So the bright star goes out!

I wanted ... but I'm there

I didn't dare to go up. I have one goal

Go to your native country

He had in his soul - and overcame

The suffering of hunger, as he could.

And here is the straight road

He set off, timid and dumb.

But soon in the depths of the forest

Lost in sight of the mountains

And then he started to go astray.

“In vain in a rage, sometimes,

I tore with a desperate hand

Blackthorn tangled with ivy:

All the forest was, the eternal forest around,

Terrible and thicker every hour;

And a million black eyes

Watched the darkness of the night

Through the branches of every bush...

My head was spinning;

I began to climb trees;

But even at the edge of heaven

It was the same jagged forest.

Then I fell to the ground;

And sobbed in a frenzy,

And gnawed at the damp breast of the earth,

And tears, tears flowed

In it with combustible dew ...

But trust me, human help

I did not want ... I was a stranger

For them forever, like a beast of the steppe;

And if even a minute cry

I cheated - I swear, old man,

I would tear out my weak tongue.

"Do you remember childhood years:

I never knew tears;

But then I cried without shame.

Who could see? Just a dark forest

Yes, the month that floated in the sky!

Illuminated by his beam

Covered in moss and sand

impenetrable wall

Surrounded, in front of me

There was a field. Suddenly on it

A shadow flashed, and two lights

Sparks flew ... and then

Some kind of beast in one leap

He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,

Playing backwards on the sand.

That was the desert's eternal guest -

Mighty bar. raw bone

He gnawed and squealed merrily;

That bloody gaze directed,

Wagging your tail gently

For a full month - and on it

The wool was sheen with silver.

I waited, grabbing a horned bough,

A minute of battle; heart suddenly

Ignited by the will to fight

And blood ... yes, the hand of fate

She took me in a different direction...

But now I'm sure

What could be in the land of fathers

Not one of the last daredevils.

"I was waiting. And in the shadow of the night

He sensed the enemy, and howl

Drawling, plaintive, like a groan,

There was suddenly ... and he began

Angrily paw dig sand,

He stood on his hind legs, then lay down,

And the first crazy jump

I was threatened with a terrible death ...

But I warned him.

My blow was true and fast.

My reliable bitch is like an axe,

His wide forehead was cut ...

He groaned like a man

And capsized. But again

Although blood poured from the wound

Thick, wide wave,

The battle has begun, the deadly battle!

“To me, he threw himself on his chest;

But in the throat I managed to stick

And then turn twice

My weapon... He howled,

I rushed with my last strength,

And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,

Hugging tightly two friends,

Fell at once, and in the darkness

The fight continued on the ground.

And I was terrible at that moment;

Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,

I burned, squealed like him;

As if I myself were born

In the family of leopards and wolves

Under the fresh forest canopy.

It seemed that the words of people

I forgot - and in my chest

That terrible cry was born

As if from childhood my tongue

I'm not used to the sound...

But my enemy began to languish,

Move, breathe slower

Squeezed me for the last time...

The pupils of his motionless eyes

Flashed menacingly - and then

Closed quietly eternal sleep;

But with a triumphant enemy

He met death face to face

As a fighter follows in battle! ..

"You see on my chest

Deep claw marks;

They haven't grown yet

And they didn't close. but the earth

A damp cover will refresh them,

And death will live forever.

I forgot about them then.

And, once again gathering the rest of the forces,

I wandered into the depths of the forest ...

But in vain I argued with fate:

She laughed at me!

“I came out of the forest. And so

The day woke up, and a round dance

The parting luminaries disappeared

in its rays. Foggy forest

He spoke. Far away aul

Started smoking. A vague rumble

In the valley with the wind ran ...

I sat down and began to listen;

But he fell silent with the breeze.

And I cast my eyes around:

That region seemed familiar to me.

And I was scared to understand

I couldn't take that long again

I returned to my prison;

What is useless for so many days

I caressed a secret plan,

Endured, languished and suffered,

And why? .. So that in the color of years,

Barely looking at God's light,

With the sonorous murmur of oak forests,

Having known the bliss of liberty,

Take it to your grave

Longing for the homeland of the saint,

The hopes of the deceived reproach

And shame on your pity!

Still immersed in doubt

I thought it was a bad dream...

Suddenly distant bells ring

Resounded again in silence

And then everything became clear to me ...

O! I recognized him immediately!

He has more than once from children's eyes

Chased visions of living dreams

About dear neighbors and relatives,

About the will of the wild steppes,

About light, mad horses,

About wonderful battles between the rocks,

Where all alone I won! ..

And I listened without tears, without strength.

It seemed that the call was coming out

From the heart - like someone

He struck me in the chest with iron.

And then I vaguely understood

What is the trace to my homeland

Never lay.

“Yes, I have earned my lot!

Mighty horse in the steppe of a stranger,

Dropping a bad rider

Home from afar

Find a direct and short path ...

What am I to him? Vain chest

Full of desire and longing:

That heat is powerless and empty,

Dream game, disease of the mind.

I'm stamped with my prison

Left ... Such is the flower

Dungeon: grew up alone

And he is pale between the damp plates,

And long leaves young

Did not dissolve, everything was waiting for the rays

Life-giving. And many days

Gone, and a good hand

Sadness touched the flower,

And he was transferred to the garden,

In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides

Breathed the sweetness of being...

But what? As soon as dawn came

A scorching beam burned her

A flower bred in prison...

"And like him, scorched me

The fire of a merciless day.

In vain I hid in the grass

My weary head;

A withered leaf is her crown

Thorn over my brow

Coiled, and in the face with fire

The earth itself breathed to me.

Glittering quickly in the sky,

Sparks swirled; from the white rocks

Steam flowed. The world of God slept

In a dumb daze

Despair heavy sleep.

At least the corncrake shouted,

Ile dragonfly live trill

I heard, or a stream

Baby talk ... Only a snake,

Rustling dry weeds,

Glittering yellow back

As if with a golden inscription

Blade covered to the bottom

Wandering loose sand,

Sliding carefully; after,

Playing, basking on it,

Triple twisted in a ring;

That, as if suddenly burned,

She rushed, she jumped

And hid in the distant bushes ...

And everything was in heaven

Light and quiet. Through the vapors

Two mountains blackened in the distance,

Our monastery because of one

Glittered with battlements.

Below Aragva and Kura,

Silver edging

The soles of the fresh islands,

Through the roots of the whispering bushes

They ran together and easily ...

I was far from them!

I wanted to get up - in front of me

Everything swirled with speed;

I wanted to scream - my tongue is dry

Silent and motionless...

I was dying. I was tormented

Mortal raving.

It seemed to me

That I'm lying on the wet bottom

Deep river - and was

Around the mysterious haze.

And I crave eternal sing,

Like ice cold stream

The murmur poured into my chest ...

And I was only afraid to fall asleep

It was so sweet, I love it...

And above me in the sky

Wave crashed into wave

Between steep and dark rocks,

Where I played as a child

I would trade heaven and eternity...

"When I begin to die,

And, believe me, you won't have to wait long -

You led me to move

In our garden, in the place where they bloomed

White acacia two bushes ...

The grass between them is so thick

And the fresh air is so fragrant

And so transparently golden

Leaf playing in the sun!

They put me there.

By the glow of a blue day

I'm drunk for the last time.

From there you can see the Caucasus!

Perhaps he is from his heights

Greetings farewell will send me,

Will send with a cool breeze ...

And close to me before the end

The native sound will be heard again!

And I will think that a friend

Or brother, leaning over me,

Oter with attentive hand

Cold sweat from the face of death

He tells me about a lovely country ...

And with this thought I fall asleep

And I won't curse anyone!"

Notes

Published according to "Poems by M. Lermontov", St. Petersburg, 1840, pp. 121-159, where the poem was first published. Poems (censorship passes) are restored according to the manuscript, part of which is an authorized copy, part is an autograph (title page, epigraph and some verses) - IRLI, op. 1, No. 13 (notebook XIII), ll. 1-14 about.

On the cover of notebook XIII there is Lermontov's note: "August 5, 1839". This mark is the basis for dating the poem. The date "1840" given in the 1840 edition of "Poems" is not accurate. The differences between the text of "Poems" of 1840 and the manuscript are insignificant: the title of the poem has been changed (the poem was originally titled "Bary") and several author's corrections have been made.

The poem "Mtsyri" is connected with the earlier "Confession" (1829-1830) and "Boyarin Orsha" (1835-1836). A number of verses were transferred from "Confession" to "Boyar Orsha". On the other hand, many of the poems of Boyar Orsha were subsequently included in the text of Mtsyri. The verses of "Confession" and "Boyar Orsha" almost coincide; "Boyarina Orsha" and "Mtsyri".

There is a story by P. A. Viskovatov about the origin of the idea of the poem, based on the testimony of A. P. Shan-Girey and A. A. Khastatov. The poet, wandering in 1837 along the old Georgian Military Highway, “stumbled in Mtskheta ... on a lonely monk, or, rather, the old monastery servant “Beri” in Georgian. The watchman was the last of the brethren of the abolished nearby monastery. Lermontov got into a conversation with him and learned from him that he was a mountaineer, captured by a child by General Yermolov during the expedition. The general took him with him and left the sick boy to the monastery brethren. Here he grew up; For a long time he could not get used to the monastery, he yearned and made attempts to escape to the mountains. The consequence of one such attempt was a long illness that brought him to the brink of the grave. Having recovered, the savage calmed down and remained in the monastery, where he became especially attached to the old monk. The curious and lively story "Bary" impressed Lermontov ... and so he decided to use what was suitable in "Confession" and "Boyar Orsha", and transferred all the action from Spain and then the Lithuanian border to Georgia. Now, in the hero of the poem, he could reflect the daring of the adamant free sons of the Caucasus, which he liked, and in the poem itself, depict the beauties of Caucasian nature ”(“ Russian Starina ”, 1887, No. 10, pp. 124–125).

In the literature about Lermontov, some inaccuracies were pointed out in the cited story of Viskovatov (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov. Ed. "Soviet writer", M., 1951, pp. 150-154).

"Mtsyri" consists of 26 small chapters and is almost entirely a monologue of the hero.

At the beginning of the poem, Lermontov described the ancient Mtskheta Cathedral and the graves of the last Georgian kings, Heraclius II and George XII, under which Georgia was annexed to Russia in 1801.

The central episode "Mtsyri" - the battle of the hero with the leopard - is based on the motifs of Georgian folk poetry, in particular the Khevsur song about a tiger and a young man, the theme of which is also reflected in Shota Rustaveli's poem "The Knight in the Panther's Skin" (see: Irakli Andronikov. Lermontov Publishing house "Soviet writer", M., 1951, pp. 144-150). There are 14 versions of the ancient Georgian song “The Youth and the Tiger” published by A. G. Shanidze (see: L. P. Semenov. Lermontov and the folklore of the Caucasus. Pyatigorsk, 1941, pp. 60–62).

The revolutionary democrats were close to the rebellious pathos of the poem "Mtsyri". “What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is the favorite ideal of our poet, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, it breathes with his own spirit, strikes him with his own power, ”wrote V. G. Belinsky (Belinsky, vol. 6, p. 54).

According to N. P. Ogarev, Lermontov’s Mtsyri is “his most clear, or only ideal” (N. Ogarev. Preface to the collection “Russian Secret Literature of the 19th Century”, Part I, London, 1861, p. LXVI) .

"Mtsyri" is the most famous romantic poem by M. Yu. Lermontov. In the center of the plot is a lyrical rebel hero who seeks to know the world and understand yourself. The action takes place in the Caucasus. This land for the author has become a symbol of freedom and inner strength. Mtsyri's escape from the monastery and his goals have been discussed by readers and literary critics for many years.

The plot of a romantic poem

As a child, the black man was captured by a Russian general. The officer left the weak sick boy in the monastery. There he grew up, learned a foreign language, got used to local traditions. But the monk always sought to return to his native land, so he tried to escape. None of them ended in success. Lermontov was inspired by the willpower of the monk and his desire for freedom. Two years after his exile, he set about creating a poem that became a symbol of inner and physical freedom.

At the beginning of the work, it tells about how Mtsyri got into the monastery and in what place he had to live for several years. The plot of the poem echoes the story of a monk. The boy grew up within the walls of the monastery and, it would seem, resigned himself to his fate. But on the eve of the tonsure ceremony, 17-year-old Mtsyri escapes.

The author deliberately indicates how long the hero was absent. Mtsyri was at liberty for only 3 days. All this time he was starving, hiding from people, wandering through the dense forests. But even in such a short period, he was able to know freedom. The author tells what Mtsyri did when he escaped from the monastery. The fugitive admired the majestic Caucasian landscapes, watched a young Georgian girl, bravely fought with a leopard. Every day in the wild was worth a lifetime in the monastery.

Soon the young man returns to the monastery, where he is found unconscious by the monks. Waking up, the hero realized that he was again in his "prison". Before his death, he confesses to an old monk. The last speech of the fugitive makes it possible to understand what the goals of Mtsyri's escape are. He confesses that the only passion of his life was freedom.

The Caucasus in the works of M. Yu. Lermontov is a symbol of liberty, freedom of thoughts and feelings. The monastery, on the contrary, personifies a prison from which it is impossible to get out voluntarily.

Reasons for the escape

The protagonist did not return to his homeland and did not gain the desired liberty, but in a short period he was able to grow physically and spiritually. The author identifies several goals for the hero's escape from the monastery.

Knowledge of the world around

From the age of six, Mtsyri grew up in a monastery. During this time, he was never able to come to terms with captivity and accept other people's traditions. The attitude of the young man to this place is expressed in quotations from the confession. He calls the monastery "stuffy cells", "gloomy walls", "prison". The young man directly voices one of the goals of the escape to the old monk. He desires to "know whether the earth is beautiful."

The hero did not stop dreaming about returning to his native land. Mtsyri planned to escape for a long time and was just waiting for the right moment. He did it during a thunderstorm and strong storm. These elements frightened the monks, they preferred to hide in their cells, but Mtsyri felt a close connection with nature. Breaking free, he was glad to "embrace the storm."

At large, the fugitive admired:

"lush fields";
"a pile of dark rocks";
"caravan of stray birds";
"gray-haired unshakable Caucasus".

Even getting lost in the forest, Mtsyri does not want to meet people. Only alone with nature can he afford to be natural. For the first time in years, he cries.

Desire to return home

The action takes place during the Caucasian war between Russia and the mountaineer tribes. The proud people were distinguished by love of freedom and disobedience. In the second chapter of the work, Lermontov mentions how old Mtsyri lived in the monastery. Although the boy was captured at the age of 6, he is aware of belonging to his people.

The landscapes of the Caucasus reminded the young man of his native land. Mtsyri recalls:

father's house;
aul and its environs;
herds;
young sisters;
father in combat clothes;
old people.

Living in a monastery, he dreams of "pressing with longing to his chest" a loved one. Mtsyri did not achieve this goal. He asks to be buried in the far corner of the garden, where the outlines of his native mountains can be seen.

Search for inner freedom

The theme of spiritual freedom occupies an important place in the work of M. Yu. Lermontov. The lyrical heroes of his works are opposed to the surrounding world. Mtsyri is the most prominent freedom fighter in Russian literature of the 19th century. For the sake of will, the main character is ready for anything:

Resist the elements of nature.
Fight your own feelings at the sight of a beautiful Georgian girl.
Engage in a fight with a mighty leopard.
Experience thirst and hunger.

In the wild, the fugitive comes to the important conclusion that life is impossible without will. Every person should be given freedom of choice and thought. The young man was deprived of these rights from childhood.

The wounds inflicted by the leopard are not fatal, but Mtsyri still dies. Having been at liberty, he cannot be in a monastery. The long-awaited freedom he gains only after death. Studying the reasons for the escape of the protagonist of the poem will help to compose a story on the topic "Life of Mtsyra in the monastery" and get a good grade.

And God's grace came down
To Georgia! She bloomed
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies
3a the edge of friendly bayonets.

Once a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill, could not bear
Proceedings of a long way;
He seemed to be six years old,
Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But it has a painful ailment
Developed then a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
Languished, even a weak groan
Did not fly out of children's lips,
He rejected food
And quietly, proudly died.
Out of pity, one monk
He looked after the patient, and within the walls
He remained guardian
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran from everyone,
I wandered silently, alone,
Looked, sighing, to the east,
Driven by obscure longing
On the side of his own.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized by the holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the color of years
Take a monastic vow
How suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all searches for him
Were in vain, but then
They found him in the steppe without feelings
And they brought it back to the monastery.
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, like a long labor,
He experienced sickness or hunger.
He didn't answer the interrogation.
And every day noticeably sluggish.
And his end was near;
Then a black man came to him
With admonition and prayer;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
I got up, gathering the rest of my strength,
And for a long time he said:

Old man! I heard many times
That you saved me from death -
What for? .. Gloomy and lonely,
A torn leaf by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
The soul of a child, the fate of a monk.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words "father" and "mother".
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I wean in the monastery
From these sweet names, -
In vain: their sound was born
With me. And I've seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
And I did not find
Not only lovely souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my heart I swore an oath:
Though for a moment someday
my burning chest
Press with longing to the chest of another,
Though unfamiliar, but native.
Alas! now those dreams
Died in full beauty
And how I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.

The grave does not scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold eternal silence;
But I'm sorry to part with my life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
Rampant youth dreams?
Or didn't know or forgot
How I hated and loved;
How the heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall
Child of an unknown country
Clinging, young dove
Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
I'm ashamed of you; you are weak, you are gray
And from desires you weaned.
What is the need? You lived, old man!
You have something in the world to forget
You lived - I could also live!

Do you want to know what I saw
At will? - lush fields,
Crowned hills
Trees growing all around
Noisy fresh crowd,
Like brothers in a circular dance.
I saw heaps of dark rocks
When the stream separated them.
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Their stone hugs
And they long for a meeting every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Weird like dreams
When at dawn
Smoked like altars
Their heights in the blue sky
And cloud after cloud
Leaving your secret lodging,
Run directed to the east -
Like a white caravan
Passing birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the mist
In the snows burning like a diamond
Gray unshakable Caucasus;
And my heart was
Easy, I don't know why.
A secret voice told me
That once I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer ...

Exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily ...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian image of a young.
And strange sweet longing
Again my chest ached.
For a long time I tried to breathe -
And woke up. Already the moon
Above shone, and alone
Only a cloud crept after her,
As for your prey,
Embrace greedy opening.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Snow chain tops
Away sparkled before me
Yes, a stream splashed on the banks.
In the familiar sakla a light
It trembled, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So the bright star goes out!
I wanted ... but I'm there
I didn't dare to go up. I have one goal
Go to your native country -
He had in his soul and overcame
The suffering of hunger, as he could.
And here is the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost in sight of the mountains
And then he started to go astray.

Do you remember your childhood years?
I never knew tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Only dark forest
Yes, the month that floated in the sky!
Illuminated by his beam
Covered in moss and sand
impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a field. Suddenly in her
A shadow flashed, and two lights
Sparks flew ... and then
Some kind of beast in one leap
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
Playing, back on the sand.
That was the desert's eternal guest -
Mighty bar. raw bone
He gnawed and squealed merrily;
That bloody gaze directed,
Wagging your tail gently
For a full month - and on it
The wool was sheen with silver.
I waited, grabbing a horned bough,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited by the will to fight
And blood ... yes, the hand of fate
She took me in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could be in the land of fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.

I was waiting. And in the shadow of the night
He sensed the enemy, and howl
Drawling, plaintive like a groan
There was suddenly ... and he began
Angrily paw dig sand,
He stood on his hind legs, then lay down,
And the first crazy jump
I was threatened with a terrible death ...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and fast.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead was cut ...
He groaned like a man
And capsized. But again
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, the deadly battle!

Yes, I deserve my lot!
Mighty horse, alien in the steppe,
Dropping a bad rider
Home from afar
Find a direct and short path ...
What am I to him? Vain chest
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
Dream game, disease of the mind.
I'm stamped with my prison
Left ... Such is the flower
Dungeon: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp plates,
And long leaves young
Did not dissolve, everyone was waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Gone, and a good hand
Sadly touched the flower
And he was transferred to the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
Breathed the sweetness of being...
But what? As soon as dawn came
A scorching ray burned her
A flower bred in prison...

And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through the vapors
Two mountains loomed in the distance.
Our monastery because of one
Glittered with battlements.
Below Aragva and Kura,
Silver edging
The soles of the fresh islands,
Through the roots of the whispering bushes
They ran together and easily ...
I was far from them!
I wanted to get up - in front of me
Everything swirled with speed;
I wanted to scream - my tongue is dry
Silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Mortal raving. It seemed to me
That I'm lying on the wet bottom
Deep river - and was
Around the mysterious haze.
And I crave eternal sing,
Like a cold stream of ice
Bubbling, poured into my chest ...
And I was afraid only to fall asleep, -
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the sky
The wave pressed against the wave.
And the sun through the crystal waves
Shine sweeter than the moon...
And colorful herds of fish
Sometimes they played in the rays.
And I remember one of them:
She is friendlier than others.
She caressed me. Scales
Was covered in gold
Her back. She curled
Over my head more than once
And her green eyes
It was sadly tender and deep ...
And I could not be surprised:
Her silvery voice
He whispered strange words to me,
And he sang, and fell silent again.
He said: "My child,
Stay here with me
Free life in the water
And cold and calm.

I will call my sisters:
We are a circular dance
Cheer up the misty eyes
And your spirit is tired.

Sleep, your bed is soft
Your cover is transparent.
Years will pass, centuries will pass
Under the voice of wonderful dreams.

Farewell, father ... give me your hand:
You feel mine on fire...
Know this flame from a young age
Hiding, lived in my chest;
But now he has no food,
And he burned his prison
And return again to
Who is all in a lawful succession
Gives pain and peace...
But what's in it for me? - let in paradise,
In the holy, transcendent land
My spirit will find its home...
Alas! - in a few minutes
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where I played as a child
I would trade heaven and eternity...