“Repair work on the railway”, 1874. Konstantin Apollonovich Savitsky (1845 – 1905) – an active participant in the “Partnership of Mobile Railways” art exhibitions" His paintings are a vivid protest against war (“To War,” 1880), religious intoxication (“Meeting of an Icon,” 1878), and exploitation.

Vanya (in the coachman’s Armenian jacket).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, as in soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...

Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
Will you allow me at moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
They found a coffin for themselves here.

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!

Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?.. “On this moonlit night
We love to see your work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.

The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..”

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove,
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;

I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!

I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to share with you...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.

Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
He took out this railway too -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
“Here they are - the builders of our road!..”
The general laughed!

“I was recently within the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
It’s a miracle of art - he took everything away!”
“I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side..."

Glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything into a book -
Did you take to the bathhouse, did you lie sick:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing... well done!.. well done!..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - I give you the arrears!..”

Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!

The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
With a shout of “Hurray!” rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..

Vania(in a coachman's jacket).
Dad! who built this road?

Dad(in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...

Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
You will allow me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
They found a coffin for themselves here.

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!

Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?.. “On this moonlit night
We love to see your work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.

The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..”

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove,
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;

I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!

I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to share with you...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.

Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
He also took out this railway -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and He he told me:
“Here they are - the builders of our road!..”
The general laughed!

“I was recently within the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
It’s a miracle of art - he took everything away!”
“I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side..."

Glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything into the book -
Did you take to the bathhouse, did you lie sick:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing O...well done A!..well done A!..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
AND - I give away the arrears!..»

Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!

The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
With a shout of “Hurray!” rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..

Analysis of the poem “The Railway” by Nekrasov

The overwhelming part of Nekrasov’s work is dedicated to the ordinary Russian people, describing their troubles and suffering. He believed that a real poet should not wander away from reality into romantic illusions. Poem " Railway» - shining example civil lyrics poet. It was written in 1864 and dedicated to the construction of the Nikolaev railway (1843-1851).

The railway between St. Petersburg and Moscow became a grandiose project. It significantly raised the authority of Russia and reduced the gap with developed European countries.

At the same time, construction was carried out using backward methods. The labor of state and serf peasants was actually slave labor. The state did not take into account the victims, in difficult times physical work Many people died in unbearable conditions.

The introduction to the work is Nekrasov’s subtle irony. The general calls the builder of the railway not the powerless mass of workers, but Count Kleinmichel, famous for his cruelty.

The first part of the poem is a lyrical description of the beautiful view that opens before the eyes of the train passengers. Nekrasov lovingly depicts the landscape of his “native Rus'”. In the second part there is a sharp change. The narrator shows the general's son scary picture construction of a railway that he prefers not to see high society. There are thousands behind the movement towards progress peasant lives. From all over vast Rus', peasants were gathered here by the “real king” - hunger. The titanic work, like many large-scale Russian projects, is literally covered with human bones.

The third part is the opinion of a self-confident general, symbolizing the stupidity and limitations of high society. He believes that illiterate and always drunk men have no value. Only the highest creations of human art are important. In this thought one can easily discern opponents of Nekrasov’s views on the role of the creator in the life of society.

At the request of the general, the narrator shows Vanya the “bright side” of construction. The work is completed, the dead are buried, it’s time to take stock. Russia is proving to the world its progressive development. The Emperor and high society are triumphant. Construction site managers and merchants made significant profits. The workers were rewarded... with a barrel of wine and forgiveness of accumulated fines. A timid exclamation of “Hurray!” picked up by the crowd.

The picture of universal final rejoicing is incredibly bitter and sad. Long-suffering Russian people deceived again. The symbolic price of a grandiose construction project (a third of the annual budget Russian Empire), which claimed thousands of lives, was expressed for ordinary workers in a barrel of vodka. They cannot appreciate the real meaning of their work, and therefore they are grateful and happy.

encyclopedic Dictionary winged words and expressions Serov Vadim Vasilievich

It’s just a pity that we won’t have to live in this wonderful time, neither for me nor for you.

It’s just a pity that we won’t have to live in this wonderful time, neither for me nor for you.

From the poem “The Railway” (1864) by Ya. A. Nekrasova(1821 - 1877). Allegorically: regret that you will not have to see the embodiment of certain wonderful prospects (jokingly ironic).