Nekrasov is a poet whose works are imbued with genuine love for the people. He was called the "Russian folk" poet, popular not only because of the popularity of his name, but also in the very essence of poetry, in content and language.

by time highest development Nekrasov's literary gift is considered to be a period that lasted from 1856 to 1866. During these years, he found his calling, Nekrasov became an author who showed the world a striking example of the solidarity of poetry with life.

Lyrics of Nekrasov in the first half of the 1860s. touched by the difficult atmosphere that dominated society: the liberation movement was gaining momentum, peasant unrest either grew or faded. The government was not loyal: arrests of revolutionaries became more frequent. In 1864, the verdict in the case of Chernyshevsky became known: he was sentenced to hard labor with subsequent exile to Siberia. All these disturbing, confused events could not but affect the work of the poet. In 1864, Nekrasov wrote one of his outstanding works - a poem (sometimes called a poem) " Railway».

Russian road ... What poet has not written about it! There are many roads in Rus', since she is big, Mother Rus'. Road ... this word can have a special, double meaning. This is the track along which people move, and this is life, it is the same road, with its stops, retreats, defeats and moving forward.

Moscow and Petersburg are two cities, two symbols of Russia. The railroad between these cities, of course, was needed. Without a road, there is no development, no progress. But at what price it was given, this road! at the cost human lives, crippled destinies.

When creating the poem, Nekrasov relied on documentary materials about the construction of the Nikolaev railway, published in newspapers and magazines of that time. These publications often referred to the plight of people employed in construction. The work is based on a polemical dialogue between the general, who believes that the road was built by Count Kleinmichel, and the author, who convincingly proves that the true creator of this road is the people.

The action of the poem "Railway" takes place in a train car following the Nikolaev railway. Autumn landscapes flicker outside the window, colorfully described by the author in the first part of the poem. The poet involuntarily becomes a witness to the conversation of an important passenger in a general's coat with his son Vanya. When asked by his son about who built this railway, the general replies that it was built by Count Kleinmichel. This dialogue is placed in the epigraph of the poem, which was a kind of "objection" to the words of the general.

The author tells the boy about who actually built the railway. From all over Russia were collected simple people for the construction of an embankment for the railway. Their work was hard. The builders lived in dugouts, fought hunger and disease. Many died, unable to bear adversity. They were buried right there, near the railway embankment.

The emotional story of the poet seems to revive the people who gave their lives to build the road. It seems to the impressionable Vanya that the dead are running along the road, looking into the windows of the cars and singing a plaintive song about their hard lot. They tell how they froze in the rain, languished in the heat, how the foremen deceived them and how they patiently endured all the hardships of work at this construction site.

Continuing his gloomy story, the poet urges Vanya not to be ashamed of these terrible-looking people and not to hide from them with a glove. He advises the boy to learn from the Russian people the noble habit of work, to learn to respect the Russian peasant and the entire Russian people, who endured not only construction Nicholas road, but also much more. The author expresses the hope that someday the Russian people will pave a clear path for themselves in the "beautiful time":

“It will endure everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.

These lines can be attributed to the peak in the development of the lyrical plot of the poem.

Impressed by this story, Vanya tells his father that he saw with his own eyes the real builders of the road, ordinary Russian peasants. At these words, the general laughed and expressed doubt that the common people were capable of constructive work. According to the general, ordinary people are barbarians and drunkards who can only destroy. Further, the general invites the fellow traveler to show his son the bright side of the construction of the railway. The author readily agrees and describes how the men who completed the construction of the embankment were calculated. It turned out that each of them still owed their employers. And when the contractor informs the people that they are being forgiven the arrears, and they are also giving the builders a barrel of wine, the overjoyed men unharness the horses from the merchant's wagon and take him away with enthusiastic shouts. At the end of the poem, the poet ironically asks the general if it is possible to show a picture more gratifying than this one?

Despite the gloomy descriptions that fill the work, the poem can be attributed to the optimistic creations of Nekrasov. Through the lines of this great work, the poet calls on the youth of his time to believe in the Russian people, in their bright future, in the victory of goodness and justice. Nekrasov claims that the Russian people will endure not only one road, they will endure everything - they are endowed with special strength.

the main idea Nekrasov's poem "Railway" - to prove to the reader that the true creator of the railway is the Russian people, and not Count Kleinmichel.

main topic works - reflections on the harsh, dramatic fate of the Russian people.

Novelty works in that this is the first poem-poem dedicated to the creative folk labor.

Specificity works"Railway" is as follows: in its essential part, the poem is one or another form of overt and covert polemics.

Analyzing the poem by N.A. Nekrasov “Railway”, it should be noted that it is distinguished by a variety of constituent parts. There is a colorful description in the poem autumn nature, there is also a dialogue of wagon fellow travelers, which smoothly flows into mystical description crowds of dead people following the train. People who died on the construction of the road sing their sad song about the hardships that they had to endure. But at the same time they are proud of the results of their work. The train whistle destroys the eerie mirage, and the dead disappear. But the dispute between the author and the general is not yet over. All this diversity in content Nekrasov managed to withstand in a single song style.

The melodiousness and musicality of the work are also emphasized by the size of the verse chosen by the author - a four-foot dactyl. The stanzas of the poem are classical quatrains (quatrains) in which a cross-line rhyming scheme is used (the first line of the quatrain rhymes with the third line, and the second with the fourth).

In the poem "Railway" Nekrasov used a variety of facilities artistic expressiveness . There are numerous epithets in it: “fragile ice”, “frosty nights”, “good father”, “narrow embankments”, “humped back”. The author also uses comparisons: “ice ... like melting sugar”, “leaves ... lie like a carpet”, “meadowsweet ... red like copper”. Metaphors were also used: “healthy, vigorous air”, “frosty glasses”, “pit my chest”, “ clear road". In the last lines of the work, the author uses irony, asking the general a question: “It seems difficult to draw a more gratifying picture / Draw, general? ..” In poetic work there is also stylistic figures, for example, appeals: “Good dad!”, “Brothers!” and exclamations: “Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!

The poem "Railroad" is from a cohort of works related to civil lyrics. This work is the highest achievement of Nekrasov's poetic technique. It is strong in its novelty, laconism. It interestingly solved compositional problems, it is distinguished by a special perfection of poetic form.

I liked the poem "Railroad" for its specificity. Nekrasov always believed in the best; his poems are addressed to the people. Nekrasov never forgot that the purpose of poetic creativity is to remind a person of his high calling.

At the beginning of 1842, Nicholas I issued a decree on the start of construction. It was supposed to connect Moscow and St. Petersburg. All work supervised by the chief track manager P. A. Kleinmikhel was completed in record time. Already in 1852 the road was launched.

The Russian poet, Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov, dedicated one of the most significant civic poems to this event. But his attention is more attracted not so much by the benefits that the road gave, which made it possible to reduce travel time from one week to a day, but by what price Russia got it.

From the history of the creation of the work

The poem "Railway" by Nekrasov was written in 1864 and published in the journal Sovremennik. By that time, the railway between Moscow and St. Petersburg was called Nikolaevskaya, and P. A. Kleinmichel, who was distinguished by incredible cruelty towards his subordinates and compromised power, was removed from his post by Alexander II.

At the same time, the problem that the author of the work raises was very topical in the 60s of the XIX century. At this time, the construction of railways in other parts of the country began. At the same time, the working conditions and maintenance of the peasants involved in the work differed little from those described by Nekrasov.

While working on the poem, the poet studied a number of journalistic documents, including articles by N. Dobrolyubov and V. Sleptsov about the cruel attitude of managers to subordinates, published in 1860-61, which expands the temporal boundaries of the work. The surname of Kleinmichel, to a greater extent, should have diverted the attention of censorship from the relevance of the topic. But even that didn't make it any less revealing, which allows a detailed analysis to be understood. Nekrasov's "Railway" was perceived by many contemporaries as a bold denunciation of the orders that existed under Alexander II.

Composition of the poem

The work consists of 4 chapters, united by the images of the narrator (lyrical hero), the general and his son Vanyusha, who ended up together in the Moscow-Petersburg train car. The role of the exposition is played by the epigraph, designed as a dialogue between father and son. It was the general's answer to his son's question about who built this railway that forced the narrator to intervene in their conversation. The dispute that arose as a result was the basis of the poem (the plan is given below) "Railway".

Nekrasov addresses his work to the same children as Vanya. According to the poet, they must certainly know, albeit bitter, but still true story their country, because they are the future of Russia.

Chapter 1. Autumn Landscape

The beginning of the poem "Railway" by Nekrasov is imbued with a sense of admiration and peace. This tone is already set by the first line: “Glorious autumn!” For the author, the pictures of nature, flickering outside the window of the car, personify the whole of dear Rus' (from the very name, ancient and already a thing of the past, it breathes warmth and love), so unique and dear to the heart. Everything here is beautiful and harmonious, even “kochi”, “moss swamps and stumps” that fall into the field of view. From general plan only one word is knocked out that makes the reader alert: "there is no ugliness in nature ...". The question involuntarily arises: "Then where is it?"

Chapter 2

Further, Nekrasov Nikolai Alekseevich returns the reader to the epigraph and asks "daddy" not to "charm" (here - delusion) to keep his son, but to tell him the bitter truth about the creation of the road. At the beginning of the conversation, the narrator notes the fact that "this work ... is not on the shoulder alone," which means that Kleinmichel could not carry out the construction himself. Only one tsar could be stronger than the manager and even the Russian emperor - Hunger. It was he who at all times decided the fate of millions of people. To what extent the narrator is right in this statement, the following pictures drawn by the author and their analysis help to understand.

Nekrasov's "Railway" continues with a story about how innumerable the misfortunes and sufferings of the people were during the construction of the road. The first conclusion that the author makes is that these wonderful roads were built on the bones of Russians. "How many of them?!" - in this case speaks more eloquently than any words and figures. And suddenly, Vanya, dozing under the sound of wheels, sees a terrible picture. More recently, such a beautiful landscape is replaced by a description of the dead running after the car - the builders of the road. Silence and peace are broken by the sound of shovels, groans, weeping and a loud song about the suffering experienced. Many, instead of bread and money, found a grave here, since work was carried out all daylight hours from early spring to late autumn and sometimes even in winter. But the words of the dead are filled with triumph (the author speaks on their behalf, which gives even more credibility to the depicted): “We love to see our work.” It is to this “habit ... noble” - to work - that the narrator draws the attention of the boy.

Description of the Belarusian

From the crowd running after the train, the frozen figure of one of the hard workers stands out. He does not move, but only "hollows the frozen ground with a rusty shovel."

To fully understand the consequences of unbearable labor and inhuman living conditions allow detailed description his figures and appearance, as well as their analysis (Nekrasov's "Railway" is a deeply realistic work that shows everything without embellishment). Fallen eyelids and bloodless lips, skinny arms covered with ulcers and swollen legs (“always in the water”), “pit chest” and a hunchbacked back ... The author even describes a tangle in his hair - a sign of unsanitary conditions and a constant painful illness. And also monotonous, brought to automatism movements. Here the distinction between a dead and a living, but very sick person, as Nikolai Nekrasov portrays the Belarusian, is erased. As a result, the railway becomes a source of glory for some, and a grave for others. Thousands of unknown tortured people are buried in it.

So the feeling of delight caused by the beauty of nature in chapter 1 is replaced by a description of the cruel exploitation of some people by others.

Chapter 3. The role of the people in history

The locomotive whistle, like a rooster's crow, dispelled the visions that seemed so real (I recall the features of the ballad that Nekrasov successfully uses in the poem "Railway").

The idea of ​​the narrator about the great feat accomplished by the people, and Vanya's story about an amazing dream, only cause the general to laugh. For him, ordinary men are no more than drunkards, barbarians and destroyers. In his view, only true creators of beauty are worthy of admiration, and these must certainly be talented spiritual people. Aesthete at heart, recently seen best creations art in Rome and Vienna, the general despises the uneducated peasant, who, in his opinion, is not capable of anything. Including the construction of the railway. This dispute between the heroes reflected the confrontation between materialists and aesthetes that was relevant in the middle of the century about what is more useful: practicality (i.e., a clay pot) or beauty - a statue of Apollo (A. Pushkin, “The Poet and the Crowd”).

The father believes that such stories are initially harmful to the child's heart, and asks to see the "bright side" of the construction. The poem "Railway" by Nekrasov ends with a story about what reward the people received for their work.

Chapter 4

And now the rails are laid, the dead are buried, the sick lie in dugouts. It's time to get rewarded for your hard work. The foremen calculated everything during their work: “whether he took it to the bathhouse, whether the patient was lying down.” As a result, each clerk still had to stay. Against this background, the words of the labaznik, who rolled out a barrel of wine, sound ironic: “... I give you the arrears!” Sad thoughts are cast by the last chapter and its analysis. Nekrasov's "Railway" is a work not only about the labor feat of the Russian people, but also about its servile essence, which cannot be broken by anything. Tortured, impoverished, accustomed to humility, the peasant rejoiced and “rushed the merchant with a cry of“ hurrah! ”On the road ...

The image of the lyrical hero in the poem "Railway"

Nekrasov, for whom the topic of humiliation and enslavement of the people was one of the main ones, showed himself as a citizen who feels personally responsible for the fate of his native country.

The lyrical hero openly declares his position and attitude towards what becomes the subject of the image. Recognizing the downtroddenness and humility, in fact, inherent in the Russian peasant, he admires his strength of mind, strength of character, stamina and incredible hard work. Therefore, he does not leave the hope that the moment will come when the feeling of human dignity will prevail, and the humiliated masses of the people will be able to stand up for themselves.

The attitude of contemporaries to the poem

The new work of N. Nekrasov caused a wide public response. It is no coincidence that one of the censors called it "a terrible slander that cannot be read without a shudder." And the Sovremennik magazine, which was the first to publish the text, received a warning to close.

G. Plekhanov recalled his acquaintance with the poem in the final class of a military gymnasium. According to his testimony, the first desire of him and his comrades was one: to take a gun and go "to fight for the Russian people."

Railway

V a n I (in a coachman's coat).

Dad! who built this road?

Papa (in a coat with a red lining),

Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the car

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous

The air invigorates tired forces;

The ice is fragile on the icy river

As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,

You can sleep - peace and space!

The leaves have not faded yet,

Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,

Clear, quiet days...

There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi

And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight

Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...

I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,

I think my mind...

Good papa! Why in charm

Keep Vanya smart?

You let me in the moonlight

Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge

Not on the shoulder alone!

There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,

Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships

Rules; drives people to the artel,

Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders

Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.

Many are in a terrible struggle,

Calling to life these barren wilds,

The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,

Poles, rails, bridges.

And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...

How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!

Stomp and gnashing of teeth;

A shadow ran over the frosty glass...

What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,

Then the sides run.

Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night

We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,

With an eternally bent back,

Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,

Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,

The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...

We have endured everything, God's warriors,

Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!

We are destined to rot in the earth ...

Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness

Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!

From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,

From different parts of the great state -

These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,

You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,

You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,

Tall sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,

Ulcers on skinny arms

Forever knee-deep in water

The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade

From day to day leaned all century ...

You look at him, Vanya, carefully:

It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back

He is still: stupidly silent

And mechanically rusty shovel

Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work

It would not be bad for us to adopt with you ...

Bless the work of the people

And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...

The Russian people carried enough

Carried out this railroad -

Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear

He will pave the way for himself with his chest.

The only pity is to live in this beautiful time

You won't have to, neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening

He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!

"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -

Vanya said - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives

Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:

"Here they are - our road builders! .."

The general laughed!

“I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,

I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,

I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,

Well… did the people create all this?

Excuse me this impudent laugh,

Your logic is a bit wild.

Or for you Apollo Belvedere

Worse than an oven pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,

A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -

“I’m not talking for you, but for Vanya…”

But the general did not object:

“Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German

Do not create - destroy the master,

Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..

However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness

It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.

Would you show the child now

The bright side…

Happy to show!

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

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...

They scratched their heads hard:

Each contractor must remain,

Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -

Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:

“Maybe there is now a surplus here,

Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,

Fat, squat, red as copper,

A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,

He goes to see his work.

The idle people make way dignifiedly...

Sweat wipes the merchant from the face

And he says, akimbo pictorially:

“Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now go home - congratulations!

(Hats off - if I say!)

I expose a barrel of wine to workers

And - I give arrears! .. "

Someone cheered. Picked up

Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:

With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...

Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant

With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...

Seems hard to please the picture

Draw, General?

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

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

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he stands, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen earth hollowing!

This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!

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

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

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:

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

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

Happy to show!
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

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...

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

The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
“Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

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

Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General?

Vania (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
daddy (in a coat with a red lining).
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the car

I

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

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

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

II

"Good dad! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous, -
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.

He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.

Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!

We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? ..“

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to cover yourself with a glove.
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;

I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!

This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

III

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,

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

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

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

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:

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

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

IV

“Glad to show!
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

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!

Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
"Maybe there's just too much here now,
Yes, you go! .. “They waved their hands ...

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

The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
"Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
AND - I donate arrears!“

Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!

Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" I rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, general? .. "