On the day I turned thirty-six
Should the heart become deaf
And forget the old feelings,
But let no one love me
I want to love!
My leaf fall rustles with foliage.
Fewer leaves are higher.
Ailment and stone of grave
Remained to me.
My fire burns the days
But lonely it burns.
Only funeral lights
He will give birth.
Hope in a sad fate
Forgive my love forever.
I can only remember you
And carry the chain.
But here now is not up to longing.
Great work is being accomplished.
From laurels proud wreaths
Heroes are waiting.
Oh Greece! Beautiful view
Your swords, your banners!
Spartan raised to the shield,
Not submissive.
Rise up (Do not rise Greece -
This ancient land has already risen!)
Rise my spirit! And tribute again
Give the fight.
About courage! Tenet rip
Tread the crafty dreams,
Do not listen to the voices of love
And beauty.
No consolation, so well
Sad about your youth?
Perish! You will find the end
Among the swords.
The grave eagerly awaits the soldier
While they are fighting.
So take a look back farewell
And sleep in it.
The lady who asked why I leave England in the spring
Like a sinner cast out of paradise
On your coming dark path
He looked, freezing from fear,
And longed for the past to return.
Then, wandering around many countries,
To learn pain and fear,
Seeking for the past, for the coveted
Forgetting in worries and deeds -
So I, rejected by fate,
I'm running from your charm
So as not to be sad in front of you
Do not call irrevocable days
To wander from edge to edge,
To kill a snake in his chest.
I can languish near paradise
And do not strive to be in paradise!
Forget you! Forget you!
Forget you! Forget you!
Let in the fiery stream of years
Shame is haunting you
Tomit remorse is nonsense!
And me and my husband
You will be doubly remembered:
You were unfaithful to him
And you were the demon to me.
By time
Oh time! Everything rushes past
Everything rushes on your wings:
Flicker of spring, procrastinate of winter,
Chasing the grave of all living things.
You gave me time
Fate is not easy - but still
The burden is much easier than life
When you carry it alone!
I'm not afraid of a hard share
Ever since we found peace
All those whose heart is torn
Shared sorrows with me.
May peace and joy be with them!
And you beat me and beat!
What will you give me and what will you take?
Only years full of sorrows!
Painful torment softens
Your cruel power oppresses:
Some lucky ones notice
How fast is your flight!
Let transience consciousness
Hanging above us in a cloud:
It darkens the spring radiance
But the sorrow of the night will not overshadow!
No matter how dark and mournful it was
Around me - my mind and eyes
Caressed the distant sun,
Elements of darkness contrary.
But the beam went out - and Time became
Empty flickering days and years:
I only keep the role tired
Which makes no more sense!
But the final scene
And you cannot change:
Only those who will replace us
You will torture and execute!
And without fear of cruel punishment,
With a grin I foresee your anger
When you bring down blows
On the cold stone of the grave!
Love and death
I looked at you as our enemy walked by
Ready to defeat him or fall in your blood
And if the hour had struck - to share with you, darling,
All fidelity retaining freedom and love.
I looked at you in the seas when on the rocks
The ship hit the chaos of stormy waves
And I begged you to trust me;
The tomb is my chest, the hand is the salvation of the boat.
I fixed my gaze on your sick and troubled gaze
And he gave up the bed and was tired of it,
Clung to his feet, ready to surrender to the earth dead,
When would you go to death so early.
An earthquake walked and the walls shook
And everything, as if from wine, swayed in front of me.
Who was I looking for among the empty hall?
You. To whom did I save my life? To you alone.
And a convulsive sigh spirals my suffering
Already the thought went out, the language was already numb,
Giving you one last breath
Ah, more often than it should, my spirit flew to you.
Oh, a lot has passed; but you didn’t love
You won't love, no! Love is always free.
I do not blame you, but fate has judged me -
It is criminal, without hope, to love everything again and again.
Do not remember ...
Do not remember those wonderful days
That will forever be sweet to the heart, -
Those days when we loved.
They live in my soul.
And they will live as long as there is strength -
To eternal - to grave darkness.
Forget ... Anything that bound us?
As I listened to the beat of a passionate heart,
Playing with gold hair ...
I swear I remember now
Your languid gaze, your face is beautiful
And gentle lips are a dumb question.
How you clung to my chest
And your eye is a half call
Half-fright - woke up desire ...
And we got closer and closer
Mouth to mouth, forgetting the whole world,
To die in one kiss! ..
Then you bowed your brow
And the eye is azure bliss
Thick lashes hid the canopy,
She is like a crow wing
Gliding through the virgin snow
Shadow lanit threw a shadow ...
I dreamed yesterday in a dream
Our former love to me ...
And the dream was sweeter
Than in the life of a new passion ardor;
The shining eyes of others - eclipsed
Your gaze is in madness of pleasure.
Don't say don't remember
Those days that dreams give us paradise
Those days that will be sweet to the heart,
Until the light forgets us
Like a cold stone at the grave
Broadcasting that we are already gone! ..
Victory
I sing a child of love, the leader of a bloody war,
By whom did the Britons give the land to Normandy,
Who in his royal family is marked by glory
The conqueror is not a peaceful king.
He, overshadowed by the wing of his proud victory,
He ascended to a height a brilliant crown:
Bastard held his prey firmly like a lion,
And the Britons won the last time - a brave man.
Prometheus
Titanium! To our earthly destiny
To our mournful vale
To human pain
You looked without contempt;
But what was the reward?
Suffering, stress
Yes kite that endlessly
The pride’s liver is tormenting
Rock, chains sad sound,
The suffocating burden of torment
Yes groan that is buried in the heart,
You depressed, calmed down,
To your sorrows
He could not tell the gods.
Titanium! Did you know what battle means
Courage with flour ... you are strong
You are not afraid of torture
But fettered by a fierce fate.
Omnipotent Rock - Deaf Tyrant,
Universal anger is overwhelmed
Creating for the joy of heaven
That which can destroy itself,
He cut you off from death
Immortality endowed.
You accepted a bitter gift as an honor
And the Thunderer is from you
I could only achieve a threat;
So the proud god was punished!
Love of your own suffering
You didn’t want to read him
His fate - but the verdict
Your proud gaze opened to him.
And he comprehended your silence
And the arrows of lightning trembled ...
You are good - that is your heavenly sin
Ile crime: you wanted
Adversity put a limit
So that the mind makes everyone happy!
Rock ruined your dreams
But in the fact that you did not accept, -
An example for all human hearts;
In what was your freedom
Concealed by the greatness of the sample
For the human race!
You are a symbol of power, demigod,
You have illuminated the path for mortals, -
Human life is a bright current,
Runner sweeping the path
Partly a person can
Your hours to anticipate running:
A purposeless existence
Resistance, vegetation ...
But the soul will not change
Immortal hardness breathing
And the feeling that he can suddenly
In the depths of the most bitter torment
To receive a reward for yourself
Triumph and despise
And to turn Death to Victory.
Our life is dual; there is a region of Sleep,
The line between what is falsely called
Death and life; Dream has its own world
The vast world of reality is strange.
And dreams in their development breathe life
Bring tears, torment and bliss.
They burden our thoughts,
Relieve the burdens of day care
They enter our existence,
As part of our life and ourselves.
They are like eternities of heralds;
Like spirits of the past, suddenly arise
They talk about the future like sibyls.
It’s in their power to torment us and delight,
So make us as they please
Shake us with a passing vision
Shadows of the disappeared - are they so?
Or is the past not a shadow? So what are dreams?
Creation of the mind? 'Cause the mind creates
And maybe even populate the planets
Creatures brighter than all living
And give them an image of a longer-lasting flesh.
I remember a vision, I dreamed about it
In a dream, perhaps - because the thought is immeasurable,
After all, a drowsy thought holds years,
Long life thickens in an hour alone.
I saw two young and blooming
We stood nearby on a green hill
Round and sloping like a cape
The ridges are mountainous, but its foot
The sea did not wash, but before it
Beautiful landscape spread out, waves
Forests, fields and in some places at home
Amidst greenery, and from their tiled roofs
Blue smoke swirled. There was this hill
Among others crowned by a diadem
Trees in a circle - off-game
Nature, but by the will of man.
There were two of them, the girl watched
In appearance, just like her, adorable,
And the young man looked only at her.
And both were young, but younger
There was a young man; she was beautiful
And like a rising moon
Toward the heyday of femininity was approaching.
There was a youth younger, but soul
Adult of his own years, and in the whole world
One face loved by him
Beamed at that moment and he looked
With the fear that it will disappear forever.
He only breathed and lived with it,
He listened to her voice, worried
From her words; looked her eyes
Looked where she was looking
All blossoming, and he is the whole being
Merged with her; she is like an ocean
Took the stream of his raging thoughts
Completing everything, but from her words,
From her light touch
He turned pale and blushed - and suddenly his heart
Painfully and sweetly compressed.
But she did not share his feelings
And did not sigh about him, for her
He only replaced his brother - no more.
To her, who did not have a brother, become a brother
He was able by the right of friendship of a child.
The last offspring she was
From a kind of ancient. Brother's name
He accepted reluctantly - but why?
He dimly understood when the other
She suddenly fell in love, and now
She loved, and looked from the hill -
Perhaps on an obedient horse racing,
Beloved hurries to her on a date.
I saw the estate and the horse
Saddled in front of an old house.
In the old chapel, pale and alone,
The same young man strode in excitement.
Then he sat down at the table, grabbed a pen
And wrote a letter, but I could not
Read the words. He heads with his hands
Dropping, grabbed and all shook,
As from sobs, and then, jumping up,
Written tore to shreds,
But I did not see tears in his eyes.
He forced himself and took the form
Tranquility, and then reappeared
Before him is the mistress of his love.
She smiled calmly, knowing
What they love, because you can't hide love
And that his soul is overshadowed
Her shadow, and that he is unhappy.
She knew that, but not all.
He politely and coldly touched
Her hands and his face
A shadow of inexpressible thoughts slipped
Flashed and disappeared at the same moment.
He released her hand and silently
He left the room without saying goodbye to her.
They parted, smiling both.
And slowly he came out of the gate,
And he jumped on his horse, and rode away,
And he never returned to the old house.
Suddenly the dream changed.
Young man in the middle of deserts
In the fiery south he found shelter.
He absorbed in his soul the light of the bright sun,
Everything around was strange, and he himself
He became another, not the same as he was once.
He wandered around countries and seas,
And many visions like waves
Suddenly they surged on me, but he
Was part of them; and here he is, resting
From the stuffiness of the midday, lay
Amid the collapsed columns, in the shadow of the ruins,
Long survived names
Builders; camels grazed near
And the horses stood at the fountain
On a leash, and a dark-skinned conductor
Sat on guard in a magnificent robe,
While others were sleeping peacefully.
A blue tent shone above them
So clear and cloudless and clean
That only God alone was visible in the sky.
Suddenly the dream changed.
My beloved is married to another
But the husband cannot love her like him.
Far from him in a birthplace
She lived, surrounded by children.
The offspring of beauty - but what happened?
Suddenly, sadness flickered across her face,
Like a shadow of sorrow hidden
And as if from tearless tears
Drooping eyelashes trembled.
What does her sadness mean? She is loved
There is no one who loved her so much.
Hope, poorly hidden chagrin
He cannot embarrass her peace.
What does her sadness mean? I didn’t love
She is his, and he knew about it,
And he, like a ghost of the past, could not
Soar above her and overshadow her thoughts.
Suddenly the dream changed.
The wanderer returned and before the altar
He stood with the bride, kind and beautiful,
But the Starlight of his youth
A beautiful face was different.
Suddenly expressed on his forehead
Before the altar is the very confusion
What's the solitude of an old chapel
He was so excited, and now,
Like then, suddenly in his face
A shadow of inexpressible thoughts slipped
Flashed - and disappeared at the same moment.
And he calmly swore an oath,
It was appropriate, but did not hear her.
Everything started spinning, he didn’t notice
That which was accomplished, what will be accomplished,
But the old house, the old hall is familiar,
And the rooms, and the place, and that day,
And the hour, and the sun is bright, and the shadows -
Everything that once surrounded her
Her - his fate - came back
And stood between him and the altar.
How could they come at such an hour?
Suddenly the dream changed.
The mistress of his love befell
Mental illness and bright mind
He flew off somewhere, leaving her.
In her eyes flicker faded, and her gaze
Seemed unearthly, and queen
She became in her magical realm.
Her thoughts were incoherent.
A world of images invisible to others
He became familiar and ordinary to her.
It is considered insanity, but wise
Even crazier, because a terrible gift -
Shine of melancholy, sad sadness.
Isn't this the truth telescope?
He brings the fabulousness of the far
Shows Naked Life
And makes reality real.
Suddenly the dream changed.
There was a wanderer, as before, lonely,
All those around me drifted away
Ile became enemies, and he himself
Become embodied disappointment
Enmity and hatred surrounded
Now everything has become a torment for him,
And he, like the once Pontic king,
He ate poisons, and without harm
They served him instead of food.
And he lived by killing many,
He was friends with the snowy mountains
With the stars and the worldwide spirit
Conducted conversations! He tried to comprehend
Learning, delving into the magic of their secrets,
The book of night was opened to him,
And voices from the abyss revealed
Testament of wonderful secrets. Let it be so.
My dream disappeared and did not continue.
And it was strange that the fate of both
So clearly indicated in a dream
As in reality - and madness
She ended in misfortune - both.
You are happy
You are happy - and I should be happy
At this thought, feel in the heart;
To the fate of your fervent fate
Nothing in me can destroy.
He is also happy, chosen by you -
And how enviable he is to me!
When he did not love you - enmity
To him I would be seething immensely!
Suffered from jealousy and torment
I, having seen your child;
But he stretched out to me with a smile of his hand -
And I passionately began to kiss him.
I kissed, restraining an involuntary sigh
The fact that he was like a father,
But he has your eyes - and I’m pretty
Oh, that I loved him.
Goodbye! While you're happy, not a word
I do not send fate to reproach.
But live where you are ... No, Mary, no! Il again
My rebellious passion will wake up.
Fool! I thought of young hobbies
Pride and years will destroy the ardor.
And well: now there is no hope and no shadow -
And the heart beats as it did then.
We met. You know without worry
I could not meet the eyes of my dear:
But at that moment neither a word nor a movement
They did not give out my hidden torment.
You looked intently into my face;
But it seemed stone.
Perhaps you only managed to read it.
The calm of despair is one.
Remember away! Soon scatter
Paradise of bright dreams, the dreams of my youth!
Where are summers? May they perish in her!
Oh heart, shut up or break!
I want to be a free child
I want to be a free child
And live in my native mountains again
Wandering through the forests split
Swing on the sea waves.
Do not get hold of my free soul
With Saxon lush bustle!
Sweeter to me over the swell of water
The cliff into which the surf hits!
Fate take back the bounties
And the title that for centuries sounds!
Living between slaves - I have no desire
Shake their hands - I am ashamed!
Give me back my wild land
Where did I know the dreams of my early years
Where the ocean roars cliffs
Send your fearless answer!
ABOUT! I'm not old! But the world is undeniably
Was not made for me!
Why are hidden by the shadow of black
The signs of a fatal day?
I used to have a beautiful dream
A vision of marvelous beauty ...
Actuality! you are domineering
Dispersed my dreams.
Who was my friend - in a distant land,
Whom he loved, there are none with me.
Sad in a lonely heart
When the swarm disappears!
Sometimes over bowls of fun
I’ll forget for a short time ...
But what an instant hangover delirium!
I am alone with my heart, with my heart!
How silly to listen to reasoning -
Oh no friends and no enemies! -
Those who are on a whim of birth
He became a companion of peers.
Give me back the cherished friends
Sharing the thrill of young thoughts,
And give up the doomsday orgy
I shine empty and idle noise.
What about women? I thought you
Hope, comfort, all!
What a dead stone I became
When your face is dumb for the heart!
Gifts of fate, her addictions,
This whole holiday without end
I would give a drop of happiness
What pure hearts know!
I'm exhausted from the pangs of fun
I hate the human race,
And my chest craves gorges
Where the gloom hangs over the soul!
When could I spread my wings
Like a dove to the joys of a nest
Rush off into the sky without effort
Away, away from life - forever!
It is complex, two-part. The first part is global pessimism, bitter hopelessness, "world sorrow", disappointment in everything. The world is extremely imperfect, it never embodies our dreams and ideals, neither true love, nor friendship, nor happiness is possible in it. Of course, the ideal society that the enlighteners dreamed of is impossible. The imperfection of the world and society is eternal. Man is doomed to suffering, loneliness and death.
At the same time, Byron was not an atheist, he believed in God, who created the world, but he believed that God is an evil creature that created man for his own amusement and watches with interest his torment from heaven.
The second part of Byron's worldview is strangely opposite to the first, but logically follows from it - this is tragic heroism. In these terrible, difficult conditions, one thing remains for a man: in spite of everything, not to humble himself, to preserve his inner nobility, to be able to despise this terrible world, to confront it one way or another - even if there is no chance of victory. There is something more important than real victory - this is internal victory, steadfastness in upholding ideals and values, self-esteem. It is better to die, but not surrender, not betray yourself. The ideal of man for Byron is a hero opposing something stronger, invincible, irresistible. For example, Prometheus from the 1816 poem Prometheus, at the end of which Byron gives a definition of human life:
And, overthrown from the heights, / You managed so courageously,
So proudly carry your lot, / Confronting Fate,
Neither on Earth, nor even in Heaven, / No one is broken in the fight.
And you set an example to mortals. / You are a symbol of their fate and strength.
Human life - rebellion, / Bede and evil confrontation,
When he is strong in one, / He will give battle to all black forces.
Fearless feelings, willpower / And in the abyss, torment is stronger than all.
He is happy with this in a bitter share.
Why is his rebellion not a triumph? / Why is not victory - his death?
And one more significant point. The unusual and unconventional worldview of Byron was that he admired powerful people who, in their confrontation with fate and an unfair human society, are capable of violating moral standards, crime and evil. Strength of mind, pride, self-esteem, love of freedom were more valuable qualities to Byron than kindness and humanity. Thus, Byron very seriously departed from traditional Christian morality, and, nevertheless, remained in world culture as a great poet.
Creation.
Lyrics - the best, perfect, ageless part of Byron's work. All of it is imbued with nobility, that is, the ability to concede, protect, take the suffering and guilt upon oneself, is a manifestation of high altruism, based on respect for the other, as well as on self-respect.
In Byron's lyrics, there are several main, most significant topics.
1 topic - love. Frustrated Byron basically described a tragic, unhappy, lost love. However, he had verses about happy love. For example, "Imitation of Catullus" (1806) - translated by A. Blok - showing all of Byron's passion.
Oh, only to kiss the fire of these eyes / I wouldn’t be tired of wanting a thousand times.
Always immersing my lips in their light - / A hundred years would have passed in one kiss.
But does the soul tire, loving. / Everything would cling to you, kiss you
Nothing could tear lips from lips: / We all would kiss again and again;
And let there be no number for kisses, / Like grains in the field where the harvest sang.
And the thought of separation is not worth the trouble: / Can I change? Never never.
This is precisely the initial and unique in its youthful absoluteness happiness that Byron subsequently lost and which he longs for in other verses.
The first love cycle is dedicated to Mary Chavort, the largest number of poems is dedicated to her, we will mention only the best. The poem "You are happy" (1808) is similar to Pushkin's poem "I loved you" with my inner nobility. He meets his ex-beloved a few years after separation, she, already married, was with a child. In his soul, old love suddenly flares up with renewed vigor, and with it jealousy and bitterness from the unrealizability of possible happiness. But by an effort of will he hid all these painful feelings, suppressed them so as not to disturb the happiness, peace of mind of his beloved.
"Stanza to a certain lady, written when leaving England" (1809). Love, which brought suffering, disappointment and loneliness, despite everything lives in the heart, a hopeless love for a woman who rejected the lyrical hero.
I am alone in the midst of storms and thunderstorms, / As an albatross without a girlfriend,
I look around - there is no hope / I smile and hello.
In the crowd, I will drown noisy - / And all alone, I love one.
Cutting through the foamy waves, I’ll find a house in a foreign land,
But, remembering the dear, deceitful face, / I will not calm down for a moment
And I won’t deceive myself, / While I love only one.
Any outcast poor / Find a friendly hearth,
Where friendship and love are warm / He could warm ...
To whom will I lend a hand, / Loving to death only one?
A detailed account of past losses - / What were we, what are we now,
I would break weak hearts, / Mine is steadfast to the end.
It knocks, as in old times, / And forever loves only one.
Pay attention to how noble and restrained Byron expresses mental anguish.
Next is a cycle dedicated to a certain Tyrse, an unknown sweetheart of Byron, who died early (most likely he met her during a trip). In these verses both strong love and terrible grief after the death of a beloved are expressed simultaneously. The best poem is “No, I do not want any bitter words” (1811).
A wonderful cycle of three poems is addressed to Sister Augusta, it was written in 1816 after being expelled from England. They expressed tender gratitude to the sister for not betraying him alone, not rejecting him, while everyone rejected him and drove him like a beast. Two poems with the same name, “Stanzas for Augustus” and one “Epistle to Augustus”.
In addition, it is necessary to mention a beautiful poem dedicated to the unknown to whom - “You are crying” (1815).
2 theme of Byron's lyrics - disappointment in life, a direct expression of mental suffering, a statement of an unjust, inhuman, meaningless world order.
The greatest suffering is expressed in the poem "My soul is gloomy" (1815) in the famous translation of Lermontov. In it, Byron used the plot of the Old Testament to express his feelings. King Saul asks the singer to sing a sad song in order to throw out his grief through it.
Let your wild song be. Like my crown
Sounds are fun for me!
I tell you: I want tears, singer,
Ile will burst the chest from flour.
The Sun of the Sleepless (1815). This masterpiece is printed in various translations with the names “The Sun of Sleepless”, “The Sun of the Awake”, the classic, the best is the translation of A.K. Tolstoy.
Sleepless sun, sad star
How tear your beam always flickers
Like the darkness is even darker with him
How he looks like the joy of the past!
So the past shines on us in a life night
But powerless rays do not warm us.
The star of the past is so visible to me in grief
Visible - but far away, bright - but cold.
The dim light of a distant star is a symbol of sadness over an irreversibly departed happy past.
In some verses, Byron presents death as a positive, welcome end to a meaningless life. "Euthanasia" (good death) and "By Time" (both -1812).
Byron provides several ways to temporarily forget suffering. The first is to drown sorrow in wine - “Fill the glasses” (1809). The second is an escape from a hated human society into nature. Moreover, from childhood, the poet was drawn not to peaceful English landscapes, but to something more grandiose unusual, to the mountains and the sea. This is one of Byron’s best poems “I want to be a free child” (1807) translated by Bryusov or Levik’s translation “When I Can in the Desert Seas” (both translations are equivalent).
Give me, Fate, in the thick oak forests / Forget the slaves, forget the nobles,
Lackeyev and the flatterers of the crafty, / Civilized lie.
Gimme over the formidable ocean / Wander among the gloomy cliffs
Where I’m not yet familiar with deception, / I loved, believed and dreamed.
I lived a little, but my heart is clear / That the world is alien to me, as the world I am.
I’m looking, I’m looking into the darkness - in vain: / He is hidden, the threshold of nothingness!
Sometimes the pain of the soul is deaf / Humble wine for a short time,
And my laugh is cheerful, I feast, / But in my heart, in my heart alone.
The third important topic for Byron is heroic, chanting heroes. The best verses - “You ended the life of a hero, / now your glory will begin” (1815), “Prometheus” (1816), “On the day I turned 36 years old” (1824). Here it is necessary to mention the poems dedicated to Napoleon, to which Byron was ambiguous, but mainly admired him as a strong personality, towering above a crowd of insignificants, despising generally accepted morality and therefore doomed to tragic loneliness. The best poem from the Napoleonic cycle - "Star of the Legion of Honor" (1815) - is the name of the highest order so far in France established by Napoleon. But best of all is said about him in the poem “Pilgrimage of Childe-Harold” (song 3, stanzas 39, 40, 42, 45).
One of Byron’s best and most famous works is the poem “ Pilgrimage of Childe Harold". The first two songs were written in 1809-11. The third and fourth - 1816-18. Childe-Harold became the most vivid embodiment of a disappointed hero, an extra person (as he was called in Russia) in European literature. He became a symbol of disappointment, a direct predecessor of Onegin and Pechorin. It is very similar to Byron himself, their biographical data largely coincide.
It is very interesting and unusual that Childe-Harold, the main character close to the author, from the very beginning for 4 stanzas has been characterized exclusively negatively - as an idler and a lascivious person who “is devoted to low-lying temptations with his soul”. Then begins the justification of the hero, it turns out that he is a suffering lecher. “But in Childe’s heart took a dull pain”, “he loved one - he seduced many with love, / He loved and didn’t call her his” (of course, the story of Mary Chavort is recalled here). To dispel the longing, Childe-Harold goes on a trip to the same eastern countries that Byron himself visited. The whole poem is just a description of the travel impressions of the hero without any plot. The poem is very unusual in that the image of the author is much more important in it than the image of the main character, the author’s digressions take up much more space than the story of the hero. And travel impressions belong to Byron rather than Childe-Harold. Towards the end, Byron practically forgets about the existence of his hero.
The poem is like a gigantic (150-page) lyric poem, the main thing in it is the revelation of Byron’s rich inner world, his passionate passionate soul, his bright, strong, deep feelings, as well as his original views on human life, nature, history , to contemporary historical events.
But reading a poem without a detailed historical commentary is very difficult, Byron in it constantly refers to events that are completely unfamiliar or unfamiliar to the Russian reader. Unfortunately, our editions of the poem are very stingy with comments.
Canto 1. Travel to Portugal, Spain. The main thing is a passionate, sympathetic description of the heroic struggle for freedom waged by the Spanish people with the French invaders in 1809.
Do you see the corpses of women and children / And smoke over cities and fields?
There is no dagger - with a club, a crowbar, / It's time to end the uninvited guests!
In a landfill place them in the garbage pit! / Dogs throw a corpse - and then great honor!
Fill the fields with their stinking bones
And leave the smoldering, let the grandson read on them,
How people defended their dignity.
Canto 2. A visit to Albania, admiration for the courage of the Albanian highlanders, a trip to Greece: admiration for its ancient culture and outrage at the slavish submission of modern Greeks conquered by the Turks.
Canto 3. Visit to the Battle of Waterloo in Belgium, where Napoleon was defeated for the last time. The most important thing is the admiration for the beautiful nature of Switzerland, its mountains and lakes. This is the best song, the most passionate, emotional, filled with deep philosophical thoughts. The description of the night in the mountains is especially beautiful, at first it’s quiet, then a thunderstorm begins (stanzas 89-103), the author feels like a piece of nature.
What a night! Great, holy, / Divine night! You are not for sleep!
I drink the bliss of a thunderous paradise, / I am a storm of drunk, of which you are full.
Canto 4. Description of Italy, its ancient culture, admiration for Italian art. The same good, philosophical song, the declaration of love for the sea at the very end (stanzas 179-184) is especially famous.
The meaning of the poem. Pilgrimage is a journey to the holy places for purification, strengthening the soul, gaining the highest positive values. The disappointed hero and author search for these values \u200b\u200band find them, although they still fail to overcome their disappointment. The poem reveals that the main value is freedom in all senses: both political and personal. The second value is the beauty of nature, as well as the beauty created by man - art. The meaning of the poem is in the preaching of these values.
Canto 4. Stanza 127.
So let us think boldly! Defend / Last fort in the midst of a general fall.
Let at least you remain mine, / Holy right of thought and judgment,
You, God's gift! Though from our birth / The executioners hold you in fetters,
So that you could not soar from imprisonment / You are to the sun of truth - but the rays will flash,
And the blind man languishing in the night will understand everything.
Oriental poems.
There were six of them. They were written from 1813 to 1816. It was on them that the enormous lifetime glory of Byron was based. These are the most important works in his work. Features: 1) all the poems are characterized by the exotic scene, in most of them they are eastern countries, namely Turkey or Greece. 2) intense vivid love story: betrayal, jealousy, revenge, murder, suicide, etc. 3) passion, emotional storytelling. 4) an atmosphere of mystery, mystery, understatement.
5) A special unusual type of hero is byronic. Heroes of oriental poems are very controversial. On the one hand, they are absolute egoists, proud, despising all people. There is not a drop of humanity, kindness in them, they easily shed blood, they are almost all criminals, villains, murderers. And the author not only does not hide all these negative qualities, but insistently insists on them. But on the other hand, they are so described that we clearly feel the author's sympathy - they are attractive with extraordinary courage, passion, nobility, depth of mental suffering, the causes of which are often unknown. They shed blood, but always (or almost always) in an open fair fight, they do not kill the weak, unarmed. But the main thing is their extraordinary fortitude, they need such passions, such experiences that ordinary people can’t stand. They live in danger, risk, so that they are breathtaking.
These heroes at the same time repel and attract, but in general they are more attracted. So Byron for the first time so brightly poetized evil, showed that evil can be attractive. After him, the charm of evil was investigated by Lermontov (the image of Pechorin), and Dostoevsky (the image of Stavrogin from the novel "Demons") and, finally, Bulgakov in "The Master and Margarita" (the image of Woland).
So, the most significant oriental poems worth reading.
"Gyaur", which means Turkish is unfaithful, not Muslim, an enemy. This is the name of the main character - a young European. It is very unusual that for most of the poem the author deliberately characterizes the main character from the negative side: from the point of view of enemies full of hatred and fear for Gyaur.
First, the narrator is a simple Turkish fisherman who accidentally witnessed the main plot events. At the end of the passage, he pronounces the most terrible curses of Gyauru. Not only is he going to hell, he must leave the grave after death and, like a vampire, should drink "the living blood of his own children."
And indeed, according to the plot, he destroyed the family, caused the death of a young woman, killed her husband. Turkish Pasha Gassan brought him into his house, and he fell in love with the owner’s young wife Leila, and she reciprocated. Having learned about the impending betrayal, Gassan, according to Turkish custom, ordered the unfaithful wife to be drowned. Gyaur avenged, killed Gassan in battle.
If the devil put on flesh, / He appeared in this guise.
I swear salvation - only hell / Could give rise to a similar look!
And only at the end the word is given to Gyaur himself: but even here we will not hear a refutation of the accusations against us, remorse. The hero simply explains his character as a warrior and a passionate, suffering person who loved and lost love.
Let my love be stigmatized
Sin, shame, crime, / Karay and you despise her.
Old man, you look at me, / As if I are a predatory kite, -
You do not hide disgust. / Yes, the path of bloody crime
And I went like an evil kite, / But I did not know the love of another.
I am firm in my heart. My desire is / or death, or happiness of possession.
Yes, I will die, but I loved, / I felt the joy of life.
Before his death, he proudly refuses confession and repentance.
“Corsair” is also a good poem, but only in the translation of Yu. Petrov, and not Shengeli. The main character Conrad is a fearless and merciless leader of a gang of pirates (a corsair is a pirate). It is also a very bright plot, the author also does not spare black colors for Conrad. But this poem is more analytical, it has an attempt to analyze the character of the hero, to look deeper into his soul, to understand its contradictions.
“Lara” is the most interesting of the eastern poems. Lara is a hero openly immoral, the least humane among all the heroes of oriental poems, because in the poem he loves no one. Gyaura and Corsair humanize deep love. Lara loves only herself.
But despite this, Lara remains an unusually attractive hero, in his life there is some terrible secret, which is not revealed to the end. He dreams of one thing - to become above all. One feels that for him there are no limits, no laws that he will not overcome.
He did not know petty selfishness.
One thought forever inspired - / Do not know the equal! This temptation
Captured, he wouldn’t disdain if he / Enter the path leading to crime.
Do not know the equal! People on Earth / Hardly such courage
To see how he is mired in evil,
To see how it flourished in good.
The usual worries subsided / In his soul, and the spirit in such a height
He took off, that the blood flowed in a different way, / Only disgust complete to earthly.
Incredible pride elevates the hero to a height inaccessible to ordinary mortals, where blood even flows in a different way. In his pride, he even tries to compete with God.
Rebellious soaring over everything / Ready to laugh at the elements,
He thought: is there in Heaven the One before whom
Should he bow or who should he be equal to?
Lara - in the spirit of a true godless man. Like Giaur and Konrad, before his death, he proudly refuses the Christian rites of repentance, from reconciliation with God.
Lara is a prince, but becomes the head of a peasant uprising against the nobility, apparently with the aim of seizing higher power. The rebels are defeated, and Lara in the last battle bravely dies. And then it turns out that his faithful, absolutely faithful young beautiful, always silent page is a disguised girl in love with Lara. She is dying of longing at his grave. Such a romantic story.
“Parisine” is also one of Byron’s most beautiful poems, but the hero in it is different, more ordinary, though he also commits a crime - he contacts his father’s young wife and is executed for that. But it turns out that the father is to blame for everything, he once recaptured the bride from his son and forcibly married her.
Oriental poems very seriously influenced world literature, including Russian, caused a lot of imitations. Under their direct influence, Pushkin wrote his southern poems (the most of them the Byronic “Bakhchisarai Fountain”), Lermontov - Caucasian poems (“Mtsyri” is very similar to “Gyaura”).
Further, the poem not included in the number of oriental ones is The Prisoner of Chillon (1816), beautifully translated by V. A. Zhukovsky, also refers to the best creations of Byron. It very brightly, deeply conveyed the suffering, despair, horror of a man who languishes for many years in a damp dungeon of a medieval castle, before which his two brothers died. 9 stanza of the poem - a vivid description of the painful delirium of the hero, who is on the verge of madness.
But then what happened to me, / I don’t remember ... the light seemed darkness,
Darkness by light; the air disappeared; / Stood in a daze
Without memory, without being, / Between the stones with the cold stone I;
And it was seen as in a heavy dream, / Everything was pale, dark, dull to me;
Everything merged into a muddy shadow; / That was neither night nor day:
That was darkness without darkness; / That was - the abyss of emptiness
Without extension and borders; / Those were images without faces;
That some kind of terrible world was, / Without sky, light and lights,
Without time, without days and years, / Without fishing, without benefits and troubles,
Neither life nor death is like a dream of tombs, / Like an ocean without coasts,
Crushed by a heavy haze, / Immovable, dark and dumb.
The worst and paradoxical thing is that, in the end, he was so used to the prison that after release he regretted it.
Along with romantic poems Byron was created love and heroic lyricsto which the cycle "Jewish melodies" belongs. The poet knew and loved the Bible well from childhood and in “Jewish melodies”, referring to biblical motifs in the poems “On the sacred harp ...”, “Saul”, “Daughter of Jephthah”, “Vision of Belshazzar” preserving the imagery and plot basis of the episodes, taken from this monument of ancient literature, conveyed their epic and lyricism. The whole cycle combines a common mood, for the most part sadness and melancholy. Jewish melodies were written for composer Isaac Nathan, who, together with composer Bregem, put them to music.
Just during this period, after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo and the subsequent political events in England and France, Byron wrote a number of works on Napoleon - Napoleon’s Farewell, From the French, Ode from the French, Star of the Legion of Honor . The author made instructions to the French source in order to divert from the newspapers where these works were published their accusations of disloyalty to the government. In the cycle about Napoleon, Byron took a clear anti-chauvinistic position, believing that England, waging war with France and Napoleon, brought a lot of disaster to its people.
Byron's love poetry of 1813 - 1817 is distinguished by its unusual wealth and diversity: nobleness, tenderness, deep humanity make its distinctive features. This is the lyrics, devoid of any mysticism, false fantasy, asceticism, religiosity.
In the collection "Jewish Melodies" Byron creates his ideal of love. Speaking about the humanism of Byron's lyric poems, one must first of all bear in mind the spirit of freedom and struggle with which they are performed.
In such pearls of his poetry as “Imitation of Catullus”, “Athenian Woman”, “I Will Decide”, “Separation”, “Stans to Augustus” and others, - he expressed the liberation ideals of the new time. The deep sincerity, purity and freshness of feelings, the thirst for freedom, the high and genuine humanity of lyric poems awakened the consciousness of society, set it against the customs and customs planted by the church during the reaction period.
The biblical subjects developed by the author of the cycle serve as a conditional form, a tribute to the national revolutionary traditions, coming from Milton, Blake, etc. Interestingly, a new solution to the theme of individual heroism in this cycle is outlined. The poem “You have ended the way of life” tells of a hero who consciously sacrificed his life for the good of the fatherland. The poet emphasizes that the name of the hero is immortal in the minds of the people.
Byron's novelty of love subjects consisted in the following features:
Strongly expressed subjective beginning;
Tragedy;
Maximalism (feelings, desires, plot canvas);
The combination of love with death, separation - that is, the destructive principle;
The combination of classical and romantic traditions in the style and system of imagery;
The transfer of the most complex and strongest emotional experiences;
The creation of captivating female images;
Expression of expressive means;
The connection of love lyrics with philosophical and civic themes, as well as with biblical motifs.
George Gordon Byron
Byron's Love Lyrics
Roots and origins
Byron has always been a very subtle, sensitive person, not without reason Byron's love lyrics are considered one of the most striking and soulful in all of English literature.
The poet’s first love was Mary Duff - "a little girl with dark brown hair and gazelle eyes, whose charming face, voice, figure and manners made him stay awake at night, although he was only nine years old." Then he still did not realize that it was love, but the memories of this feeling penetrated his poetry and Byron's love lyrics constantly turned to these children's feelings and images. Upon learning that his “first love” had married, the poet felt a deep mental blow and indulged in melancholy. Margarita Marker - cousin of Byron, the second love of his childhood. “A girl with dark eyes, long eyelashes, a Greek profile and radiant beauty,” who died two years after the poet fell in love with her. Margarita, according to Byron, gave impetus to his poetry.
"The first jump into literature" he made in 1800 under the influence of feelings for his cousin. Expressing his confession in verse, Byron later paid tribute to Margarita's elegy. It was from the tender, subtle and endless feelings for Margarita that the magnificent love lyrics of Byron began.
Byron's love lyrics. Features of the poetic word.
Byron's poetic word sounds very balanced and thoughtful, because his task is to recreate the human feeling, to clarify it, to open it in all its diversity and depth. Feeling that he should write sincerely, and therefore, as accurately as possible, Byron tries to reproduce the smallest details, emphasizing the degree of his frankness and strength of feelings. Byron’s love lyrics are based on the primacy of emotion, not the primacy of words used to convey it. The poet is convinced that words do not gain strength by themselves, by their verbal nature, but only when they are filled with strong emotions, evoked from the dark spheres of the subconscious to life and light. Byron's love lyrics make a special emphasis on the fact that the feelings that an individual experiences (in particular, we are talking about love and the emotions accompanying it) are equated with the contents of the personality itself. That is, as the romantics claimed, "my feelings are what I am."
Byron's Love Lyrics and Civic Lyrics: Common Grounds
Byron's intimate world is inseparable from large ideological themes. So, Byron's love lyrics and civic lyrics are correlated as a goal with a means, as a client with his defender. The poet understands the civil life and civil struggle as upholding his own freedom, the freedom of the human person with everything that is hidden in it. The poet combined his own lyric poetry with his exploits of the war of liberation.
Byron's love lyrics enriched English and world literature, bringing them extraordinary power and strength, closely intertwined with the tenderness and trembling of the greatest Sense - Love, and Byron's poetic traditions were continued and developed by the lyrics of subsequent generations.
Cherished name say, draw
I want - and I dare not whisper rumor.
A tear burns Lanita - and gives out one,
That in the heart of a dumb hiding depth.
So soon for passion, for the world of hearts
Remorse is an end to late
Bliss - or torture? .. Do not we curse them:
We break their shackles - their power brings us together.
Drink honey; crime leave me wormwood!
My idol, forgive me! If you want, leave!
But the heart of love will not humiliate forever:
I am your slave, - a man will not break me.
And I will remain firm in the bitter grunt:
He is humble before you and proud with the arrogant.
Oblivion with you - il at the feet of all the worlds? ..
For a moment with you everything has gathered gifts!
And your single breath gives and dies
And your single breath gives and lives.
Soulless I will judge for the soul:
Not your lips will answer them - mine!
Poems written in the breakup
Oh maid! Know i will save
Farewell kiss
And I will not defile my lips
See you again.
Your radiant tender look
Don't be shadowed
And the tears of the cheeks don't water
From bitter doubt.
No, do not assure assurances, -
I do not want separation
Resurrect in vain in the chest
Saving sounds.
And no need to drive with a pen
Mara leaf is timid.
What can be expressed in verse
If the heart is numb?
But this heart again and again
Your image calls
Cherishes a secret love
And suffers for you.
She walks in all its glory (She walks in beauty)
She walks in all its glory
Light as the night of her country.
All the depths of heaven and the stars are all
In her eyes are enclosed
Like the sun in the morning dew
But only the gloom softened.
To add a ray or a shadow to take away -
And it will be completely wrong
Hair agate strand,
Wrong eyes, wrong lips
And forehead, where thoughts print
So impeccable, so pure.
And this look, and color bites
And a slight laugh, like a splash of the sea, -
Everything in it speaks of the world.
She keeps peace in her soul
And if happiness gives,
That very generous hand!
(Translation by S. Marshak)
Stans to Augustus
When my time has passed
And my star rolled
Only you didn’t look for flaws
And my judge is not a judge.
Troubles do not scare you,
And the love that features
So many times have I trusted paper
Only you remain in my life.
That's why when I was on the road
Nature sends his smile
I don’t feel forgery in hi
And in a smile I recognize you.
When the whirlwinds with the abyss are fighting,
Like souls in exile of sorrow
That’s why the waves excite me,
That carry me away from you.
And though the stronghold collapsed happiness
And the wreckage of hope at the bottom
All the same: in melancholy and despondent
Do not be their slave to me.
No matter how many troubles are found everywhere,
I’m confused - I’ll find myself in an instant,
I am exhausted - but I will not forget myself,
Because I'm yours, not theirs.
You are from mortals and you are not crafty
You are from women, but they are not a couple.
You don't think love is fun
And you are not afraid of slander.
You do not step a single word
You're away - separation as it is,
You're on guard, but friendship is good
You are careless, but harm the light.
I put him low e
But in the struggle of one against all
Bail him
As stupid as believing in success.
Knowing the price too late
I was cured of blindness:
Not even the loss of the universe
If you’re rewarding in grief, you are.
The death of the past, destroying everything,
Something brought triumph:
That which was most dear to me,
Deservedly the most expensive.
There's a spring in the desert to get drunk
There is a tree on a bald hump,
Alone Warbler
All day sings to me about you.
Do not wander around at night
Do not wander around at night
Though the soul of love is full
And still beams
Silver expanses the moon
The sword will erase the sheath of iron
And the soul exudes breasts
Eternal flame is impossible
The heart needs to rest
May the beams of love
A month stretches to the ground
Do not wander around at night
In the silvery moonlight
To Elena's bust sculpted by Canova
George (Lord) Byron (translated by Abram Argo)
Light in its marvelous marble
She is above the sinful powers of the earth -
That nature could not do
What Beauty could with Canova!
It’s not destined to comprehend the mind,
The art of the bard in front of her is dead!
Immortality is given to her as a dowry -
She is Elena of your heart!
Penelope
George (Lord) Byron (translated by Sergey Ilyin)
Have a bad day, honestly
Among others not to find:
Six years ago we became together
And they began separately - exactly five!
Do not wander for us the whole evening ...
Do not wander us the whole evening
Under the moon alone
Though love is not scanty
And in the fields it’s as light as day.
Survive the scabbard blade
Living soul - chest.
The most love comes time
Take a break from happiness.
May for joy and pain
The night is given to you and me
Do not roam us anymore in the field
At midnight with the moon!
On my wedding day
George (Lord) Byron (translated by Samuel Marshak)
New Year ... Everyone wishes today
Repetitions of a happy day.
Let the New Year's Day repeat
But not a wedding day for me!
Sleepless sun, sad star ...
George (Lord) Byron (translation by Alexey Tolstoy)
Sleepless sun, sad star
How tearful your beam always flickers
Like the darkness with him is even darker
How he looks like the joy of the past!
So the past shines on us in a life night
But powerless rays do not warm us,
The star of the past is so visible to me in grief
Visible, but far away - bright, but cold!
Forget you!
George (Lord) Byron (translated by Vyacheslav Ivanov)
Forget you! Forget you!
Let in the fiery stream of years
Shame is haunting you
Tomit remorse is nonsense!
To both me and my husband
You will be doubly remembered:
You were unfaithful to him
And you were the demon to me.
Romanticism as dominant, the direction is gradually affirmed in English art in the 1790-1800s. It was a terrible time. The revolutionary events in France shocked the whole world, and in England itself a different, silent, but no less significant revolution took place - the so-called industrial revolution, which caused, on the one hand, the enormous growth of industrial cities, and on the other, generated glaring social disasters: mass pauperism , hunger, prostitution, rising crime, impoverishment and the final ruin of the village.
The image of Byron becomes the image of an era in the history of European identity. She will be named after the poet - the era of Byronism. In his personality they saw the embodied spirit of the time, believed that Byron “put the song of a whole generation on music” (Vyazemsky). Byronism was defined as “world sorrow”, which was an echo of the unfulfilled hopes that the French Revolution awakened. As a reflection caused by the spectacle of the triumph of reaction in post-Napoleonic Europe. As rebellion, capable of expressing itself only with contempt for universal submission and prudish well-being. As a cult of individualism, or rather, as the apotheosis of unlimited freedom, which is accompanied by endless loneliness.
The great Russian writer F.M. Dostoevsky wrote: “Byronism was at once instant, but a great, holy and extraordinary phenomenon in the life of European mankind, but almost in the life and of all mankind. Byronism appeared in a moment of terrible anguish of people, their disappointment and almost despair. After the frenzied enthusiasm of the new faith in new ideals, proclaimed at the end of the last century in France ... there came an outcome so different from what was expected, so deceived by the faith of people that it might never have been so sad in the history of Western Europe minutes ... Old idols lay broken. And at that very moment the great and mighty genius, a passionate poet, appeared. The then melancholy of humanity and his gloomy disappointment in his appointment and in the ideals that deceived him sounded in his sounds. It was a new and unheard of then muse of revenge and sadness, curse and despair. The spirit of Byronism suddenly swept through the whole of humanity, it all responded to him. "
Being the recognized leader of European romanticism in one of its most militant rebellious versions, Byron was associated with the traditions of the Enlightenment through the bonds of complex and contradictory relations. Like other advanced people of his era, he felt with great acuteness the discrepancy between the utopian beliefs of the enlighteners and reality. The son of a selfish age, he was far from the benign optimism of eighteenth-century thinkers with their doctrine of the good nature of "natural man."
But even if Byron was tormented by doubts about many truths of the Enlightenment and the possibility of their practical implementation, the poet never questioned their moral and ethical value. From the feeling of the greatness of enlightening and revolutionary ideals and from bitter doubts about the possibility of their realization, the whole complex set of “Byronism” arose with its deep contradictions, with its fluctuations between light and shadow; with heroic impulses to the "impossible" and a tragic consciousness of the immutability of the laws of history.
The general ideological and aesthetic foundations of the poet's work did not immediately take shape. The first of his poetic performances was a collection of youthful poems "Leisure time" (1807), which still had a mimetic and immature character. The striking originality of Byron's creative personality, as well as the unique originality of his artistic style, were fully revealed at the next stage of the poet's literary activity, the beginning of which was marked by the appearance of the first two songs of his monumental poem “Pilgrimage of Childe Harold” (1812).
The Childe Harold Pilgrimage, which became Byron's most famous work, brought world fame to its author, at the same time being the largest event in the history of European romanticism. It is a kind of lyrical diary in which the poet expressed his attitude to life, gave an assessment of his era, the material for him was Byron’s impressions of a trip to Europe undertaken in 1812. Taking the scattered diary entries as the basis of his work, Byron combined them into one poetic whole, giving him a certain appearance of plot unity. The unifying beginning of his story, he made the story of the wanderings of the protagonist - Childe Harold, using this motive to recreate a wide panorama of modern Europe. The appearance of the various countries contemplated by Childe Harold from the ship, is reproduced by the poet in a purely romantic "pictorial" manner, with an abundance of lyrical nuances and almost dazzling brightness of the color spectrum. With a romantic affinity for national "exoticism", "local color" Byron portrays the mores and customs of different countries.
With his inherent tyrannical pathos, the poet shows that the spirit of freedom, which recently inspired all of humanity, has not completely died out. It still continues to exist in the heroic struggle of the Spanish peasants against the foreign conquerors of their homeland or in the civic virtues of the harsh rebellious Albanians. Nevertheless, the persecuted freedom more and more goes into the field of legends, memories, legends.
In Greece, which had become the cradle of democracy, now nothing reminded of the once free ancient Hellas ("And under the Turkish whips, reconciled, Greece, trampled in the mud, stretched out"). In a world that is bound by chains, only nature remains free, lush and joyful flowering that appears to be the contrast of cruelty and anger reigning in human society (“Let a genius die, freedom die, eternal nature is beautiful and bright”).
But the poet, contemplating the woeful spectacle of the defeat of freedom, does not lose faith in the possibility of its revival. His whole spirit, all his mighty energy is aimed at awakening a dying revolutionary spirit. Throughout the poem, with unflagging force, it calls for rebellion, the fight against tyranny ("Oh Greece, rise to the fight!").
And unlike Childe Harold, only observing from the sidelines, Byron is by no means a passive contemplator of world tragedy. His restless, restless soul, as it were, an integral part of the world soul, contains all the sorrow and pain of mankind (“world sorrow”). It was this feeling of the infinity of the human spirit, its fusion with the whole world, combined with purely poetic features - the global breadth of the theme, the dazzling brightness of colors, magnificent landscape sketches, etc. - turned, according to M.S. Kurginyan, Byron's work in the highest achievement of romantic art of the beginning of the XIX century.
It is no accident that in the minds of many Byron fans and followers who enthusiastically accepted the poem, Byron remained primarily the author of Childe Harold. Among them was A. S. Pushkin, whose works repeatedly mention the name of Childe Harold, and quite often in relation to Pushkin's own heroes (Onegin - “Muscovite in the Harold cloak”).
Undoubtedly, the main source of the attractive force of Childe Harold for contemporaries was the spirit of militant freedom embodied in the poem. Both in terms of ideological content and poetic embodiment, Childe Harold is a true sign of its time. Deeply consonant with modernity was the image of the main character of the poem - an internally devastated, homeless wanderer, the tragically lonely Childe Harold. Although this disillusioned, completely disbelieving English aristocrat was not an exact likeness of Byron (as the poet’s contemporaries mistakenly thought), his appearance had already outlined (as yet “dotted”) features of a special character that became a romantic prototype of all opposition heroes of 19th century literature , and who will then be called the Byronic hero, who is most suffering from loneliness:
Alone in the world among the empty
boundless waters.
Why sigh to me about others
who will take a breath about me? -
- mournfully asks Byron's Childe Harold.
The indivisibility of this single lyrical complex is manifested with particular clarity in poems dedicated to Greece, a country whose dream of liberation has become a cross-cutting motive of Byron's poetry. An excited tone, heightened emotionality and a peculiar nostalgic shade, born of memories of the past greatness of this country, are already present in one of the earliest poems about Greece in the Song of Greek Rebels (1812):
Oh Greece, rise up!
The radiance of ancient glory
Wrestlers calls for abuse
The feat of grandeur.
In Byron's later poems, personal emphasis on the same topic increases. In the last of them, written almost on the eve of death ("The Last Lines Turning to Greece", 1824), the poet addresses the land of his dreams as a beloved woman or mother:
Love you! do not be harsh with me!
…………………………………… \
My love is an imperishable foundation!
I am yours - and I can not cope with it!
He himself best described his own perception of civic issues in one of his lyric works, “From a Diary in Kefalonia” (1823):
Alarmed by the dead dream - can I sleep?
Tyrants crush the world - will I give in?
The harvest has ripened - should I procrastinate?
On the bed there is a sharp thorn; I do not doze off;
In my ears, that day, a trumpet sings
Her heart echoes ...
Per. A. Block
The sound of this battle "trumpet", singing in unison with the poet's heart, was intelligible to his contemporaries. But the rebellious pathos of his poetry was perceived by them differently.
Consonant with the moods of the advanced people of the world (many of them could say about Byron with M. Yu. Lermontov: “We have one soul, the same torment”), the revolutionary rebellion of the English poet led him to a complete break with England. Having inherited the title of lord, but living in poverty since childhood, the poet found himself in an environment alien to him, he and this environment experienced mutual rejection and contempt for each other: he was because of the hypocrisy of his noble acquaintances, they were because of his past and because of his views.
The hostility of her ruling circles towards Byron was especially intensified due to his protests in defense of the Luddites (workers who destroyed cars in protest against inhuman working conditions). A personal drama was added to all this: his wife's parents did not accept Byron, destroying the marriage. Spurred on by all this, the British "zealots of morality" took advantage of his divorce proceedings to settle accounts with him. Byron became the target of bullying and bullying, in fact, England turned its greatest poet into an exile.
The relationship of Childe Harold with the society he despised already carried the grain of conflict, which became the basis of the European novel of the XIX century. This conflict of personality and society will receive a much greater degree of certainty in the works created after the first two songs of Childe Harold, in the cycle of the so-called "Oriental poems" (1813-1816). In this poetic cycle, consisting of six poems ("Gyaur", "Corsair", "Lara", "Abydos bride", "Parisine", "Siege of Corinth"), the final formation of the byronic hero in his complex relationship with the world and himself by myself. The place of “oriental poems” in the poet’s creative biography and at the same time in the history of romanticism is determined by the fact that here for the first time a clearly formulated new romantic concept of personality has arisen as a result of rethinking enlightenment views on a person.
Byron’s dramatic turning point in time coincided with a turning point in world history. The fall of Napoleon, the triumph of reaction, the embodiment of which was the Holy Union, opened one of the most joyless pages of European history, laying the foundation for a new stage in the poet’s creativity and life. His creative thought is now directed toward the mainstream of philosophy.
The peak of Byron’s work is considered to be his philosophical drama “Cain”, the protagonist of which is the godless; ganged up on the universal tyrant - Jehovah. In his religious drama, which he called "the mystery," the poet uses the biblical myth to debate with the Bible. But the god in Cain is not only a symbol of religion. In his grim image, the poet unites all forms of tyrannical arbitrariness. His Jehovah is both the sinister power of religion, and the despotic yoke of a reactionary anti-people state, and, finally, the general laws of life, indifferent to the sorrows and sufferings of mankind.
Following this enlightened world evil, Byron, following the enlightenment, is opposed by the idea of \u200b\u200ba bold and free human mind that does not accept cruelty and injustice prevailing in the world.
The son of Adam and Eve, expelled from paradise for their desire to know good and evil, Cain questions their fearful statements about the mercy and justice of God. On this path of quest and doubt, Lucifer (one of the names of the devil) becomes his patron, whose majestic and mournful image embodies the idea of \u200b\u200ban angry rebellious mind. Its beautiful “night-like” appearance is marked by the seal of tragic duality. The dialectic of good and evil, which was opened to the romantics, as internally interconnected principles of life and history, determined the contradictory structure of the image of Lucifer. The evil that he does is not his original purpose (“I wanted to be your creator,” he says to Cain, “and I would have created you different”). Byronovsky Lucifer (whose name means "lightbearer" in translation) is someone who seeks to become a creator, but becomes a destroyer. Introducing Cain to the secrets of being, he flies with him to the superstellar spheres, and the gloomy picture of the cold lifeless universe (recreated by Byron on the basis of acquaintance with the astronomical theories of Cuvier) finally convinces the hero of the drama that the supreme principle of the universe is the dominance of death and evil ( “Evil is the leaven of all life and lifelessness,” Cain teaches Lucifer).
The truth of the lesson taught him Cain comprehends from his own experience. Returning to earth as the already completed and convinced enemy of God, who gives life to his creatures only in order to put them to death, Cain, in a fit of blind unreasoning hatred, unleashes a blow intended for the invincible and inaccessible Jehovah on his meek and humble brother Abel.
This fratricidal act, as it were, marks the last stage in the process of Cain's knowledge of life. On himself, he learns the insuperability and omnipresence of evil. His impulse for good gives rise to crime. The protest against the destroyer of Jehovah turns into murder and suffering. Hating death, Cain first brings it into the world. This paradox, prompted by the experience of the recent revolution and summarizing its results, gives at the same time the most striking embodiment of the irreconcilable contradictions of Byron's worldview.
Created in 1821, after the defeat of the movement of the carbonarians, the mystery of Byron captured with immense poetic power the depth of the tragic despair of the poet, who recognized the impracticability of the noble hopes of mankind and the doom of his Promethean rebellion against the cruel laws of life and history. It was the feeling of their irresistibility that made the poet with particular energy look for the reasons for the imperfection of life in the objective laws of social life. In Byron's diaries and letters (1821-1824), as well as in his poetic works, a new understanding of history is already outlined for him, not as mysterious rock, but as the totality of real relations of human society. The intensification of the realistic tendencies of his poetry is connected with this shift in emphasis.
Thoughts about the vicissitudes of life and history, which were present earlier in his works, now become his constant companions. This tendency was especially clearly expressed in the last two songs of Childe Harold, where the desire to generalize the historical experience of mankind, and previously characteristic of the poet, takes on a much more purposeful character. Reflections on the past, clothed in the form of a variety of historical reminiscences (Ancient Rome, from which the ruins remained, Lausanne and Ferney, where the shadows of the “two titans” - Voltaire and Russo, Florence, the exile of Dante, Ferrara, who betrayed Tasso), are included in the third and the fourth song of Byron's poem, indicate the direction of his quest.
The key image of the second part of Childe Harold is the field at Waterloo. The cardinal turn in the fate of Europe, which took place on the site of the last battle of Napoleon, prompts Byron to summarize the just-gone era and evaluate the activities of its main character - Napoleon Bonaparte. The “lesson of history” tells the poet not only conclusions about its individual events and figures, but also about the entire historical process as a whole, which is perceived by the author of Childe Harold as a chain of fatal fatal disasters. And at the same time, contrary to his own concept of historical “rock,” the poet comes to the idea that “still your spirit, Freedom, is alive!”, Still calling on the peoples of the world to fight for Freedom. “Rise, rise,” he turns to Italy (under the yoke of Austria), “and having driven the bloodsuckers away, show us your proud, freedom-loving disposition!”
This rebellious spirit was inherent not only in Byron's poetry, but throughout his life. The death of the poet, who was in the detachment of the Greek rebels, interrupted his short, but so vivid life and creative path.
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