Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin was born in the village of Konstantinovo Ryazan province in a peasant family. He grew up in the religious family of the Old Believer. Poems began to write with eight years. Apparently from there, from peasant childhood, an extraordinary unification with a plain-looking, at first glance, Russian nature. Yesenin, as, indeed, many other poets, puts into his lyrics what is closest to him and the most precious.
Edge favorite! The heart is dreaming
Skirmishes of the sun in the waters of the bosom.
I would like to get lost
In the green of your money.
Love for the Motherland in Esenin’s lyrics is not expressed in an abstract way, but in concrete visual images, through pictures of his native landscape:
I’m forever misty and dewy
I fell in love with a birch tree,
And her golden braids,
And canvas sarafan.
Whatever the poet wrote, even in the hardest moments of loneliness, the image of
the Motherland warmed his soul. Yesenin felt a deep sense for Russia, it was so strong that it can be called almost fanatical:
I will chant
The whole being in the poet
The sixth part of the earth
With the name brief “Rus.”
Yesenin loved this land, he was born on this earth, and for him he lived. He saw her in a joyful spring decoration, with a bottomless blue sky, cheerful groves, with whimsically winding rivers. And the poet did not regret paints, in order to convey the beauty of Russian nature brighter. All his lyrics are permeated with a trembling attitude towards his native land, where he grew up:
About Rus – crimson field
And blue, fallen in the river, –
I love to the joy and pain
Your lake yearning.
But Esenin’s landscapes are not uninhabited pictures, there is always a person in them. Nature, as it were, shares with the man his thoughts and feelings: he cries over his unfulfilled dreams, cautions him, shares his joy and sorrow with him. The expression of feelings through nature is a characteristic feature of Esenin’s
lyrics. “Maple you are my fallen, maple frozen, what are you standing, bending under a snowstorm white?” – these words begin one of Yesenin’s poems, in which he compares himself, his state with this tree: “I thought I was the same maple, only not fallen, but full green.”
Especially often the poet turns to the favorite image of folk poetry – the image of a birch tree. He has a birch – the embodiment of everything pure and beautiful, “green-haired in a skirt white stands a birch over a pond,” she – “girl”, “bride.” These comparisons humanize nature, they are so colorful that they transform even the most ordinary things. And this feature of Yesenin’s poetry makes him re-read his poems again and again. It seems to me that nobody has ever written about Russia before him. The sense of nature, the feeling of unity with her are reflected in a colorful and multifaceted manner. Nature exists level with a person, and maybe it costs even higher than it.
Whom to spare? After all, every stranger in the world –
Will pass, go and leave the house again.
About all the departed dreams a cannabis
With a broad month over the blue pond.
Yesenin and himself feel part of nature: her son, pupil and interlocutor:
Having forgotten the human grief,
I sleep on the felling of the bough.
I pray for the Dawn of the Dawn,
Communion near the stream.
In the work of Yesenin, there is also an ancient, almost pagan relation to nature. He fully recognizes her independence and animation:
Syclinic-wind step careful
Folds foliage along the projections by road
And he kisses the rowan bush
Sores red to the invisible Christ.
Sergei Esenin came to poetry to sing his native nature. “My lyrics are alive with one great love – love for the motherland,” said the poet, “the feeling of the motherland is fundamental in my work.” And this trembling attitude, this pure and beautiful love, he carried through all his life, through all the poetry. And even time is not powerful over Yesenin’s poetry, because each generation discovers something close and dear to him. Yesenin became the “last poet” not only of the village, but of the whole Rus of the outgoing, that of Rus, the myth of which existed for centuries. “I am very sad now, the story is going through a difficult era of killing a person as a living person.”