The world of nature enters the human soul from the moment of its birth, causing genuine astonishment and delight. Over the years, this perception becomes calm and meaningful, and on how deep a person is able to see and feel the surrounding beauty, his moral character largely depends.
Pushkin’s poetry reveals to us the unique charm of our native nature. Under the influence of his marvelous poems, we travel to the sea, admire the view of the Caucasus from a height, relax in a quiet rural “desert corner”, putting our thoughts and feelings in order, or rushing along the winter road, hearing the distant ringing of a bell.
In Pushkin’s lyrics, Russian nature comes alive in its discreetly captivating beauty. The golden and crimson colors of autumn are replaced
Oh, the summer is red! I would have loved you,
If it had not been for the heat, but the dust, and the mosquitoes, and the flies.
Pushkin also speaks frankly about the spring:
I do not like spring;
I’m bored with thaw, stink, dirt – in the spring I’m sick.
The blood is wandering; feelings, and my mind are restrained.
In the severe winter I am more satisfied.
But spring has long been regarded in poetry as the most beautiful time of the year, when nature revives, the soul awakens. But Pushkin closer autumn and winter.
And every autumn I blossom again;
My health is good for Russian cold;
To the habits of being again I feel love: The
dream rolls off by sleep, hunger finds chrest;
It’s easy and joyful to play blood in the heart,
Desire boils – I’m happy again, young.
The storm darkness covers the sky,
Whirling snow whirling,
As a beast, it wails, It cries
like a child.
Something about the roof of the dilapidated
Suddenly the straw will rustle.
The way, as a traveler belated,
To us in the window clatter.
On such an evening it is especially good, basking in the fire, listening to songs and fairy-tales, when a blizzard outside the window. But nature is unique in its variability. The morning comes – and there is no trace of yesterday’s weather. In the poem “Winter Morning” our eye opens a fascinating picture:
Under the blue skies,
Shining in the sun, the snow lies;
Transparent forest one blackens,
And the spruce grows green through the hoarfrost,
And the river shines under the fret.
Its charm is also in the frosty winter night, remarkably portrayed by the poet:
What a night! The frost is crackling,
There is not a single cloud in the sky;
Like a shrouded canopy, a blue vault
Shining with frequent stars.
At night, when everything is plunged into a dream, the poet can by the power of his imagination move to the historical past of his country, during the time of oprichnina. But this cruel era of the gallows and executions has long passed, and over Moscow is still stretched a huge blue arch, strewn with stars. Nature is eternal. She, as before, is amazing and changeable and continues to admire the poet’s eyes.
None of the seasons did not cause Pushkin such charm, as autumn. He managed to see and convey the richness and variety of its colors, which seem even more beautiful on the eve of a close dying.
Dull time! eyes of charm!
I am pleased with your farewell beauty –
I love the magnificent nature of withering,
In crimson and gold clad forests.
In this poem Pushkin finds for the description of his favorite season of the year amazing, full of deep sense of comparison. He likens autumn to the unloved child in the family. Trying to explain his special attitude to this age of withering, the poet compares it to a girl dying of consumption:
Playing on the face is still purple,
She is still alive today, tomorrow is gone.
But autumn is especially dear to Pushkin also because it awakens his creative powers, forcing to revive the poetic imagination. To many great works of Pushkin we owe the fall. He remarkably conveys in the poem of the same name, how inspiration is born and images, rhymes, sounds, dreams come true.
And the thoughts in my head are excited in courage,
And the rhymes are light to meet them running,
And fingers ask to pen, pen to paper,
Minute – and poems will freely flow.
Pushkin’s poems about nature reveal not only his tastes and peculiarities of perception, but also such moral qualities as freedom, humanity, patriotism. These feelings permeate the poem “The Village”, in which the author paints with a love and tenderness a soft, but captivating rural landscape:
I’m yours – I love this dark garden
With its coolness and flowers,
This meadow, filled with fragrant stacks,
Where the bright streams in the bushes rustle. These lines are perceived as recognition of the poet in love to his native land, to his people. His eyes freed from “vain shackles” look at the slavish position of the Russian peasantry, his mind and conscience of a humanist can not be reconciled with this. The poem sounds a hot appeal to progressive-minded people to fight for the liberation of their people. After all, freedom is the most valuable thing a person can have.
To understand and feel this helps Pushkin encounter with the sea. The “free element” amazes him with his power and boundlessness, it is consonant with his thoughts and feelings. And, although it is impossible for man to acquire absolute will, he can preserve his inner freedom, which will remain with him forever, as a memory of the sea:
Farewell, the sea! I will not forget
Your solemn beauty
And for a long, long time I’ll hear
Your hum in the evening hours.
Thus, Pushkin’s lyrics give us the opportunity not only to enjoy the enchanting sounds of his poetry, but also to learn and understand much of the poet’s personality and, of course, make an unforgettable journey into the magical world of nature.