Military Review

The poet of the village. Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin

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] “Sergey Yesenin is not so much a person as an organ created by nature exclusively for poetry.”
A.M. Bitter


Sergey Yesenin was born on October 3 1895 in the village of Konstantinov, which lies in the Ryazan district of the Ryazan province. His mother, Tatyana Fedorovna Titova, married at sixteen, and her father, Alexander Nikitich, was one year older than her. He was rarely at home — he was sent to the Moscow butcher’s shop as a teenager, and since that time, Yesenin Sr. lived and worked there. Tatiana Fyodorovna, however, was huddled in one hut along with her mother-in-law, and when her husband's brother married, the two daughters-in-law in the house became cramped and quarrels began. Yesenin's mother tried to get a divorce, but nothing happened without her husband’s permission. Then Tatyana Fedorovna returned to her parental home and, in order not to be a burden, went to work, entrusting two-year-old Seryozha to her father, Fyodor Andreevich. He already had three adult unmarried sons, whom the boy was in the fun. The mischievous uncles, teaching the three-year-old child to swim, were thrown from a boat into the wide Oka, then put on a horse, letting it go at a gallop. Later, when Sergei grew up, his father Alexander Nikitich shared with his brother, the family moved out, and relations in the Yesenins' house began to improve. In the future, a great poet will write about his parents: “... Somewhere my father and mother live, / Who doesn't give a damn about all my poems, / I cherish like a field and like flesh, / Like the rain that looses green in the spring ./ They would prick you with a pitchfork to stab you up / For every cry that you throw at me. "

The Yesenins were devout people, and often Tatyana Fyodorovna along with her mother-in-law and little Seryozha went pilgrims to the monasteries. In their house, wandering blind men often stayed, among whom were wonderful performers of spiritual poetry. On Sundays, the boy attended church. In general, the Esenin childhood strongly resembled the adventures of his transatlantic peer Tom Sawyer described by Mark Twain. The poet himself later said to himself: "Thin and short, / Among boys there is always a hero, / Often, often with a broken nose / I came to my home."


The house where S. A. Yesenin was born. Konstantinovo


At the age of eight, Yesenin, imitating the romping local ditties, for the first time tried to add verses. And in September, 1904 Sergey went to the Zemstvo four-year school. He studied there, by the way, for five years, because due to bad behavior he was left in his second year in third grade. But he graduated from college with a meritorious certificate, which was a rarity for Konstantinovo. By that time, Yesenin had already read quite a lot, scaring his illiterate mother, who was saying with a sigh: “Throw down the void again! Dyachok in Fedyakin also loved to read. I read it before that I lost my mind. ” In 1909, Yesenin, “since he is such a scribe,” was sent to study at a church school in the distant trading village of Spas-Klepiki. According to the teachers' stories, the distinctive feature of Sergey’s character was “gaiety, cheerfulness, and even some excessive ridiculousness”. By that time he was already actively writing poetry, but the teachers did not find anything outstanding in them. Most of his comrades were diligent and diligent, and, according to his recollections, Yesenin "really scoffed" at them. The case often came to a fight, and in the scuffle, he was often the victim. However, he never complained, while he was often complained: “And to meet a frightened mother / I squeezed through my bloody mouth: /“ Nothing! I stumbled on a stone, / It will heal by tomorrow. ”

At sixteen (1911) Sergey Alexandrovich graduated from a church teacher's school. The next step was to enter the metropolitan teacher's institute, but the poet did not do this: "Didactics and methods were so fed up with me that I did not even want to listen." A year later, Yesenin, on a call from his father, left for Moscow. In the capital, a place was found for him in the butcher's farm of Krylov. But in the clerks (in the current "office workers") Sergey Alexandrovich did not last long, and, in order to be closer to his beloved books, got a job as a seller in a bookstore. Then he worked as a freight forwarder in the famous Sytin Association, and then there he was also an assistant corrector. In those years, he read a lot, spending all the money he earned on new magazines and books. He also continued to write poems and unsuccessfully offered them to various editions. The father scolded his son: “You have to work, and you roll poems ...”.

In 1913, Yesenin entered the Shanyavsky People’s University and in the evenings he attended lectures on literature there. And soon he met Anna Izryadnova, who was four years older than him and worked as a proofreader in Sytin's printing house. They began to live together in a modest room near the Serpukhov outpost. At this time, Sergey Aleksandrovich got a job as a proofreader at the printing house of Chernyshev-Kobelkov, however, the work took him too much time and effort, and he soon quit. At the end of 1914, the firstborn of Yuri was born to the poet. Izryadnova said: "He looked at his son with curiosity and repeated everything:" Here I am and my father. " Then he got used, shook, lulled, sang songs over him. ” And in January, 1915 in the children's magazine “Mirok” published the first work of Esenin - now the textbook verse “Birch”. But all this was just a threshold ...

In one of his letters to a friend, Sergei Alexandrovich reported: “Moscow is not the engine of literary development, it is used by everyone from St. Petersburg ... There is not a single journal here. And those that are, fit only in the trash. " Soon a young and unknown writer "unexpectedly struck out to St. Petersburg." With poems tied up with a village handkerchief, Yesenin went straight from the station to the very Block. By that time, the village boy’s “cherub-like” village boy was ready to have more than sixty poems and poems, including the most famous lines: “If the holy army shouts: /“ Thou art Rus, live in paradise! ”/ I will say:“ Do not paradise / Give my homeland. " After Esenin told how, seeing the "live" Blok, immediately sweated from the excitement. However, he could have thrown a poet into a sweat for another reason - he came to Alexander Alexandrovich in his grandfather's boots and a naked sheepskin coat, and at that time the spring 1915 was boiling in the yard. Of course, it was a masquerade, a kind of bait, which immediately met the capital bohemian. Country nugget in St. Petersburg literary environment has created a real sensation. Everyone wanted to see him as a poet “from the plow only”, and Sergey Aleksandrovich played along with them. Yes, it was not difficult for him - yesterday's Moscow days in comparison with the village days were rather short. Blok gave the Ryazan guy a recommendation letter to the writer Sergei Gorodetsky, who was keen on pan-Slavism. Sergei Mitrofanovich poet and settled. Later, Yesenin, touched by Alexander Alexandrovich’s attention, argued that “I would forgive the bloc everything.” Gorodetsky also presented the poet with a letter of recommendation to Mirolyubov, the publisher of the Monthly Journal: “Caress this young talent. He has a ruble in his pocket and wealth in his soul. ”

According to one critic, "the literary chronicle did not know of an easier and quicker entry into literature." Gorodetsky noted "From the very first lines it became clear to me what joy had come to Russian poetry." Gorky echoed him: “The city met Yesenin with admiration as the glutton greeted strawberries in January. His poems began to praise insincerely and excessively, as the envious and hypocrites know how to praise. ” However, Yesenin was not only “insincere and excessively praised” - at one stiff reception, the poetess Zinaida Hippius, pointing her lorgnette over Esenin’s felt boots, said loudly: “What fun entertaining leggings!”. All present snobs rolled with laughter. Chernyavsky recalled: “He walked like in a forest, smiled, looked around, was still not sure about anything, however he firmly believed in himself ... This spring, Seryozha passed among us ... passed, finding a great many friends, and , no friend.

In just a couple of months, the “wonderful spring boy” conquered St. Petersburg and at the end of April 1915 departed for the village. In the summer, metropolitan journals published collections of Esenin's poems. In October of the same year, Sergei Alexandrovich returned to the northern capital and became close friends with the poet, representative of the Novo-peasant direction, Nikolai Klyuev. The influence of Nikolai Alekseevich on Yesenin in 1915-1916 was enormous. Gorodetsky wrote: "A wonderful poet and a cunning clever man, charming with his work closely adjacent to the spiritual poems and the epics of the north, Klyuev undoubtedly mastered the young Yesenin ...". It is curious that the periods of friendship between Sergei Alexandrovich and the “Olonetsky Guslar” were followed by periods of hatred - Yesenin rebelled against the authority of his friend, defending and asserting his identity. Despite further discrepancies, until the last days, Yesenin singled out Klyuev from the crowd of friends around him, and once he confessed that he was the only person he really loved: “Take away ... of Blok, Klyuev - what will remain with me? Horseradish and a pipe like a Turkish saint. ”

In the world, meanwhile, there was the First World War. In January, 1916, with the help of Klyuev, published the Yesenin book of poems "Radunitsa", and in the same January he was called up for military service. He was enrolled as an orderly at the Tsarskoye Selo field military-sanitary train assigned to an infirmary under the tutelage of the empress. As part of this train, Sergei Alexandrovich was on the front line. For the wounded in the hospital, concerts were often held, and at one of these performances in the middle of 1916, Yesenin, in the presence of the empress and grand princesses, read his works. At the end of the speech, Alexandra Feodorovna said that the verses are very beautiful, but sad. The poet said that this is all of Russia. The meeting had fatal consequences. In the salons of the “advanced” liberals, where Sergei Alexandrovich had recently “shone”, a storm of indignation arose. Poet Georgy Ivanov wrote: “The monstrous rumor was confirmed - Yesenin’s vile act is not fiction or libel. Our Yesenin, “dear”, “adorable boy” introduced herself to Alexandra Feodorovna, read poems to her and received permission to dedicate the whole cycle to the empress in a new book! ” Sophia Chatkina, a rich liberal lady, whose funds were used by the Northern Notes journal, tore at Yesenin’s manuscript at a magnificent reception, shouting: “They have burned the snake. New Rasputin. Yesenin's book "The Blue" was published in 1917, but at the last moment the poet who had undergone a liberal dressing took the dedication to the empress.

After February, 1917 Sergey Alexandrovich voluntarily left the army and joined the Socialist-Revolutionaries, working with them "as a poet, not as a party." In the spring of the same year, he met Zinaida Reich, a young secretary-typewriter of the Left Socialist-Revolutionary newspaper Matter of the People. In the summer, he invited the girl to go with him on a boat to the White Sea, and on the way back he proposed to her. The marriage was hasty, and at first the newlyweds lived apart. But soon Yesenin took two furnished rooms on Liteyny Prospect and moved there with his young wife. At that time, he printed a lot and paid him well. Cherniavsky recalled that the young people “despite the beginning of the hunger strike, knew how to be friendly hospitable people” - Sergey Alexandrovich always attached great importance to his home life.

The whirlwind of revolution whirled the poet, as well as many others. Later, Yesenin will write: "During the war and revolution, fate pushed me from side to side." In 1918, he returned to Moscow, which had become the capital, added the poem "Inonia" and joined the group of proletarian literary men. At that moment, Sergei Aleksandrovich tried to establish his own poetic school, but did not find a response from his comrades. The union with proletarian poets did not last long, Yesenin, who was disillusioned with them, later (on 1923) wrote: "No matter how I recommend and praise Trotsky of various Nameless, the penny is worthless to proletarian art ...".

1919 Yesenin considered the most important year of his life. He reported: “We then lived in the winter in five degrees of room cold. We did not have any logs of firewood. ” By that time, he essentially broke up with Zinaida Reich, who went to her family in Oryol, and she was stuck there - in May 1918 she gave birth to a daughter, Yesenin, Tatiana. Later, in Orel, her marriage with Yesenin was officially dissolved. The second child, Kostya, was born after their divorce. According to the poet Mariengof, Sergey Alexandrovich, looking at the baby, immediately turned away: "The Yesenins are not black." Nevertheless, he always kept a photograph of grown-up children in his pocket.

Sergey Aleksandrovich himself at that time did not abandon thoughts about creating a new literary movement. He explained to his friend: “Words, like old coins, were erased, having lost their original poetic power. We cannot create new words, but we have found a way to revive the dead, enclosing them in vivid poetic images. ” In February, 1919, Yesenin, together with the poets Anatoly Mariengof, Rurik Ivnev and Vadim Shershenevich, founded the “Order of Imaginists” (literary movement, whose representatives determined the creation of the image by the purpose of creativity) and released the well-known Manifesto. Imagist literary evenings were held in the literary cafe "Pegasus Stable", where Sergey Alexandrovich, despite the "dry law", was served vodka without fail. In addition, the poet and his associates were published in the magazine under the interesting name "Hotel for traveling to the beautiful", and also had their own bookstore. In Imaginism, according to Gorodetsky, Yesenin found "an antidote against the village" —the framework was narrow for him, now he did not want to be just a peasant poet and "consciously went towards becoming the first Russian poet." Critics rushed to declare him a “hooligan”, and hooliganism for Sergey Alexandrovich became not only a poetic way, but also a way of life. In the snow-covered Moscow 1921, when everyone went in boots and earflaps, Yesenin and his friends walked around in a top hat, tailcoat, and lacquered boots. The poet could playfully wipe the wine spilled on the table, whistle like a boy in three fingers so that people ran to the side, and told about the cylinder: “I don’t walk in a top hat for women - / / It is more convenient in him, having reduced his sadness, / to give the mare gold. In the early twenties, the Imaginists traveled all over the country — one of Mariengof’s high school gymnasts became a major railway official and had a saloon car at his disposal, giving his friends permanent seats. Often, Yesenin himself worked out the route of his next trip. During one of his travels right on the train, Sergei Alexandrovich wrote the famous poem Sorokoust.

At the end of 1920 in the cafe “Stall of Pegasus,” the poet met Galina Benislavskaya, who was working at the Cheka at Krylenko at that time. According to some reports, she was assigned to the poet as a secret employee. However, agents can fall in love. Sergey Alexandrovich, not having his own corner, from time to time lived with Galina Arturovna, who loved her unrequitedly. She helped the poet in every possible way - she led his business, ran through the editorial offices, entered into agreements for the publication of poems. And in the hungry 1921, the renowned dancer Isadora Duncan arrived in the capital of Russia, delirious with the idea of ​​a children's international - a pledge of the future brotherhood of all nations. In Moscow, she was going to establish a children's dance school, gather hundreds of children into it and teach them the language of movements. Under the school studio "great sandals" took a huge mansion on Prechistenka, and she settled there in one of the gilded halls. With Sergey Alexandrovich, who was eighteen years younger than her, Isadora met in the workshop of the artist Yakulov (also an imagist) and instantly converged with him. There is an opinion that Yesenin reminded her of a little son who died in a car accident. It is curious that the poet did not know a single foreign language, saying: “I don’t know and do not want to know - I’m afraid to dirty my native one”. Later he wrote from America: “Apart from the Russian language, I do not recognize any other, and I keep myself so that if anyone is curious to talk with me, then let him study Russian.” When asked how he explained with “Sidor”, Yesenin, actively moving his hands, showed: “And this is how mine is yours, yours is mine ... You cannot handle her, she understands everything.” Rurik Ivnev also certified: “Isadora’s sensitivity was amazing. She unmistakably caught all the shades of the mood of the interlocutor, not only fleeting, but almost everything that hid in the soul. ”



Sergei Aleksandrovich, who had sent the Pugachev press and the Confession of a hooligan in the meantime, visited the dancer every day and, eventually, moved her to Prechistenka. Of course, the young imagists followed him. Perhaps, in order to take the poet away from them, Isadora Duncan suggested that Yesenin go with her to a joint world tour in which she would dance, and he would recite poetry. On the eve of departure, they got married, and both took a double surname. The poet had fun: "From now on, I am Duncan-Yesenin." In the spring of 1922, the newly wedded couple flew abroad. Gorky, with whom the poet met abroad, wrote about their relationship: “This famous woman, glorified by thousands of fine connoisseurs of plastics, next to a short, amazing poet from Ryazan was the complete embodiment of everything he didn’t need.” By the way, at their meeting Sergey Alexandrovich read Gorky one of the first versions of the “Black Man”. Alexey Maksimovich at the same time "cried ... tears cried." Subsequently, the well-known critic Svyatopolk-Mirsky defined the poem as "one of the highest points of Yesenin's poetry." The poet himself, according to the testimony of friends, believed that it was “the best that he had ever done.”

Abroad, the aging Isadora began to roll up wild scenes of jealousy to the poet, pounding the dishes, and once arranged such a rout in the hotel, in which Sergey Alexandrovich tired of her disappeared, that she had to pledge property to pay the presented bill. Yesenin, at that time, sent desperate letters home: “Paris is a green city, only the French have a boring tree. The fields outside the city are combed and tidy, the farms are white. And I, by the way, took a clod of earth - and it does not smell anything. ” When he returned home, he told his friends: “As soon as we arrived in Paris, I wanted to buy a cow - I decided to ride a horse on it. That would have been a laugh! ”Meanwhile, Franz Ellens, who was the translator of Yesenin’s poems, noted:“ This peasant was an immaculate aristocrat. ” Another interesting line from Yesenin’s letter to Mariengof: “Everything is tidied up here, ironed. Your gaze would have liked it at first, and then you would start slapping yourself on the knees and how to whine like a dog. A solid cemetery - all these people, who lurk faster than lizards, and not people at all, but grave worms. Their homes - the coffin, the mainland - the crypt. He who lived here died long ago, and only we remember him. For worms cannot remember. ”

In America, Duncan and Yesenin sailed on a huge ocean liner "Paris". The tour was accompanied by scandals - Isadora danced to the sounds of the Internationale with a red flag in her hands, in Boston, the mounted police, dispersing the audience, drove right into the ground floor, journalists did not let the couple pass, and the poet himself wrote: "In America, art is not needed by anyone ... Soul which in Russia measures for pounds, is not needed here. In America, the soul - it's unpleasant, like unbuttoned pants. " After staying abroad for more than a year, in August 1923 Isadora Duncan and Yesenin returned to Russia, almost from the train station’s platform going their separate ways. Sergey Aleksandrovich, who had returned home, according to his comrades, “as a child was happy about everything, touched his hands with trees, houses ...”.

The time of the NEP came, and people in furs began to appear in literary cafes, who perceived poetry reading poems as another dish on the menu. Yesenin at one of these performances, having come on the scene last, exclaimed: “Do you think I left you to read poetry? No, I then went out to send you to ... Charlatans and speculators! .. ”People jumped up from their seats, a fight started, they called the police. There were a lot of similar scandals with drives for Sergey Alexandrovich, and the poet answered all the questions about them: “Everything comes from being angry at petty bourgeoisie, raising its head. It is necessary to beat him in the face with a biting verse, dumbfounded, in an unusual way, if you want, with a scandal - let them know that poets are unshakable, restless, enemies of swamp welfare ”. One of the critics noted that the “hooliganism” of the poet was “a purely superficial phenomenon, worn out of mischief and thirst to be known as original ... Left to himself, he would take a quiet and calm road ... because in poetry he is Mozart”.

In the autumn of 1923, Yesenin had a new hobby - actress Augusta Miklashevskaya. His wife Mariengof introduced him to her, both performed in the Chamber Theater. Lovers walked around Moscow, sat in the cafe of imagists. The actress was amazed by the strange way of communicating imagists. She wrote in memoirs that the sober Sergei Alexandrovich and his poetry were not needed by his comrades, they were arranged by his famous scandals that attracted curious people to the café. It must be said that Yesenin at the time, half in jest, half seriously tried on the role of the poetic heir of Alexander Pushkin and even wore (together with the notorious cylinder) Pushkin's lionfish. It was a lot of game, masquerade and shocking. Rurik Ivnev, for example, argued that the poet "loved to joke and joke, making it so clever and subtle that he almost always managed to catch people" with a bait. " Very soon, Yesenin and Miklashevskaya broke up.



From the end of 1923 to March 1924, Sergey Alexandrovich was in hospitals — either in Polyanka (with a bit of a mental disorder), now in Sheremetyevo Hospital (either by injuring his hand, or by cutting his veins), then in the Kremlin clinic. By the way, there are many curious stories of friends and acquaintances of the poet, indicating that Yesenin was sick of persecution delusions. For example, the poet Nikolai Aseev wrote that Yesenin "told him in a whisper that he was being watched, that he shouldn’t remain a single minute, that he wouldn’t miss anything either and he wouldn’t be allowed alive." However, Sergei Alexandrovich had reason to fear. In the autumn of 1923, Yesenin, Klychkov, Oreshin, and Ganin were involved in the “Case of Four Poets”. The court decided to bring them "public censure", poets were accused in the media of "black-Hundred, hooligan and antisocial behavior, as well as idealism and mysticism", in the pages of magazines and newspapers walking the term "Yeseninschin". And in November 1924 was arrested the poet Alexei Ganin (among other things, witness Yesenin at the wedding with Reich), declared the head of the "Order of the Russian Fascists." He was shot in March by 1925, and in 1966 he was rehabilitated due to the “absence of corpus delicti.” In total, more than a dozen cases were brought to Yesenin after returning from abroad - all the applicants were well versed in the criminal law, instantly pointing out to the police the articles of the criminal code for which the poet should have been involved. It is worth noting that in 1924, Yesenin broke off relations with Mariengof. The quarrel in the description of the witnesses was rather strange, but since then the paths of the two poets have diverged forever. And in April 1924 Sergey Alexandrovich refused to cooperate with imagistists. At that moment, he planned to found a new magazine called "Muscovite" and, according to his friends, again began to "glance in the direction of" muzhikovskuyuschie ": Klyuev, Klychkova, Oreshin." However, nothing happened with the magazine.

In 1924, Yesenin wrote a terrific series “Persian Motives” and finished work on the poem “Anna Snegina”. It is curious that when Alexandrovich was alive, not a single response appeared on her. It was also with other poems. Gorodetsky noted: “All his work was only a brilliant start. If the share of what is now being said and written about him, Yesenin would have heard during his lifetime, perhaps this beginning would have the same continuation. However, the vigorous creativity did not find his Belinsky. "

It is worth noting that Yesenin treated children and beasts with great affection. In the twenties in ravaged Russia was full of street children. The poet could not easily pass by them, approached the little tramps and gave them money. Once in Tiflis Sergey Aleksandrovich climbed into the collector, in which little lousy, dirty with coal dust, lay on the plank beds and sat. A poet found a common language with “Oliver Twists” (as Yesenin called homeless children in Russia “homeless”) instantly, a lively conversation began to thicken with jargon. Sergei Alexandrovich’s smart outfit didn’t bother the homeless teenagers, they immediately recognized the poet as his own.

Family disarray and homelessness Yesenin - the last year, he then toiled in hospitals, then traveled to the Caucasus, he lived in Bryusovskiy lane near Galina Benislavskaya. The poet’s sisters — Katya and Shura — whom Sergey Alexandrovich had transported to the capital, lived right there. In almost every letter, Yesenin gave the Benislav order to collect money for his poems in publishing houses and magazines and spend it on the maintenance of sisters. When Yesenin was in the city, his numerous comrades came to the house of Benislavsky. The sisters recalled that Yesenin never drank alone, but after drinking he quickly grew drunk and became unbridled. At the same time, one of his friends noted: “His slightly faded eyes began to look in a new way. Yesenin made an impression of a man burned with some kind of disastrous inner fire ... Once he said: “You know, I decided to get married, I was tired of such a life, I don’t have my own corner”.

In March, 1925 Sergey Alexandrovich met Lev Tolstoy’s twenty-five-year-old granddaughter, whose name was Sophia Andreevna, just like the wife of a great writer. Yesenina's sister described her in this way: “The girl looked very much like her grandfather — sharp and domineering in anger, sentimental and smiling sweetly in a good mood.” In the spring of 1925, Yesenin left for the Caucasus. This was not the first trip of the poet to the eternal place of exile of Russian writers. For the first time, Sergey Alexandrovich visited 1924 there in the fall and, moving from place to place, lived in the Caucasus for six months.

In May, 1925 Yesenin arrived in Baku. It is curious that Sergei Aleksandrovich had his outer clothing stolen on the train, and, as a result, the writer caught a cold and became ill. He was diagnosed with a Qatar of the right lung and had to undergo a course of treatment in a Baku hospital. And the poet went to the Trinity home. It was not good at home — back in 1922, when Yesenin was abroad, there was a terrible fire in Konstantinov. Polsela burned out, his father's house burned down completely. On the insurance, Yesenin's parents purchased a six-chin hut, placing it in the garden, and they began to build only after their son returned from abroad. However, the most terrible thing for a poet was the disintegration of the established peasant world over the centuries. Esenin told friends: “I visited the village. Everything is collapsing there ... You need to be from there yourself to understand ... Everything is over. ” Sergey Alexandrovich brought new poems from the village and immediately made an offer to Sophia Tolstoy. In July, they went to rest in Baku, returned to Moscow in early September, and the 18 numbers were legal marriage. This event was marked in a narrow family circle. The young settled in the apartment of Tolstoy, located in Pomerantsev Lane. Almost in the first week after the marriage, Yesenin wrote to his comrade that “everything that I hoped for and dreamed of was crumbling to dust. Family life does not stick and I want to escape. But where? Yesenin was visited by friends, and when asked how the poet lived, pointing to dozens of portraits and photographs of Leo Tolstoy, he said: “Sadly. I'm tired of the beard ... ".

In the last month of the poet’s life, events developed rapidly - 26 in November 1925 Yesenin went to the psychoneurological clinic of Professor Gannushkin and worked fruitfully there. On December 7 he sent a telegram to his comrade, the poet Wolf Ehrlich: “Find two or three rooms immediately. Moving to live Leningrad. December 21 Sergey Alexandrovich left the clinic, took all his money from the savings book and 23 went to the Northern Capital by an evening train. Upon arrival in Leningrad, Yesenin informed one of his friends that he would not return to his wife, would transport his sisters here, would organize his own journal here, and also write “a big prosaic thing - a novel or a novel”. 28 December 1925 Sergey Alexandrovich was found dead in the fifth room of the famous Angleter Hotel.

Shortly before his death, Yesenin said - enough autobiographies, let it remain a legend. And so it happened - Sergey Aleksandrovich is one of the most common myths of the twentieth century. According to the official version, the poet, being in a state of black melancholy, hanged himself on the pipe of steam heating, using the rope from the suitcase, presented to him by Gorky. This version is confirmed by documentary evidence - an act of autopsy, death certificates, a farewell letter from Yesenin himself, stuck on the eve of Erlich. According to another version, the death of the poet was guilty of the Cheka. Countless attacks on the Bolsheviks (according to the writer Andrei Sobol, “so the Bolsheviks, as Yesenin publicly did, couldn’t come to anyone, everyone who said a tenth share would have been shot long ago”), a quarrel in the Caucasus with the influential Jacob Blumkin (who even shot the poet, as if Martynov, but missed), Trotsky, offended by the poem “The Country of Scoundrels” - all this could well cause the security officers to eliminate, in their opinion, too much of a poet. According to other assumptions, the murder was not included in their plans, in exchange for getting rid of litigation, they wanted to make Sergei Alexandrovich only an informant. And when the enraged Yesenin rushed to the provocateurs, he was killed. Hence, a huge bruise above the poet’s eye, written off as a burn from a hot heating pipe, and a rout in the room, and the poet’s disappeared shoes and jacket, and a raised hand, which Yesenin is still alive, struggled to pull the rope from his throat. Young imagist painter Wolf Ehrlich, who allegedly found a suicide letter, later turned out to be a secret officer of the Cheka. The classic thirty pieces of silver are attached to this monitor - they did not find any money removed by Yesenin.

The poet of the village. Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin

The fate of some of Yesenin’s women turned out to be tragic. His first wife, Zinaida Reich, was brutally stabbed to death in her own apartment on the night of July 15 1939. The second wife of the poet Isadora Duncan survived him for a year and nine months. She died in an accident - a red shawl, slipping overboard of a racing car, wound on the wheel, the dancer died instantly. Galina Benislavskaya, a year after the death of Sergey Alexandrovich, shot herself dead at his grave. The revolver, by the way, gave five (!) Misfires.

In the Russian tradition it is extremely important how a person died. For the unsolved death of the poet, the victim is seen, and this, throwing a shining beam at his fate, elevates Yesenin to the heavenly height. Critic Svyatopolk-Mirsky wrote in 1926: “For the Russian reader, not to love Yesenin is now a sign of either blindness or some kind of moral defects.” No matter how hard the aesthetes and snobs try to belittle and diminish the role of Sergey Alexandrovich in literature, labeling “poet for the crowd”, “for simpletons”, “for cattle”, “for gangsters”, Yesenin remains the first poet of the twentieth century in popular opinion.

According to the materials of the site http://esenin.su/ and the weekly edition “Our история. 100 Great Names »
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  1. Igor39
    Igor39 3 October 2015 05: 53 New
    13
    "I have one fun left ..." Sergey Yesenin

    I was left with just one fun:
    Fingers in the mouth - and a funny whistle.
    Fame was notorious,
    What a dope I and brawler.

    Oh! what a ridiculous loss!
    Lots of funny losses in life.
    I'm ashamed that I believed in God.
    It's bitter to me that I do not believe now.

    Golden, far away!
    Everything burns everyday life.
    And I was fucking scandalous
    In order to brighter burn.

    The gift of the poet is to caress and scribble,
    Fatal stamp on it.
    Rose white with a black toad
    I wanted to marry on the ground.

    Let not be united, let it not come true
    These thoughts are pink days.
    But if the devils in the soul nested -
    So the angels lived in it.

    Here's for this fun merry,
    Departing with her in a different land,
    I want at the last minute
    Ask those who will be with me -

    To all my sins for my sins,
    For disbelief in grace
    Put me in a Russian shirt
    Under the icons die.


    Yes, the Cheka killed him, he loved life, and he would hardly have hanged himself, and the facts also say that this is the work of the Cheka.
    1. sherp2015
      sherp2015 3 October 2015 10: 10 New
      +6
      Quote: Igor39
      Yes, the Cheka killed him, he loved life, and he would hardly have hanged himself, and the facts also say that this is the work of the Cheka.


      Yesenin was a real Russian man and poet! Chekist snails Blumkins and military commanders Trotsky, Tukhachevsky struggled to fill the country with blood, they hated prominent Russian people and leaders by all means: provocations, artillery, gases ...
      1. Alena Frolovna
        Alena Frolovna 3 October 2015 11: 50 New
        +9


        The soul is sad about heaven ...
        The soul is sad about heaven
        She is not a local inhabitant here.
        I love when on the trees
        The green fire stirs.
        That bough of golden trunks
        Like candles, glow before a secret
        And the stars of words blossom
        On their original foliage.
        I understand the earth verb,
        But I won’t shake this flour,
        As reflected in the waters dol
        Suddenly a comet in the sky.
        So horses won't shake their tails
        To the ridges of their drinking moon ...
        Oh, if I could grow my eyes
        Like these leaves, in depth.
        Sergei Yesenin

        fig. Valeria Skobeeva "S. Yesenin. The last poet of the village
  2. aszzz888
    aszzz888 3 October 2015 06: 08 New
    -3
    I don’t know what relation S. Yesenin has to VO, therefore at least as perplexity.
    Although the poet himself has no complaints.
    After all, he is ours, he is RUSSIAN.
    1. Tatar 174
      Tatar 174 3 October 2015 06: 16 New
      19
      Quote: aszzz888
      I don’t know what relation S. Yesenin has to VO, therefore at least as perplexity.
      Although the poet himself has no complaints.
      After all, he is ours, he is RUSSIAN.

      Yesenin is a part of the soul of the Russian people and therefore has a relation in everything, incl. and in.
      1. navigator
        navigator 3 October 2015 09: 45 New
        -10
        "Yesenin is a part of the soul of the Russian people and therefore has a relation in everything, including to VO."

        Tatar174, overdid about part of the soul of the Russian people. Anna Akhmatova, Marina Tsvetaeva, Alexander Blok, Vladimir Mayakovsky, Mikhail Lermontov, Athanasius Fet, Gabriel Derzhavin, Vasily Zhukovsky, Mikhail Lomonosov, Fedor Tyutchev are also “part of the soul of the Russian people”, but neither they, no analysis of their work, have nothing to do with VO. And it doesn’t matter whether the Russian is a Tatar, the patriot is not a patriot. Such an article is good for poetry.
        1. washi
          washi 3 October 2015 11: 03 New
          +1
          Tsvetaeva
          Quote: navigator
          "Yesenin is a part of the soul of the Russian people and therefore has a relation in everything, including to VO."

          Tatar174, overdid about part of the soul of the Russian people. Anna Akhmatova, Marina Tsvetaeva, Alexander Blok, Vladimir Mayakovsky, Mikhail Lermontov, Athanasius Fet, Gabriel Derzhavin, Vasily Zhukovsky, Mikhail Lomonosov, Fedor Tyutchev are also “part of the soul of the Russian people”, but neither they, no analysis of their work, have nothing to do with VO. And it doesn’t matter whether the Russian is a Tatar, the patriot is not a patriot. Such an article is good for poetry.

          Consider that you have been informed, for the best assimilation of the Russian character.
          By the way: "Persian motives" Yesenin wrote after the next "liberation" campaign of the Red Army in Iran. And, most likely, he was in the ranks of this army, and was not "treated", according to the official biography.
          On this campaign, everything is generally muddy. Either ours in Iran, then 26 Baku commissars, then an agreement with Iran, according to which we have the right to send troops to its territory (which still seems to be valid)
          1. navigator
            navigator 3 October 2015 12: 50 New
            -4
            "Consider that you have been informed, for the best assimilation of the Russian character."

            Thank you, Vasya, they just wrote in vain. Moreover, when the son of the Tatar people will inform me about the Russian soul. I will not inform the Tatar about the Tatar soul. Your speculation about the "Persian motives" "after the next" liberation "campaign of the Red Army in Iran. And, most likely, he was in the ranks of this army, and was not "treated", according to the official biography. "- This is just your speculation without evidence.

            "Either ours in Iran, then 26 Baku commissars, then an agreement with Iran, according to which we have the right to send troops to its territory (which still seems to be valid)

            And this in general has nothing to do with Yesenin.
        2. Tatar 174
          Tatar 174 3 October 2015 16: 57 New
          +2
          Quote: navigator
          Tatar174, overdid about part of the soul of the Russian people ... Such an article is good for poetry.ru

          Come on, I’m not Russian, but Fet and Blok, Pushkin, Lermontov, Shishkin, Levitan, Mussorgsky, Borodin and others - they are also my relatives since childhood, because I am part of this country, and they are part of the soul of this country, and not another. In general, it is the business of administrators and moderators to determine what is the place on the VO and what is not the place, since they missed the article, then we either read it or do not honor it, as you wish. Not all the same time to talk about air bombs and tanks. Do not want to - do not read.
          1. navigator
            navigator 3 October 2015 17: 58 New
            0
            "Come on, I’m not Russian, but Fet and Blok, Pushkin, Lermontov, Shishkin, Levitan, Mussorgsky, Borodin and others - they are also my relatives since childhood, because I am part of this country, and they are part of the soul of this country, not the other. "

            Glad for you. You have inattentively read my comments. There it is: Russian Tatar, patriot is not patriot, it doesn’t matter. You are mistaken in another. The country does not and cannot have a soul. There is history, there is glory, there is greatness , heritage, and so on, but there’s no soul. From your comments there is a false impression that I don’t like Yesenin, I don’t favor Tatars.


            "In general, it is the business of administrators and moderators to determine what is the place on VO and what is not the place, since they missed the article,"

            Well, why? We, too, have the right to express our opinion, to that and the forum, not all the same minuses to sculpt a flock on business and without work.

            "that means we either honor it or do not honor it, as you wish. It’s not all the time to talk about air bombs and tanks. If you don’t want to, don’t read it."

            I agree with this, everyone chooses, only it was not about that.
          2. The comment was deleted.
      2. The comment was deleted.
    2. Vityok
      Vityok 3 October 2015 07: 13 New
      +4
      Fall! The sky is fat.
      The rain is pouring
      Sad boring
      Time is running.
      1. Temples
        Temples 3 October 2015 09: 33 New
        +8
        I don’t know what relation S. Yesenin has to VO, therefore at least as perplexity.

        In my opinion, you just hurried, it happens.

        Just read Yesenin. How he loved the homeland!
        And he left us his inheritance.
        He is also the defender of our country, just his weapon is the WORD!
    3. Buffalo
      Buffalo 3 October 2015 09: 59 New
      -1
      Learn the story! Yesenin during the First World War served in the Russian army, in a military hospital.
      He put on stars, and knowledge - zero, like a martinet.
      1. 71rus
        71rus 3 October 2015 20: 47 New
        +2
        And what's wrong with the rank of soldiers, that you use it so carelessly, or consider yourself superior to a soldier, "Mr. Officer" ?!
        1. navigator
          navigator 3 October 2015 23: 53 New
          0
          "And what's wrong with the rank of soldiers, that you use it so carelessly, or consider yourself superior to a soldier," Mr. Officer ?! "

          Nothing wrong, the great commander Alexander Vasilievich Suvorov loved and respected the soldiers of his army, ate with them from the same cauldron, because he was great. The major bison is small, besides, poorly raised, and therefore behaves boorishly.
          1. Buffalo
            Buffalo 4 October 2015 21: 01 New
            0
            A soldier and a soldier, the concepts are diametrically opposed. I am ashamed not to know this.
            1. navigator
              navigator 4 October 2015 23: 02 New
              0
              "A soldier and a soldier, the concepts are diametrically opposed. It's a shame not to know that."

              It’s a shame, a bison, to be rude, to poke. As for the soldiers and the soldier, you’re just the behavior of the soldier.
    4. fif21
      fif21 3 October 2015 10: 22 New
      +2
      Quote: aszzz888
      After all, he is ours, he is RUSSIAN.

      The author (-) Yesenin is a poet of Russia, not a village!
    5. The comment was deleted.
    6. afdjhbn67
      afdjhbn67 3 October 2015 12: 26 New
      +1
      I'm ready, I'm timid
      look at the bottles of army
      I collect plugs to plug my soul ..

      only he was not a poet of the village, from the village, but rather
      about arable land and peasants he doesn’t have much ..

      so close to the soul of a Russian person only he and Vysotsky rose ..
    7. Altona
      Altona 4 October 2015 12: 01 New
      0
      Quote: aszzz888
      I don’t know what relation S. Yesenin has to VO, therefore at least as perplexity.
      Although the poet himself has no complaints.
      After all, he is ours, he is RUSSIAN.

      --------------------
      At least he didn’t change the oath, he always considered himself a soldier of the emperor, not like the Khokhlomords, who had already sworn 10 oaths ...
  3. Andrey Yuryevich
    Andrey Yuryevich 3 October 2015 06: 23 New
    +9
    The noise and din in this lair are creepy,
    But all night long until dawn
    I read poetry to prostitutes
    And with the bandits I'm frying alcohol.
    Heart beats more and more
    And I'm saying out of place:
    "I am the same as you, the missing,
    I can’t go back now. " good
    1. Kos_kalinki9
      Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 08: 33 New
      +3
      Quote: Andrew Y.
      The noise and din in this lair are creepy,
      But all night long until dawn
      I read poetry to prostitutes
      And with the bandits I'm frying alcohol.
      Heart beats more and more
      And I'm saying out of place:
      "I am the same as you, the missing,
      I can’t go back now. " good

      And this is the first poem after Moscow kabatskaya-
      There was a blue fire
      Forgotten darling gave
      The first time I started singing about love
      the first time I deny scandal

      I was all like a neglected garden
      Was on women and greedy avid ....


      Favorite poet. Favorite poem. HUMAN !!!!
  4. Revolver
    Revolver 3 October 2015 06: 37 New
    +3
    The article is interesting, and written very solidly. But what, apart from, perhaps, the fact of Esenin's short service in the medical train, does it relate to the theme of the site?what
    1. dmi.pris
      dmi.pris 3 October 2015 06: 43 New
      11
      Yes, just a man was a patriot, a poet of Russia.
      Quote: Nagan
      The article is interesting, and written very solidly. But what, apart from, perhaps, the fact of Esenin's short service in the medical train, does it relate to the theme of the site?what
    2. The comment was deleted.
    3. gjv
      gjv 3 October 2015 08: 23 New
      +4
      Quote: Nagan
      But what, apart from, perhaps, the fact of Esenin's short service in the medical train, does it relate to the theme of the site?

      The strength of reinforced concrete, the bulk of buildings constrained the brain of the American and narrowed his vision. The mores of Americans resemble the unforgettable Gogol's memory of the mores of Ivan Ivanovich and Ivan Nikiforovich. Just as the latter did not have a city better than Poltava, so the former do not have a better and more cultural country than America.

      The dominion of the dollar ate in them [the Americans] all aspirations for any complex issues. The American is completely immersed in "Business" and does not want to know the rest.

      Sergey Alexandrovich Yesenin. Iron Mirgorod, Essay on America, 1923
    4. Buffalo
      Buffalo 3 October 2015 10: 05 New
      +2
      Quote: Nagan
      The article is interesting, and written very solidly. But what, apart from, perhaps, the fact of Esenin's short service in the medical train, does it relate to the theme of the site?


      Well, at least the fact that S.A. Yesenin was and is the favorite poet of many Russian and Soviet officers, from among those who can not be classified as stupid soldiers.
  5. EDDI 76
    EDDI 76 3 October 2015 07: 51 New
    -1
    soaked to a fortuneteller do not go ... the strangers always stick out their tongue at least a little bit this
    1. 71rus
      71rus 3 October 2015 20: 43 New
      +2
      Soaked, speak, but I don’t see respect for the great Poet translated into 53 world languages ​​...
  6. Aaron Zawi
    Aaron Zawi 3 October 2015 07: 57 New
    11
    I do not regret, do not call, do not cry,
    Everything will pass, like smoke from white apple trees.
    Wilted gold covered,
    I will not be any more young.

    You're not going to fight that much now,
    Heart, touched by the cold,
    And the country of birch chintz
    Do not lure barefoot.

    Spirit is stray! you are less and less
    You stir the flame of lips
    Oh my lost freshness,
    A riot of eyes and flood of feelings.

    I now have become less eager in desires,
    My life? Or did you dream of me?
    Like I'm spring rumbling
    Ran on a pink horse.

    All of us, we are all perishable in this world,
    Quietly pouring copper from maple leaves ...
    Be thou ever blessed,
    What came to flow and die
    .
    My father’s favorite poet. Even now in 86 years he knows him almost by heart. And it seems to me, with shouts and noise, I taught my son to read about Russian so that he could read Lermontov and Yesenin in the original.
    1. Kos_kalinki9
      Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 08: 43 New
      0
      They forgot Pushkin, Tolstoy ........ And in the soul, maybe I'm mistaken, you are Russian. This is not a nationality, this is a vocation. (IMHO)
  7. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 08: 14 New
    +6
    Remember, brothers, the murdered r. B. Sergius!


    "Why is the moon shining so dimly
    To the gardens and walls of Horossan?
    It’s like I walk the Russian plain
    Under the rustling canopy of fog ”-
    So I asked, dear Lala,
    In silent cypress trees at night,
    But their army didn’t say a word,
    To the sky, proudly head high.
    “Why is the moon so shining so sad?” -
    I asked the flowers in a quiet thicket,
    And the flowers said, “You feel
    By sorrow, roses are rustling. ”
    Rose petals splashed
    Petals secretly told me:
    “Your shagane caressed with another,
    Shagane kissed another. "
    She said: "Russian will not notice ...
    A heart is a song, and a song is life and body ... ”
    That’s why the moon shines so dim
    That is why sadly pale.
    Seeing too much cheating
    Tears and anguish, who were waiting for them, who do not want.
    But all blessed forever
    There are lilac nights on the earth.

    Details of the murder of S.A. Yesenin, according to the killer.
    http://esenin.niv.ru/esenin/smert/ya-ubil-esenina.htm
    1. Kos_kalinki9
      Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 08: 36 New
      +6
      Guys sorry that you can put only one plus. Well, I love Yesenin. Our he is. Our. Russian.
      1. Aaron Zawi
        Aaron Zawi 3 October 2015 09: 00 New
        +7
        Quote: Kos_kalinki9
        Guys sorry that you can put only one plus. Well, I love Yesenin. Our he is. Our. Russian.

        Yesenin is a genius. And like a real genius, he is a common heritage.
        1. Kos_kalinki9
          Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 09: 11 New
          +1
          Quote: Aaron Zawi
          Quote: Kos_kalinki9
          Guys sorry that you can put only one plus. Well, I love Yesenin. Our he is. Our. Russian.

          Yesenin is a genius. And like a real genius, he is a common heritage.

          Sorry, I do not agree. He is a Russian genius.
          Rash harmonica, boredom, boredom
          Harmonist fingers pouring in a wave
          Drink with me lousy Soo Ka
          Drink with me!

          you want to say that in another country could write this? He is Russian, Russian.
          1. Aaron Zawi
            Aaron Zawi 3 October 2015 09: 17 New
            +2
            Quote: Kos_kalinki9

            you want to say that in another country could write this? He is Russian, Russian.

            Undoubtedly Russian, to the tips of the nails and at the same time it is as priceless for world culture as Burns and Goethe.
            1. Kos_kalinki9
              Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 09: 29 New
              +4
              Quote: Aaron Zawi
              Quote: Kos_kalinki9

              you want to say that in another country could write this? He is Russian, Russian.

              Undoubtedly Russian, to the tips of the nails and at the same time it is as priceless for world culture as Burns and Goethe.

              Robert Burns
              "Partridge"


              Heather blossomed, and the hay was gathered in stacks.
              From dawn, the guys searched the meadows
              Lowlands, swamps near and far,
              Until, finally, a partridge was found.

              You can’t rush on a hunt, youth,
              Inaudible to prey sneak, youth!
              Who hits her in years
              Who doesn’t let fly
              But it is bad for those who scare prey.
              and you want to say that this is a world heritage?
              мI don’t give a damn about whether S.A. Yesenin is reading or not reading the West (most likely not reading), it is important for me that I read and love him, my children and grandchildren read and love.
              1. Aaron Zawi
                Aaron Zawi 3 October 2015 10: 04 New
                +3
                Quote: Kos_kalinki9
                .
                and you want to say that this is a world heritage?
                мI don’t give a damn about whether S.A. Yesenin is reading or not reading the West (most likely not reading), it is important for me that I read and love him, my children and grandchildren read and love.

                Well, you know, not all poems and genes are equally good. And how do you like it from Burns.
                Love and poverty forever
                I was caught in the net. Love and poverty forever.
                I was caught on the net.
                But poverty doesn’t matter to me either
                Do not be love in the world.
                Why is a breaker fate
                Is love always an obstacle?
                And why love is a slave
                Prosperity and success?

                Wealth, honor after all
                Bring little happiness.
                And I feel sorry for cowards and fools
                That their authorities are submissive.

                Your eyes burn in response
                When I lose my mind
                And on your lips advice
                Keep prudence.

                But how can I store it,
                When are you with me?
                But how can I store it,
                Looking at you?

                Happy is that poor man
                With his simple love
                Who does not envy in any way
                Rich estate.

                Ah why cruel rock -
                Always love hindrance
                And the flower does not bloom love
                Without fame and success?
                But poverty doesn’t matter to me either
                Do not be love in the world.
                Why is a breaker fate
                Is love always an obstacle?
                And why love is a slave
                Prosperity and success?

                Wealth, honor after all
                Bring little happiness.
                And I feel sorry for cowards and fools
                That their authorities are submissive.

                Your eyes burn in response
                When I lose my mind
                And on your lips advice
                Keep prudence.

                But how can I store it,
                When are you with me?
                But how can I store it,
                Looking at you?

                Happy is that poor man
                With his simple love
                Who does not envy in any way
                Rich estate.

                Ah why cruel rock -
                Always love hindrance
                And the flower does not bloom love
                Without fame and success?
                1. Kos_kalinki9
                  Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 10: 20 New
                  +1
                  and you know, great. Do not read. Sorry. The minus is not mine. I am for a constructive dialogue.
                2. The comment was deleted.
                3. The comment was deleted.
                4. Kos_kalinki9
                  Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 11: 17 New
                  0
                  Is this the original? Did you bring the translation of S. Marshak?

                  Love and poverty caught me forever R. Burns


                  People are not birds, they can’t live without money,
                  If you fall in love, then you need a lot of them.

                  ***
                  1
                  Love, like business needs finance,
                  Only birds without money start romances.
                  2
                  Love has no price, like sugar and honey,
                  But without money, love doesn’t live.
                  3
                  Not for the mind, beauty, intelligence and medals,
                  People love the people of those who have suffered for a long time.
                  4
                  In the last love until the end of life to live,
                  After all, there is no strength to start another love.
                  5
                  Nobody can just give anything
                  In love, this rule also applies.
                  6
                  Love contains all the sun and the stars
                  But the neighbor’s tears do not want to see.
                  7
                  In the last love, like everything, like in a madhouse
                  Love is crazy if life is at a break.
                  8
                  Love strikes right into the soul and heart,
                  Only the one that parents did not give in childhood.
                  9
                  Sow, sow love generously, without fuss,
                  The crop of kindness will rise many times.
                  10
                  Love is as old as this light
                  But there is no alternative for love.
                  ***

                  A famous song on this subject. I wrote about her.
            2. Kos_kalinki9
              Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 09: 46 New
              0
              Quote: Aaron Zawi
              Quote: Kos_kalinki9

              you want to say that in another country could write this? He is Russian, Russian.

              Undoubtedly Russian, to the tips of the nails and at the same time it is as priceless for world culture as Burns and Goethe.

              Levitan I Levitan
              Isaac Ilyich [18 (30) .8.1860, Kibartay, now the Vilkavishksky District of the Lithuanian SSR, - 22.7 (4.8) .1900, Moscow], Russian landscape painter. The son of a small railway employee. Since the early 1870s lived in Moscow. He studied at the Moscow School of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture (MUZHVZ; 1873–85) with A. K. Savrasov and V. D. Polenov. Since 1884 an exhibitor, since 1891 a member of the Association of Wanderers (see. Wanderers).

              This is an excerpt from TSB. So who is Levitan, Russian, Jew, Baltic? Who is he?
            3. Kos_kalinki9
              Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 10: 18 New
              0
              Aron. The minus is not mine. I can argue with you, agree, disagree. But I always respect the opinion of the interlocutor. Especially in POETRY.
        2. washi
          washi 3 October 2015 11: 07 New
          0
          Quote: Aaron Zawi
          Quote: Kos_kalinki9
          Guys sorry that you can put only one plus. Well, I love Yesenin. Our he is. Our. Russian.

          Yesenin is a genius. And like a real genius, he is a common heritage.

          Sorry for the stupid question.
          And as a universal human genius, he was translated into Hebrew, and he is taught in Israeli schools
  8. Whowhy
    Whowhy 3 October 2015 08: 21 New
    -5
    "In 1924, Yesenin wrote an amazing series of Persian Motifs."
    And where did he come from - not a word.
    And in general, the article "niochem" is a banal retelling of a biography, and even that is not complete.
    1. Kos_kalinki9
      Kos_kalinki9 3 October 2015 10: 42 New
      +1
      Quote: whowhy
      "In 1924, Yesenin wrote an amazing series of Persian Motifs."
      And where did he come from - not a word.
      And in general, the article "niochem" is a banal retelling of a biography, and even that is not complete.

      Persian motifs. Where from? Yes out of nowhere. Inspired. That's why he is a poet.
  9. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 08: 23 New
    +2
    And here I am again on the road.
    June night hmar.
    Talkative drogues running
    Neither shaky nor roll, as old.
    The road is pretty good
    Plain silent link.
    Moon in gold powder
    Showered far villages.
    Chapels, wells flicker,
    Outskirts and wattle.
    And the heart beats like old
    How beat in the distant days.

    I'm at the mill again ...
    Elnik
    It is strewn with candles of fireflies.
    The old old miller
    Cannot connect two words:
    "Dear! Here is joy! Sergukha!
    Cold, tea? Come on, a chill?
    Yes, bet you soon, old woman,
    On the table is a samovar and a pie.
    Sergun! Gold! Listen!
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
    And you're already an old man over the years ...
    Now I am for a sweet soul
    I’ll give you a present. "
    "Present?"
    "No...
    Just a letter.
    Don’t rush, dove!
    Almost two months in excess
    I’ve dragged him from the post office. "

    I open ... I read ... Of course!
    From where more and wait!
    And the handwriting is so careless
    And the London seal.

    "Are you alive? .. I'm very glad ...
    I, too, are alive like you.
    So often I dream of a fence
    Wicket and your words.
    Now I'm far from you ...
    Now it's April in Russia.
    And a blue cloud
    Covered with birch and spruce.
    Now here when the paper
    I entrust the sadness of my words
    You are with a miller, maybe on a draft
    Eavesdrop grouse.
    I often go to the marina
    And, either for joy, or for fear,
    I look among ships more closely
    On the red Soviet flag.
    Now they have reached strength.
    My road is clear ...
    But you're still sweet to me
    As a motherland and as a spring. "
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    A letter is like a letter.
    For no reason.
    I wouldn’t write such people.

    Still with a sheepskin coat
    I'm going to my barn.
    I'm walking in an overgrown garden
    The face touches the lilac.
    So sweet to my flashing glances
    Absorbed wattle.
    Once upon a time there’s a gate
    I was sixteen years old.
    And the girl in the white cloak
    Told me affectionately: "No!"

    Far dear were! ..
    That image in me has not died out.

    We all loved these years
    But that means
    They loved us too.

    S.A. Yesenin. Excerpt from the poem "Anna Snegina".
    1. Aleksander
      Aleksander 3 October 2015 09: 17 New
      +4
      Recalled my favorite poem written earlier in 1916:

      Singing hewn horns
      Plains and bushes are running.
      Chapels on the road again
      And funeral crosses.

      I am sick again with warm sadness
      From the oat breeze
      And the lime bells
      Involuntarily baptized hand.

      O Rus, raspberry field
      And the blue that fell into the river
      I love to joy and pain
      Your lake melancholy.

      Cold sorrow cannot be measured
      You are on a foggy shore.
      But do not love you, do not believe -
      I can’t learn.

      And I won’t give these chains away
      And I won’t part with a long sleep
      When the native steppes ring
      Prayer of Feather.
    2. The comment was deleted.
  10. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 08: 32 New
    +2
    * * *


    The scarlet light of the dawn was wreathed on the lake.
    Wood grouse with tinkles is mourning.

    Crying somewhere an Oriole, buried in a hollow.
    But I don’t cry - it’s light on my soul.

    I know, you'll come out in the evening for a ring of roads,
    We will sit down in fresh mounds under a nearby haystack.

    I will kiss the dopeya, isomnu, like color,
    Drunk with joy there is no reckoning.

    You yourself under the caresses throw silk veils,
    I'll take the drunk up to the morning in the bushes.

    And let the grouse cry with tones.
    There is a longing merry in the greed of the dawn.

    1910
  11. parusnik
    parusnik 3 October 2015 08: 59 New
    +3
    I will not add lyrics .. But a hit of all times and peoples, the Alpha group, with a song to the verses of Yesenin, Gulyak .. (I’m a mischievous Moscow reveler) .. 1982 the whole country sang ..
    1. Igor39
      Igor39 3 October 2015 09: 12 New
      0
      This is probably the first song on his poems.
      1. Aleksander
        Aleksander 3 October 2015 09: 28 New
        +3
        Quote: Igor39
        This is probably the first song on his poems.


        No, what are you! Yes, you know them well:

        Letter to mother
        The grove dissuaded
        Maple you are my fallen ", etc. They actually became popular.
      2. The comment was deleted.
      3. parusnik
        parusnik 3 October 2015 10: 17 New
        0
        No, VIA "Ariel" album "On the Island of Buyan" .. there are songs on Yesenin’s poems .. There were other performers .. But this song by Gulyak in 1982 in my opinion aroused interest in Yesenin’s poetry ..
    2. Buffalo
      Buffalo 3 October 2015 10: 11 New
      +1
      Yesenin has things better than "Walk"!
      For example, “A Letter to Mother”, “A Golden Grove Dissuaded”, “I Do Not Sorry, I Do Not Call, I Do Not Cry ...".
  12. Nikoha.2010
    Nikoha.2010 3 October 2015 09: 05 New
    +1
    Since my Soviet era, my parents have had (or are standing) a portrait of Yesenin in the room. As a kid, I did not perceive this in any way, except that a young handsome man in the photo. Now looking back, I catch myself thinking that I had not read Esenin before to my beloved woman, but in vain ...
  13. Signaller
    Signaller 3 October 2015 09: 47 New
    +4
    “In America, nobody needs art ... The soul, which in Russia is measured for pounds, is not needed here. In America, the soul is unpleasant, like unbuttoned trousers. ”
    Very accurate words of the poet. This is a rebuke to the Westerners. The soul is all of Russia in it.
    Great poet, poetry, lyrics, just class. I respect you. It's a pity that he lived a little. I traveled to places where Yesenin lived. Meshchera, Konstantinovo is the most beautiful region of Russia. Always admired the nature of the homeland of Yesenin. And now I do not forget to visit such wonderful places.
  14. akudr48
    akudr48 3 October 2015 10: 05 New
    +3
    If the holy war cry:
    “Throw you Russia, live in paradise!”
    I will say: "Do not paradise
    Give my homeland. "

    So wrote Yesenin and so he lived.
  15. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 10: 17 New
    +4
    I remember on the day of the 100th anniversary of the poet’s birth, at the Vagankovsky cemetery, at the grave of Sergei Alexandrovich, admirers of his talent gathered. Many read their favorite poetry there. And it was said publicly that the poet was killed. Blumkin, Erlich and Leontyev were directly related to the killing.
  16. Nikita Gromov
    Nikita Gromov 3 October 2015 10: 48 New
    +1
    The ingenious and truly great Russian poet - sincerity, kindness and empathy for the fate of his people. He is forever in our hearts.
  17. tinibar
    tinibar 3 October 2015 12: 21 New
    +1
    Quote: Tartar 174
    Quote: aszzz888
    I don’t know what relation S. Yesenin has to VO, therefore at least as perplexity.
    Although the poet himself has no complaints.
    After all, he is ours, he is RUSSIAN.

    Yesenin is a part of the soul of the Russian people and therefore has a relation in everything, incl. and in.

    Does patriotism relate to the site ?! If the Holy Army cries out, Throw you Russia, live in Paradise, I will say - do not have Paradise, - Give my Motherland! soldier
  18. rakiuzo
    rakiuzo 3 October 2015 12: 50 New
    +1
    Each line of his poems shines and intoxicates in his own way.
  19. lukke
    lukke 3 October 2015 14: 19 New
    0
    let them know that poets are people who are not lifeless, restless, enemies of marsh prosperity
    plus his thoughts about the Americans and here it is - today's reality)))
  20. foma2028
    foma2028 3 October 2015 14: 32 New
    +1
    I liked the Yesenin series with Bezrukov.
    Bezrukov did a good grasp on Esenin’s character, he can sometimes replay, but on the whole the film looks very worthy.
    One of my favorite films, I often review.
  21. Bijo
    Bijo 3 October 2015 14: 52 New
    +1
    "Not a villain, I didn’t rob the woods, I didn’t shoot the unfortunate people in dungeons, I’m an ordinary street racket - smiling at oncoming faces."
    Above the right eye, it looks like an input bullet. They tortured and then killed, like hundreds of thousands of Russian people in the bloody 20s, but the "bloody" on our TV was only 37, when many executioners got what they deserved. It’s good that we remember Yesenin, thanks to the author for the article, we read, we sing, especially after so many years of slander, “pouring mud,” hanging up the labels of a drunkard and a suicide. "I am the last poet of the village" of his word, prophetic.
  22. Sofia
    Sofia 3 October 2015 16: 31 New
    0
    Thanks to the author. and to everyone who wrote verses in the comments. I read everything without stopping ...
  23. Aleksys2
    Aleksys2 3 October 2015 18: 07 New
    0
    Sergei Bezrukov reads Yesenin’s poems.
  24. dmb
    dmb 3 October 2015 19: 54 New
    0
    In general, a good article about the great Russian poet. All the more surprising are the mistakes. It is difficult to say from what future the author enrolled Krylenko to the Chekists. Apparently, this was done so that "major specialists" in the field of forensic medicine from among the commentators became even more entrenched in the version of the next Chekist crime. Along with the autumn exacerbation, this mention played its evil role. This is especially amusing if you consider that by the time of the suicide of the poet (literally before that he had lain with depression in an asylum), the Cheka for three years has already sunk into oblivion.
    1. Buffalo
      Buffalo 9 October 2015 23: 59 New
      0
      Have you ever been depressed with depression?
      Learn the story. Yesenin was hiding in the clinic where his friends had placed him, from Blyumkin, whom Trotsky had instructed him to remove. Yesenin was also persecuted in the case of “anti-Semitism”, although, according to the poet himself: What anti-Semite am I ?! I have Jewish children. "
      The theme of the Black Man, Blyumkin, takes place in the works of the poet.
      Excerpt from "Country of villains"
      Chekistov

      Ha-ha!
      Did you call me a Jew?
      No, Zamarashkin!
      I am a citizen from Weimar
      And he came here not as a Jew,
      And as possessing a gift
      Tame fools and animals.
      I swear and I will persevere
      Curse you for at least a thousand years,
      Because…
      Because I want to go to the restroom
      But there are no restrooms in Russia.
      You are strange and funny people!
      They lived all their life for the poor
      And they built the temples of God ...
      Yes, I would have used them a long time ago
      Rebuilt latrines into places.

      Yesenin tried to hide from Baku.
      http://esenin.niv.ru/esenin/text/chernyj-chelovek.htm
  25. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 23: 45 New
    0
    “Do not wander, crumple in crimson bushes ...” Sergey Yesenin

    Do not wander, do not knead in the bushes crimson
    Quinoa and do not look for a trace.
    With a sheaf of your hair oat
    You drove me forever.

    With scarlet berry juice on the skin,
    Gentle, beautiful, was
    You look pink at sunset
    And, like snow, radiant and light.

    The grains of your eyes showered, wilted,
    Thin name melted like a sound
    But remained in the folds of crumpled shawls
    The smell of honey from innocent hands.

    At the quiet hour, when the dawn is on the roof,
    Like a kitten, washes a mouth,
    Mild talk about you i hear
    Water singing with the wind honeycomb.

    Let me occasionally whisper a blue evening
    What was you song and dream
    Well, who invented your flexible camp and shoulders -
    I attached a mouth to the bright secret.

    Do not wander, do not knead in the bushes crimson
    Quinoa and do not look for a trace.
    With a sheaf of your hair oat
    You drove me forever.
  26. Buffalo
    Buffalo 3 October 2015 23: 47 New
    0
    DOG KACHALOVA

    Give, Jim, for luck paw me,
    I have never seen such a paw.
    Let's get on with you with the moon
    On a quiet, noiseless weather.
    Give, Jim, luckily paw me.

    Please, my dear, do not lick.
    Understand with me though the most simple.
    After all, you do not know what life is,
    You do not know what to live in the world.

    Your master is nice and famous,
    And he has a lot of guests in the house,
    And everyone, smiling, strives
    You touch the velvet wool.

    You are a dog-like devilishly handsome,
    With such a sweet trusting sympathy.
    And, not a single one without asking,
    As a drunk friend, you try to kiss.

    My dear Jim, among your guests
    There were so many of them and there were not any of them.
    But the one that is all more silent and sadder,
    Did she come here by chance?

    She will come, I give you bail.
    And without me, in her staring eyes,
    You are licking her gently for me
    For everything that was and was not to blame.

    1925
  27. Buffalo
    Buffalo 10 October 2015 00: 18 New
    0
    Message to the Evangelist Demian [1]


    I often think, why was He executed?
    Why did He sacrifice His head?
    For the fact that, the enemy of the Sabbaths, He is against all rot
    Bravely raised his voice?

    Is it because there is a proconsul of Pilate in the country,
    Where the cult of Caesar is full of light and shadow,
    He with a bunch of fishermen from poor villages
    For Caesar recognized only the power of gold?

    Is it because you divided yourself into parts,
    He was merciful and sensitive to everyone’s grief
    And blessed all, painfully loving,
    And the elderly, and wives, and tiny babies? [2]

    Demian, in your Gospel
    I did not find a true answer.
    It has a lot of brisk words, oh how many of them are in it,
    But words are not a worthy poet.

    I'm not one of those who recognize priests,
    Who unaccountably believes in God
    Who is ready to break his forehead,
    Praying at every church doorstep.

    I do not like the religion of a slave,
    Submissive from century to century,
    And I have faith in wonderful words -
    I believe in the knowledge and power of Man.

    I know that striving on the right path,
    Here on earth, not parting with the body,
    Not us, so somebody else must come
    To truly divine limits.

    And yet, when I read in Pravda
    The truth about Christ the lascivious Demian -
    I felt ashamed that I was
    Into vomit, spewed intoxicated.

    May Buddha, Moses, Confucius and Christ
    A distant myth - we understand this, -
    But still you can’t, like a year old dog,
    Barking at everything and everyone.

    Christ - the Son of the carpenter - was once executed ...
    Let it be a myth, but still, when a passerby
    He asked him: “Who are you?” - He answered him:
    “Son of man,” but did not say, “Son of God.”

    May the myth of Christ, as Socrates be the myth,
    And maybe everything is taken from fiction -
    So now with anger in a row
    Spit on everything that is holy in man?

    You experienced, Demyan, just one arrest -
    And then you whine: “Ah, I got a cruel cross.”
    And what would happen when the cross fell to you Golgotha
    Or a bowl of caustic tsikutoy?

    If you had greatness to the end
    In the last hour, following their example, too,
    Bless the whole world under the crown of thorns
    Teaching immortality on the deathbed?

    No, you, Demian, did not offend Christ,
    You didn’t touch Him with your pen -
    The robber was, Judah was -
    You just lacked!

    You are a blood clot at the cross
    I dug my nostril like a fat hog,
    You just grunted at Christ
    Efim Lakeevich Pridvorov! [3]

    You committed a double grave sin
    With your cheap boogie nonsense
    You insulted the poets free workshop
    And his small talent covered with great shame.

    After all, there abroad, reading your poems,
    Probably gloating Russian clicks:
    "Another plate of demyan fish soup,
    Neighbor, my light, have a bite. ”

    And a Russian peasant reading "Poor"
    Where the "exemplary" work was printed in a doublet,
    Reaching even harder for Christ
    And mate will send communism at the same time [4].

    <April-May 1925>

    For this poem alone, written in response to the libel of the courtier Pridvorov (Demyan Poor), printed in Pravda,
    could kill Yesenin.