Poem “Winter Morning” by A.S. Pushkin was written by him during one of the most fruitful creative periods - during his exile in Mikhailovskoye. But on the day when this poetic work was born, the poet was not on his estate - he was visiting friends, the Wulf family, in the Tver province. When starting to read the poem “Winter Morning” by Pushkin, it is worth remembering that it was written in one day, and not a single edit was made to the text. One can only marvel at the talent of the creator, who was able to so quickly embody his own mood, the beauty of Russian nature, and reflections on life in magnificent landscape lyrics. This work is rightfully one of the most famous in Pushkin’s work.
Several important themes are clearly visible in the poem “Winter Morning”. The main and most obvious is the theme of love. In each line one can feel the poet’s tenderness addressed to his beloved, one can feel his reverent attitude towards her, the inspiration that gives him the feeling. His beloved is a lovely child of nature, and this is sweet to him and causes deep heartfelt emotions. Another topic is reflections on the birth of a new day, which erases all previous sorrows and makes the world more beautiful and more fun. Despite the fact that the evening was sad, today the sun illuminates everything around, and its light gives the most important thing - hope. In addition, Alexander Sergeevich uses the landscape not just as an artistic device to personify his own thoughts and not only as a symbol of a new beginning - the beautiful Russian nature is also the theme of his poem, which can be downloaded to slowly enjoy each line. And finally, the general idea of the entire work is the unity of man and nature in the general philosophical sense.
The general mood that can be felt in the text of Pushkin’s poem “Winter Morning,” which can be read online for free to feel the joy of life, is optimistic, because it tells that any storm is not eternal, and after it, when a bright streak comes, life is still more wonderful. Even the stanzas that talk about evening sadness seem to be full of joyful anticipation of the morning. And when it comes, the joy becomes complete, because everything around, every snowflake illuminated by the winter sun, is so beautiful! This is a cheerful and cheerful work - it seems that the poet forgot both about exile and loneliness, admiring his sleeping beloved and native nature. Reading this poem fills the soul with positive emotions, reminds us of how beautiful the world is and how important it is to love our native nature.
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
Poems by A.S. Pushkin about winter - an excellent way to look at snowy and cold weather with different eyes, to see in it the beauty that gray everyday life and dirty streets hide from us. It was not for nothing that they said that nature has no bad weather.
Painting by Viktor Grigorievich Tsyplakov “Frost and Sun”
WINTER MORNING
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Harness the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
Painting by Alexey Savrasov "Courtyard. Winter"
WINTER EVENING
The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
Then, like a beast, she will howl,
Then he will cry like a child,
Then on the dilapidated roof
Suddenly the straw will rustle,
The way a belated traveler
There will be a knock on our window.
Our ramshackle shack
And sad and dark.
What are you doing, my old lady?
Silent at the window?
Or howling storms
You, my friend, are tired,
Or dozing under the buzzing
Your spindle?
Let's have a drink, good friend
My poor youth
Let's drink from grief; where is the mug?
The heart will be happier.
Sing me a song like a tit
She lived quietly across the sea;
Sing me a song like a maiden
I went to get water in the morning.
The storm covers the sky with darkness,
Whirling snow whirlwinds;
Then, like a beast, she will howl,
She will cry like a child.
Let's have a drink, good friend
My poor youth
Let's drink from grief: where is the mug?
The heart will be happier.
Painting by Alexey Savrasov "Winter Road"
Here is the north, the clouds are catching up... Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,He breathed, howled - and here she is
The winter sorceress is coming,
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees,
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields around the hills.
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
The frost has flashed, and we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.
Painting by Gustav Courbet "The Outskirts of a Village in Winter"
WINTER!... PEASANT TRIUMPHANT... (Excerpt from the poem "Eugene Onegin")Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,On the firewood he renews the path;
His horse smells the snow,
Trotting along somehow;
Fluffy reins exploding,
The daring carriage flies;
The coachman sits on the beam
In a sheepskin coat and a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Having planted a bug in the sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The naughty man has already frozen his finger:
It's both painful and funny to him,
And his mother threatens him through the window.
Painting by Isaac Brodsky "Winter"
WINTER ROADThrough the wavy mists
The moon creeps in
To the sad meadows
She sheds a sad light.
On the winter, boring road
Three greyhounds are running,
Single bell
It rattles tiresomely.
Something sounds familiar
In the coachman's long songs:
That reckless revelry
That's heartbreak...
Painting by Nikolai Krymov "Winter Evening"
IT WAS AUTUMN WEATHER THAT YEAR
That year the weather was autumn
She stood in the yard for a long time.
Winter was waiting, nature was waiting,
Snow only fell in January
On the third night. Waking up early
Tatiana saw in the window
In the morning the yard turned white,
Curtains, roofs and fences,
There are light patterns on the glass,
Trees in winter silver,
Forty merry ones in the yard
And softly carpeted mountains
Winter is a brilliant carpet.
Everything is bright, everything sparkles all around.
Painting by Arkady Plastov "First Snow"
WHAT A NIGHT! CRACKING FROST
What a night! Frost is bitter,
There is not a single cloud in the sky;
Like an embroidered canopy, a blue vault
Replete with frequent stars.
Everything in the houses is dark. At the gate
Locks with heavy locks.
People are buried everywhere;
Both the noise and the shout of the trade died down;
As soon as the yard guard barks
Yes, the chain rattles loudly.
And all of Moscow is sleeping peacefully...
Konstantin Yuon "End of Winter. Midday"
Frost and sun; wonderful day! You are still dozing, lovely friend - It’s time, beauty, wake up: Open your eyes closed with bliss Towards the northern Aurora, Appear as the Star of the North! In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry, there was darkness in the cloudy sky; The moon, like a pale spot, turned yellow through the gloomy clouds, And you sat sad - And now... look out the window: Under the blue skies With magnificent carpets, Glistening in the sun, the snow lies; The transparent forest alone turns black, And the spruce turns green through the frost, And the river glitters under the ice. The whole room is illuminated with an amber shine. The flooded stove crackles with a cheerful sound. It's nice to think by the bed. But you know: shouldn’t we tell the brown filly to be banned from the sled? Sliding through the morning snow, dear friend, let us indulge in the running of the impatient horse and visit the empty fields, the forests that were recently so dense, and the shore, dear to me.
“Winter Morning” is one of Pushkin’s brightest and most joyful works. The poem is written in iambic tetrameter, which Pushkin resorted to quite often in those cases when he wanted to give his poems special sophistication and lightness.
From the first lines, the duet of frost and sun creates an unusually festive and optimistic mood. To enhance the effect, the poet builds his work on contrast, mentioning that just yesterday “the blizzard was angry” and “darkness rushed across the cloudy sky.” Perhaps each of us is very familiar with such metamorphoses, when in the midst of winter endless snowfalls are replaced by a sunny and clear morning filled with silence and inexplicable beauty.
On days like these, it’s simply a sin to sit at home, no matter how comfortably the fire crackles in the fireplace. Especially if outside the window there are amazingly beautiful landscapes - a river glistening under the ice, forests and meadows dusted with snow, which resemble a snow-white blanket woven by someone’s skillful hand.
Each line of the verse is literally permeated with freshness and purity, as well as admiration and admiration for the beauty of his native land, which never ceases to amaze the poet at any time of the year. There is no pretentiousness or restraint in the verse, but at the same time, each line is imbued with warmth, grace and harmony. In addition, simple joys in the form of a sleigh ride bring true happiness and help to fully experience the greatness of Russian nature, changeable, luxurious and unpredictable. Even in the contrasting description of bad weather, which is intended to emphasize the freshness and brightness of a sunny winter morning, there is no usual concentration of colors: a snow storm is presented as a fleeting phenomenon that is not able to darken the expectations of a new day filled with majestic calm.
At the same time, the author himself never ceases to be amazed at such dramatic changes that occurred in just one night. It’s as if nature itself acted as a tamer of an insidious blizzard, forcing her to change her anger to mercy and, thereby, giving people an amazingly beautiful morning, filled with frosty freshness, the creaking of fluffy snow, the ringing silence of silent snowy plains and the charm of the sun’s rays shimmering with all colors rainbows in frosty window patterns.
The poem “Winter Morning” was written by Alexander Sergeevich on November 3, 1829 in one day.
It was a difficult period in the poet's life. About six months earlier, he wooed Natalya Goncharova, but was refused, which, according to Pushkin, drove him crazy. In an effort to somehow escape from unpleasant experiences, the poet chose one of the most reckless ways - to go to the active army, to the Caucasus, where there was a war with Turkey.
After staying there for several months, the rejected groom decides to return and ask for Natalya’s hand in marriage again. On his way home, he visits his friends, the Wulf family, in the village of Pavlovskoye, Tula province, where this work is created.
In terms of its genre, the poem “Frost and Sun, a Wonderful Day...” refers to landscape lyricism, the artistic style is romanticism. It is written in iambic tetrameter, the poet’s favorite meter. It showed Pushkin’s high professionalism - few authors can beautifully write six-line stanzas.
Despite the apparent linearity of the poem, it is not only about the beauty of a winter morning. It bears the imprint of the author’s personal tragedy. This is shown in the second stanza - yesterday’s storm echoes the poet’s mood after the refusal of matchmaking. But further, using the example of magnificent morning landscapes, Pushkin’s optimism and belief that he can win the hand of his beloved are revealed.
And so it happened - in May of the following year, the Goncharov family approved Natalya’s marriage to Pushkin.
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Frost and sun; wonderful day!
You are still dozing, dear friend -
It's time, beauty, wake up:
Open your closed eyes
Towards northern Aurora,
Be the star of the north!
In the evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
There was darkness in the cloudy sky;
The moon is like a pale spot
Through the dark clouds it turned yellow,
And you sat sad -
And now... look out the window:
Under blue skies
Magnificent carpets,
Glistening in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river glitters under the ice.
The whole room has an amber shine
Illuminated. Cheerful crackling
The flooded stove crackles.
It's nice to think by the bed.
But you know: shouldn’t I tell you to get into the sleigh?
Ban the brown filly?
Sliding on the morning snow,
Dear friend, let's indulge in running
impatient horse
And we'll visit the empty fields,
The forests, recently so dense,
And the shore, dear to me.
Fear is your best friend and your worst enemy. It's like fire. You control the fire - and you can cook with it. You lose control over it, and it will burn everything around and kill you.
Until you yourself have learned to raise the sun into the heavens every morning, until you know where to direct lightning or how to create a hippopotamus, do not presume to judge how God rules the world - be silent and listen.
A person, in any guise,
Everyone dreams of finding a place in the sun.
And having enjoyed the light and warmth,
He begins to look for sunspots.
One fine day you will come to your place, take that same wine, but it doesn’t taste good, it’s uncomfortable to sit and you’re a completely different person.
Smile when there are clouds in the sky.
Smile when there is bad weather in your soul.
Smile and you will immediately feel better.
Smile, because you are someone’s happiness!
And a new day is like a clean leaf,
You decide for yourself: what, where, when...
Start it with good thoughts, friend,
And then everything will work out in life!
Let's just be. No promises needed. Don't expect the impossible. You will be with me, and I will be with you. Let's just have each other. Silently. Quiet. And for real!!!
When your face is cold and bored,
When you live in irritation and argument,
You don't even know what a torment you are
And you don’t even know how sad you are.When are you kinder than the blue in the sky,
And in the heart there is light, and love, and participation,
You don't even know what song you are
And you don’t even know how lucky you are!
I can sit by the window for hours and watch the snow fall. The best thing is to look through the thick snow at a light, such as a street lamp. Or leave the house so that the snow falls on you. This is it, a miracle. This cannot be created by human hands.
