Rus Articles Journal

How to find Lyukinsky Lane in the city of poetry?

Today`s story in Anthologies of domestic poetry it will be devoted to the person who was very well known and remember in Nizhny Novgorod. Here he without exaggeration is called the biggest poet of Volga, memory of it is immortalized in names of streets in Moskovsky district of Nizhny Novgorod and in the city of Knyaginino, in the homeland of the poet. Three libraries - in Sormovo, Knyaginino and Moskovsky district - bear his name. Memory of Alexander Ivanovich Lyukin is maintained also traditional lyukinsky readings annually taking place in the Nizhny Novgorod office of the Russian Writers` Union, in Knyagininsky and Moscow districts.

In something it is even compared to Pushkin, I also, am guilty, was struck with simple, but such sincere and easy words of his poem Parents :

Forces on a mowing

Having exhausted completely,

On an abrupt slope

Had a rest the father.

On his

shirt salt,

Stiffened Yellow camomiles

Healed pain.

Also there was healthy

my native man,

I ringed again:

Vzhik, vzhik, vzhik .

And when it is cruel to be tired

to it Again,

With kvass from far away of

mother Came.

Served bread,

to Onions for the mower,

the Jacket rubbed off

the Neck at the father.

And together mowed:

Vzhik, vzhik, vzhik .

So they also lived -

the Woman yes the man.

And in the entertainments

In an hour

before evening On honey herbs

Conceived us.
the Destiny of any poet is always interesting to

. When and as appears press, fatal on it? Who puts it? Who brands the person who is fated to be distinguished from others? What is a push, the cause in order that words developed in rhymes, excited others? Where that measure which scoops talent? Why the most difficult not to write verses, not to publish the collection, and to make so that they lived, remained in souls of people?

We will take the same Lyukin`s reflections:

Poetry essence: to Tell

in the words

About all what was seen, to Make laugh with

,

That was more cheerful,

to Slightly open

Fine

in ordinary -

is an essence of my poetry,

I still

(Wait a moment to bow)

Is words,

That the plait is stronger than fire.

That`s all.

A who will get that,

does not depend on me.
Alexander Ivanovich was born

on March 29 in the village of Shkoverka of Knyagininsky district of Gorky area in the peasant`s family. Years it was allocated to 12 nothing from peers, studied as everything, however, in the fifth class of the beginnings to scribble verses . What they were? Whether cheerful? Sad? We hardly learn about it because Alexander published the first poem later nearly a quarter of the century, after war, in 1949. Before wrote, as they say, for himself, hesitating to show them to someone.

It and in general on life was very constraining

did not take offense seriously,

did not rejoice to tears,

of Little girls absolutely

did not love,

of the Enemy did not beat,

Shivered,

As in an underground a mouse,

A lived still, speak!

Or here one more poem which underlines a sincere spirit of the young poet who by then, after the termination of a semiletka in 1936 moved in Bitter, to the well-known working area Sormovo and arrived on Sormovsky plant the mechanic.

I was not able to love,

was not able.

reddened,

grew white as chalk.

Before that,

As I love to tell,

Ya for some reason closed eyes,

A when wanted to kiss,

Unexpectedly sweated.

Also you left,

A I roared. I was not able to love

,

Not was able

A farther. The soldier Alexander Lyukin arrived to the front on December 5, 1942 as he remembered then with self-irony: There was a strong wish to cause a stir, but the destiny had not a kind feeling to me. It exhausted me everyday front work and big campaigns. Mined, cleared of mines, built blindages on a front line, was under aim fire .

Today, with 63 - summer post-war height, sometimes it seems to us that the one who had a gold asterisk was a hero then only or, at the worst, three - four awards. But somehow it is not thought of everyday front work

B 1944 Lyukin came to the Arzamas mortar school and when ended it, war already came to the end. To risk young lieutenants in 1945 - the m as it was in 1941 - m and 1942 - m, did not want any more.

Of course, it is unlikely the poet Lyukin would become poet Lyukin if to his gift, talent destiny not podmastila surprising people. One of them - Neil Grigoryevich Biryukov to whom the beginning poet Lyukin brought the verses. Thought that Biryukov will begin to praise it supposedly same it is necessary, from the machine and such poet!

But Neil Grigoryevich began conversation on another:

- All this trenkanye in which hundreds are engaged... It seems to them, time the newspaper published the poem, means - I am a poet... Well and let it seems... You only do not hurry to go their road... You look for the lane in the city of poetry. Lyukinsky... You understand: the lane, but - the! Here in To the Beauty I hear your voice. Yours!

There was jealously behind it it

of Doglyadyvat in different chinks,

Forbade to joke it

I to laugh to the wife young...

I did not become beauties

In our become silent settlement,

Only one more woman,

of Sutulyas, passes with water.

And whether there is a lot of at us, presently, such wise poets? Unfortunately, next to nothing. The others bathe in beams of admiration and imitation of the young people beginning in something even crippling them smother, encouraging a melkotemya, rough rhymes, continuous stretches

Three books of Alexander Lyukin - Life Concern and Destiny it is possible to put safely in one row with the best lyrics of Yesenin, with national verses Pushkina. And not incidentally still during lifetime, which, by the way, was, short, Lyukin was christened Sormovsky nightingale

I cannot but give his reflection about military years:

War went on me

Not the party.

Ya lived

One breath with the country.

I under direct

Got aiming,

the bullet

From the head Broke a garrison cap,

I the tank ironed

Earth over me.

And I - live.

Rose from - under lands,

Shook off,

went to attack Again.

In gaps,

In a roar,

In dust,

Evil and hungry

As a dog.

With the soul,

Made white-hot of

Ya went,

A conducted hatred.

At that time

Destitute by war,

Ya lived

One breath with the country.
is present

In these poetic lines nothing superfluous. Everything is verified, as on thin pharmaceutical scales of destiny.

Alexander Ivanovich Lyukin did not become forty years ago, in 1968. And it lyukinsky readings are carried out annually.

Collected everything yes put

I did not hang up the lock. I distribute

A now, Take away

who hurries!

All riches to devils - to

After line the line

are Distributed by me,

A new is saved.

Also do not cry you the wife,

I be not angry you the wife,

do not grieve in vain,

my confused!

Take away me,

Plunder me,

to you all freshness

my spring
These lines are written to

several months prior to death