Which of poets was born in one day with Lenin Komsomol?
on October 29, 1918, 90 years ago, in that day when the Communistic union of youth was formed, in far from two Russian capitals of Astrakhan, in a family of the employee of mail Kuzma Lukonin the son who was named Mikhail was born. We will also talk today about it within the " project; Anthology of domestic poetry “ …
The destiny from the very beginning not really - that had a kind feeling to the boy. When he was 2,5 years old, suddenly ached with typhus and the father died. Mother with children (Mikhail was younger) could live only at the parents in the village of Bykova Hutor near Tsaritsyno (later - Stalingrad). And survived …
B 1930 the young woman with children moves to Stalingrad where Mischa arrived practically at once in fabrichno - factory school, to study as the mechanic further to cast in the lot with Stalingrad tractor plant. But in the seventh class it suddenly opens for itself(himself) literary circle which willingly visits. Then at Mischa the first poetic lines are born.
the First literary collection in which Lukonin participated left that year when to it 16 were executed (!) . It was called “ Voices of young people “ but Mishin a voice appeared “ loudest “ its verses were noted by both readers, and critics. But it is not necessary to think that future professional poet was fond only of a writing of poetry in the " newspaper; You Give a tractor! “ - factory newspaper of Stalingrad tractor plant. In addition it still played for a soccer team of plant, and it is worth a lot, at plant thousands of young guys worked.
But, of course, not for soccer he was invited to cooperate at once two Stalingrad newspapers - “ Young Leninist “ and “ Stalingrad truth “. At the beginning of 1936 17 - the summer poet headed literary part “ Young Leninist “ that was for those times regarded as a phenomenon. And in 1938 Mikhail has the first independent collection - “ Running start “. According to venerable writers it was fine running start!
This book did not remain unnoticed and in Moscow. Exactly from there to the student of Stalingrad teacher training college the invitation to enter the Literary institute of Gorky arrived. Mikhail went to the capital together with the bosom friend Nikolay Otrada who promised to grow up in the good poet too. It did not turn out … And not Colin in wine volume. When military operations in the north, with Finland began, both friends volunteers left on war on which Nikolay died on March 4, 1940. And Mikhail returned, and the first five poems published in the " magazine; Banner “ right after return from war, he considered as the real beginning of the poetry since then.
I everything would forbid to sigh, having squeezed
of the Lip - live!
it is impossible to Cry! I will not allow
presence badly of
to Speak of life For which
War forced to reconsider Lukonin the outlook on life. Many of its verses, already written, seemed to the poet on - youthfully naive, small, perhaps? From the Finnish war it returned tempered, and, above all - better known life …
But a peace respite lasted very not for long. Other war, much more terrible - with Hitlerite fascism came. Very few people know, but almost all students of Literary institute of Gorky in June, 1941 wrote the application: “ I Ask to consider me as the volunteer! “. Though, probably, Mikhail could remain in Moscow, his spouse in June, 1941 was already pregnant with their son who will be born on January 8, 1942.
Mikhail made other choice. Together with the new friend Sergey Narovchatov it appeared at the front. “ I remember terrible roads of retreat - we passed them with Mikhail Lukonin, leaving an environment the Bryansk woods and the Oryol fields in 1941 “ - Narovchatov remembered later.
Severe truth of war. It can be expressed not only in prose as Vasili Grossman or other writers - veterans did, but also in poetry. Here, for example, one of the brightest poems of Mikhail Lukonin:
Hospital. In total in white.
of the Wall smell of dampish chalk.
Having swaddled us hardly in blankets
I having bantered at how we are small,
Having bent down, water on a floor the Sister drove
… And we looked at floors,
I to us in eyes the blue,
Ringing with diffuse edges flew.
Water, floors … The head was turned.
of the Word were turned:
“ Friend, what now?
Saturday? Here I do not see twenty days “.
the Floor blue in water, and air dymchat. - Listen to
, the friend …
I all about it, about it.
Bore a lunch. From spoons we were fed.
Envies the tankman
I which went blind to me says how twenty days
do not see. And - about it, about it, about it.
- And here the sister. You letters dictate
- It will not be able, the friend,
here complexity is.
- What complexity!
You do not think of it …
- Here you would undertake?
- hands is?!
- I cannot!
- You will be able!
- I do not know Words!
- I will pledge words …
- I did not love … - Love
Ya took a feather. he told
A: - Native!
Ya wrote down.
It: - Think that it is killed.
“ I Live! “ - I wrote down.
It: - “ It is not necessary to Wait! “.
A I, at the truth of all on a string,
Drove a feather: “ Wait, my award … “.
It: “ I will not return … “.
A I: “ I Will come! I will come! “.
Went letters from it. He sang and cried,
held the Letter at the brightened-up eyes.
me was asked Now by all chamber:
- Write! - my refusal could offend them.
- But you will manage, left!
- But you see!
Hospital. In total in white.
of the Wall smell of dampish chalk.
Where all this? Sound, not a soul …
A I? And I have no right to be silent any more.
Charged to me, burn words.
- Write! - they dictate to me.
Flies a line.
- Write about us! Blow!
- I cannot …
- You will be able …
- I do not know Words …
- I will pledge words! You only love life!
It is the poem it is written after war, in 1947. But very few people know that Lukonin, as they say, climbed in the scorching heat, he wanted to revenge fascists for mother who died in 1942 - m when fascists bombed Stalingrad. But he learned about it not at once. And moreover, for many years Lukonin could not find a grave of people close to it - the father and mother.
Day by day I think of you -
of my cradle, my destiny -
to the Woman who grew up me...
Mother if you forgive me to
Heart mother`s, is solved:
Ya I will kiss you one, Heart I will listen to
, I will embrace, I will wipe
of the Tear, I will face … to
Before leaving on war. These verses are written by
to mother …
A Mikhail Lukonin such lines summed up the result of war:
Four years of life - year after year, to
are Four years of death - day after day
for the sake of the world to all terrestrial people
Ran, are surrounded with fire.
Everything that was made, - is memorable and sacred.
will be near, endlessly, Forever -
the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
I happiness of the won fighter.
Eight lines, and what capacious …
First post-war collection “ Heartbeat “ then poem “ Working day “ for which the State award, other poetic collections is appropriated to it. But I at each poet try to find “ litmus piece of paper “ poetry - its attitude towards the woman, towards darling.
The power of its
is not studied,
is considerably underestimated,
meanwhile in any case -
is omnipotent over us
to us our domination given from the birth,
Took roots false
the Woman -
the phenomenon unusual.
This simple truth
not to everyone opens.
and is mysterious
the woman smiles.
We come, trouble are noted,
by feats unknown,
all of us equally for the woman
in children remain small.
At take-off and at crashes,
on all our games noisy
are watched, giving the application,
of the Woman -
Is argued or quarrels,
is loved or works,
will be forgotten or will be remembered -
the woman it is necessary to obey. She will endow
mocks at doubts.
Heals hands gentle
is Taught by her. Brings up...
tests Then for a gap
. the Woman should be obeyed
! To write such lines, it is necessary to be born the poet?!
I cannot but give also lyrical verses of Mikhail Lukonin. Its feelings in the war did not coarsen. He was able to notice thin hyphens of life.
Snow falls, laps,
curls at the window leaf,
In white grain seem -
of a point,
of a hyphen.
Fall down on trees,
on the herbs still rustling of
of a snowflake!
At first is not trusted,
as though not the presents.
Is lost summer - where it? everything is whitewashed by Nanovo`s
Is solar and snow-covered -
at once -
and is green.
A there, for Tbilisi,
is blizzed by
over eucalyptuses zyably.
Catch whitish kruzhevets,
having cheered up, apple-trees.
Lies a whiteness dawn.
Under snow grow warm winter crop.
Breathes the earth,
Mikhail Lukonin was very authoritative poet. Not without reason he was elected the secretary of Board of the Writers` Union of the USSR in 1971. He still managed to meet 30 - the anniversary of the Great Victory. And in several months after the following May victorious salute of Mikhail Kuzmich did not become - a heart attack. But there were its verses, the museum, and also the street in modern Volgograd which bears his name …