What have to be the relations of the tsar and the poet?
Pushkin and Nikolay the First. Yuz Oleshkovsky and Stalin. Shevchuk and Putin.
As a rule, vsederzhavny governors, except for perhaps Nerona, were not able to write verses. But very much loved when compose about them. Here the poet Felix Chuyev wrote about Stalin. The poem long ago forgotten, but curious, in my opinion.
“Already ambassadors live in the back deep, Already in Moscow people`s commissars not to see
I armor-clad armies of von Boka
continue to attack Khimki.
Solve in a staff of the Western front - to Deliver to
a staff to the east of Moscow,
I the sun Burns with a wound of the Russian people
among autumn blue...
Already in Moscow responsible persons
do not understand only one:
When Itself will leave the capital -
But how to ask about it?
Yes, how to ask? The question is extremely important,
Such that you will not postpone for later:
- When to send a regiment of protection of your
To Kuibyshev? The structure is already ready.
Shivered glasses in a roar air,
Sparkled in Aleksandrovsk to a garden...
Told quietly: - If it is necessary, this regiment in attack I will lead
Poets (not poets, but Poets) tried to teach autocrats all the time. Also wanted, according to the ancestor of a genre Alexander Sergeyevich:
“… To sing of Freedom to the world, to strike with
On thrones defect“.
The power in their understanding was always guilty owing to the fact that it is autocratic.
“Alas! where I will throw a look -
Everywhere scourges, everywhere glands,
of Laws a disastrous shame,
of Bondage ailing tears“
I the only recipe was:
You, your throne I hate, your death, death of children
With cruel pleasure I see
A. S`s ode. Pushkina “Liberty“
Sometimes poets were deceived in the relations with autocrats:
“Companion Stalin, you the big scientist -
In sciences you learned the highest sense.
A I am a simple Soviet prisoner,
I my companion - a gray Bryansk wolf.
For what I sit, on conscience, I do not know,
But prosecutors, as always, are right,
I I here sit in the Turukhansky region,
Where at the tsar you sat in exile.
And, “We so to you trusted
, companion Stalin,
As, maybe, did not trust themselves“.
But life quickly sorted things out:
“We cut the wood, and Stalin chips,
As earlier, fly to our heads“.
Yuz Oleshkovsky “Companion Stalin“.
Presently the Power already just does not recognize the poet:
“V. Putin: And what is your name, excuse?
Yu. Shevchuk: Yura Shevchuk, the musician“
From the shorthand report of a meeting the Prime minister - the minister with the St. Petersburg intellectuals.
And for certain listened earlier and somewhere in soul approved:
“Black headlights at the next gate,
Hatches, handcuffs, the torn mouth.
How many times, having swept, my head
From the crowded executioner`s block flew here where
I Go home,
Let shout - the ugly creature,
A it is pleasant to us,
Though not the beauty,
To the swine is trustful,
Well, and to us - a Torah - la - la - la...
, how many the truth in the opinion of the state whores!
, how many belief in hands of retired executioners!
You do not allow them to roll up sleeves again,
You do not allow them to roll up again sleeves“ …
Yu. Shevchuk “Homeland“