Yesenin's philosophical lyrics are very complex and multifaceted. On different stages In his creative work, the poet was interested in various issues and problems. His lyrical hero appears before us in the image of either a bully and a tomboy, or a deeply lyrical poet.

Yesenin was always interested in the theme of the Fatherland, he small homeland and your destiny. For the poet, his own destiny has always been closely connected with life native land. Therefore, very often in his philosophical poems Yesenin uses the technique of syntactic parallelism, where he compares his fate with various states of nature. Thus, in the poem “The Golden Grove Dissuaded,” the hero’s reflections on his bygone youth are closely intertwined with what is happening in nature:

I stand alone among the naked plain,

And the wind carries the cranes into the distance,

I'm full of thoughts about my cheerful youth,

But I don’t regret anything in the past...

Lyrical hero turns to his past and is overcome by sadness for the past time. However, the hero does not experience a feeling of disappointment, he has no desire to turn back time, change what was:

I don't feel sorry for the years wasted in vain,

I don’t feel sorry for the soul of the lilac blossom.

There is a fire of red rowan burning in the garden,

But he can't warm anyone.

A work of philosophical content, containing universal human and general historical ideas, is the poem “I do not regret, I do not call, I do not cry.” The theme of the variability of time and the problem of transformation of the human soul is fully revealed here:

I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry,

Everything will pass like smoke from white apple trees.

Withered by gold covered,

I won't be young anymore.

The lyrical hero feels the changes that are taking place in him: “I have now become stingier in my desires...”. But nothing can be changed, these are the laws of the universe, it is impossible to go against them. Yesenin understands this, but reverently recalls his youth as the most wonderful time, since it was then that he felt truly happy.

Thus, philosophical lyrics Sergei Yesenin is closely connected with the existence of man, with the meaning of his life. The poet accepts the variability and transience of time and considers this law of life to be natural and the most true:

May you be blessed forever,

What has come to flourish and die.

The works of Sergei Yesenin are extremely piercingly sincere. The Russian soul itself rings in them, rejoices, yearns, rushes, and “goes through torment.” The confessional, “discouraging” frankness of Yesenin’s lyrics allows us to call the work of this poet a single novel - a lyrical autobiographical novel in verse, a confessional novel.

Starting from his early poems, Yesenin’s poetic worldview is characterized by artistic parallelism, which determined the originality of metaphors in his lyrics. For the poet, the world is animated by a single concept, and correspondences are easily visible between the phenomena of the human and natural, animal and plant, earthly and heavenly, living and inorganic world, giving rise to unusual images:

Little maple baby to the uterus

The green udder sucks.

The main motives and themes of the poet’s lyrics are the theme of the Motherland and nature, the theme of revolution, the motive of the poet’s tragic reflection on life and some others. At the same time, Yesenin’s lyrics are distinguished by the unity of their problematics. It focuses on the portrayal of a dramatic personality at a turning point. The poet conveys his idea of ​​revolution with the image of a red horse (“Come down, appear to us, red horse!”) - a romantic, fantastic image, but akin to the world of birch trees, bird cherry trees and maples, the world of Russian nature. All this formed the basis of Yesenin’s poetry, embodying his ideas about beauty, his desire for a harmonious life.

When Yesenin became convinced that the revolution would accelerate Russia’s transition from the semi-patriarchal rut to the highway of modern machine technology, he took it very painfully. Real revolutionary events, drastic changes in the village - all this in Yesenin’s vision spoke of the death of a meek, patriarchal, secluded Rus', created mainly by the poet’s imagination, with closed customs and interests. The collapse of this illusory idea of ​​rural Russia was natural, but at the same time it seemed to Yesenin that it had disappeared close to nature and a deeply poetic area of ​​life, and therefore also an area of ​​feelings. And the poet associated with her an unattainable ideal of spiritual peace, clarity, something welcoming and calm.

The poet opposes technological progress, which destroys the ancient poetic world associated with patriarchal antiquity, with harmony between man and nature. With his poetry, Yesenin contrasted “Blue Rus'” with the world of people building plants and factories, the “natural” world of the village - with the mechanical civilization of the city.

The collision of the poetic and anti-aesthetic plays out, according to the poet, not only in the outside world. The soul of the poet also becomes its arena. But Yesenin’s position on this problem did not remain constant. This evolution can be traced by referring to the poems “Soviet Rus'”, “Letter to Mother”, “Uncomfortable liquid moonlight...”, “Luck bless every work...”, etc. Gradually, the poet overcomes his utopian ideas about the special peasant path of development of Russia, in his the lyricist became aware of the grandiose meaning of the events taking place.

Poems devoted to the theme of tragic reflections on the end of life acquire philosophical overtones. The poem “I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry...” (1921) is one of the first in Yesenin’s lyrics, which traces the closeness of his position with Pushkin’s perception of the movement of life as a “general law” of existence (“Again I visited...” , 1835).

The lyrical hero of Yesenin’s poem perceives the turning point of his life (“...I won’t be young anymore”) as a change of season, sunrise and sunset. Youth is associated with the “noisy army”, the “pink horse” of dawn, the awakening of the “flame”, the beating of life. At the same time, this is spring blossoming, “freshness”, “wildness”, “high water”, giving way to “withering”, “chill”, refusal of “desires”, a feeling of “perishability”, losses and the expectation of death. The charm of life is smoke, a dream that the lyrical hero perceives as having already “dreamed.” Awakening from it marks the time of maturity, the time of taking stock.

Parallelism between human and natural worlds unusual. Yesenin's metaphors are built on their interpenetration. The confession of the lyrical hero (“I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry...”) is made not only on his behalf. Nature speaks through his lips, not regretting the white color of the apple trees, the summer “riot” of the birch grove, the leaves falling from the maples, not calling to return what “passes”, not crying about the decay of the world. The “general law” is the same for everything and everyone, it is fulfilled quietly, inexorably, “forever” unchangeably.

And if for nature the change of seasons is hope for the next spring, then for the lyrical hero, who compares himself with a flower, a leaf, and not with the entire universe, each season is unique.

That is why it is especially deep and significant for characterizing his inner world the conclusion of the poem appears:

May you be blessed forever,

What has come to flourish and die.

Spirituality, the rarest gift of life, consciousness that made it possible to comprehend its movement, diversity and unity, which forms the basis of eternity, “came” to the lyrical hero.

Yesenin's lyrics are significant because the poet is not afraid to reveal complex, contradictory feelings and touch on the dark sides of the human soul. It embraces life in all its intensity and concreteness, expresses the Russian spiritual need to “grab over the edge.”

The name of Sergei Yesenin is firmly connected in our minds with the characteristic given by him: “I am the last poet of the village.” His bright, lively, colorful poems glorify the nature of the poet’s dear Motherland, the simple and harmonious way of village life. But this is far from a complete portrait of Yesenin as a poet.

In his work, reflection on deep philosophical questions was intertwined with contemplation and enjoyment of nature. The poet so naturally reflected the transience of human life and our inevitable departure in the symbol of leaf fall:

All of us, all of us in this world are perishable,

Copper quietly pours from the maple leaves...

May you be blessed forever,

What has come to flourish and die.

(“I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry...")

A characteristic feature of Yesenin’s worldview is great love to life, to everything that this life gave him:

I'm happy that I kissed women,

Crushed flowers, lying on the grass

And animals, like our smaller brothers,

Never hit me on the head.

(“Now we are leaving little by little...”)

Yesenin is deeply religious, and his idea of ​​the afterlife is bright: “We are now leaving little by little // To that country where there is peace and grace” (“We are now leaving little by little...”). But no matter how beautiful Paradise is, for the poet nothing can be more beautiful and sweeter than his native land:

If the holy army shouts:

“Throw away Rus', live in paradise!”

I will say: “No need for paradise, Give me my homeland.”

(“Go away, my dear Rus'...”)

The poet reflects on the change in his views on the world with age, thinks about his life, and is amazed at the changes in himself in the poem “I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry...”:

I have now become more stingy in my desires,

My life? or did I dream about you?

Youth, with its enthusiasm and scope, “flood of feelings,” is irrevocably gone, but the poet does not regret anything, accepting everything with love.

The motif of the harmony of human life with nature and the hostile attitude towards the “attack” of the city on the countryside, and iron on the tender, living flesh of nature, are repeated many times in Yesenin’s work. This position is most clearly reflected in the work “Sorokoust”: “He comes, he comes, a terrible messenger, // The fifth bulky thicket aches,” “Here he is, here he is with an iron belly, // Drawn to the throats of the plains.” five." The image of a smoky, rumbling steam locomotive rushing across a field does not fit into the idyllic, peaceful picture! Much sweeter to the poet is the foal galloping after the train. But his time is running out: “...they now buy a steam locomotive for thousands of pounds of horse skin and meat,” the author says with hostility.

It cannot be said that Yesenin is an opponent of progress. But this progress is not at all what we would like! Yesenin’s subtle nature has a presentiment that civilization has turned in the wrong direction, starting to harm nature, losing harmony and unity with it. And wasn't he right? As if knowing that this iron guest - the industrial world - will cause many more troubles and disasters, he exclaims in his hearts:

Damn you, nasty guest!

Our song won't work with you.

It's a pity that you didn't have to as a child

Drown like a bucket in a well.

Sergei Yesenin managed in an amazing way to combine thoughts about the fate of man, his life and death, about the past and the future with the highly artistic lyrics of his melodic poems. The author's vision of the world is revealed in every stroke, in every so lovingly drawn landscape and amazes the reader with its depth of understanding of the essence of existence.

Yesenin is a philosopher “by nature”, a singer of life and harmony, a true lover of humanity: “... the people who live with me on earth are dear to me” (“We are now leaving little by little”), and his view of the world is profound appeals to me.

Early lyrics. “My lyrics are alive with one great love for my homeland. The feeling of homeland is central to my work.” – wrote Yesenin. The poet was born in the village of Konstantinovo in the Ryazan region, and the “feeling of homeland” from childhood became an integral part of Yesenin’s heart and life itself.

In the early lyrics one is struck by the freshness and lightness, the sonority that is found in nature itself. “Yesenin is an organ created by nature to express love for all living things,” these words of Gorky very accurately fit Yesenin’s poems about the homeland and nature. In Russia, everything merged for Yesenin: his native land and the discreet beauty of Russian nature, the loneliness of his mother and the gray hair of his father, his first love and pity for all living things, for “our smaller brothers.” In Yesenin’s poems, nature is spiritualized, endowed with its own feelings and character. Man is part of nature, the natural and the human are inseparable: in Yesenin’s lines, human feelings are naturally and organically conveyed through images of nature, and nature is personified (“the bush of my head,” “a riot of eyes and a flood of feelings,” “it’s good under the autumn freshness of the soul-apple tree with the wind shake off”, “in the heart there are lilies of the valley of flared forces”). Herself human life is likened to a “golden grove”, a “pink horse”. Human life is blossoming, death is withering, youth is “the lilac blossom of the soul,” maturity is “golden foliage is spinning,” “as a tree silently drops its leaves, so I drop sad words.”

The unity of the human and natural worlds is emphasized by the originality of vivid, unique comparisons and metaphors. The world is one, therefore, metaphorical images are naturally and organically created that reveal the possibility of universal merging: “the old hut with the jaws of the threshold chews the fragrant crumb of silence”, “the bird cherry tree sprinkles snow”, “like an apple blossom, gray hair flowed through my father’s beard”, “the foliage began to swirl golden in the pinkish water on the pond, like a light flock of butterflies, fadingly flying towards a star,” “maybe instead of winter in the fields, it was the swans who sat in the meadow.”

The color scheme of Yesenin’s early lyrics is light, varied, harmoniously echoing the colors of nature itself: white, pink, gold, red, red, blue, indigo. Most common blue- the color of freshness, purity and hope: “only blue sucks the eyes”, “blue that fell into the river”, “blue left Rus'”.

There is a slight sadness in Yesenin’s Russia: “lake melancholy”, “shepherd sadness”, “melancholy of endless plains”. The poet’s homeland is quiet, meek, perhaps that’s why love for it is inextricably linked with soul-enlightening pity.

The lyrical hero of Yesenin’s early poetic cycles “Radunitsa” and “Dove” is a gentle youth wandering around Rus', a “wandering pilgrim” walking along the Russian land and never tired of admiring its beauty. The eyes of this wanderer are wide open, the world seems to be in physical contact with them: “Only the blue sucks the eyes.” In the hero of Yesenin’s early lyrics, one is struck by the sincerity and brightness of the pristine view of the world; this is a person endowed with the happy gift of understanding the soul of nature, the language of plants and animals; it is no coincidence that in Yesenin’s poems nature is spiritualized. The feeling of the short duration of earthly life gives rise in the soul of the lyrical hero not to fear of death, but to a particularly heightened sense of beauty. Yesenin’s hero feels like a particle capable of “spreading the light,” joyfully accepts life, admires the beauty of his native land, perceiving existence as a miracle.

Rus' in a time of trials. The poem “Rus”, written in the year of the beginning of the First World War – 1914, reflects Rus' in its time of trial. At the beginning of the poem, an image of ancient Rus' is created - with witchcraft and at the same time simplicity and meekness. The lyrical hero feels love for such Rus', which has become part of the heart:

But I love you, gentle motherland!

And I can’t figure out why.

Your joy is short-lived

With a loud song in the spring meadow

Lermontov also wrote about such love, the reason for which cannot be deciphered or understood, in his poem “Motherland”.

A time of trials and tribulations has come to the natural and human world: “foam from the lakes is waving its shroud,” “the cup of heaven is split,” “the lamps of heaven are swaying.” And the peasants - “peaceful plowmen” - without further words or tears went to the defense of Rus', as once, united by the “hidden warmth of patriotism,” the heroes of Leo Tolstoy went:

Peaceful plowmen gathered

Without sadness, without complaints and tears,

They put sugar-filled crumpets in their bags

And they shoved him onto the dumpy cart.

Through the village to the high outskirts

A crowd of people saw them off...

That's where, Rus', your good fellows,

All support in times of adversity.

The original, eternal business of “peaceful plowmen” is to defend their homeland in times of trial, the original, eternal business of women is to grieve for their loved ones, to believe and wait.

Late lyrics. In Yesenin's work of the twenties, disturbing, even tragic notes appear; joy in the soul of his lyrical hero is increasingly adjacent to sadness. A gentle youth wandering around Rus' gives way in the cycle “Moscow tavern” to a “hooligan,” “a tramp and a thief”: “I am a mischievous Moscow reveler,” “that’s why I’m known as a charlatan, that’s why I’m known as a brawler” - this is what the poet calls his lyrical hero . Mental breakdown, an attempt to find oneself in a changed world and a new time - all this was reflected in the poems of this period.

Yesenin was destined to feel the full weight of the word “last”: “I am the last poet of the village,” - this is how the poet says about himself with boundless sadness. His Rus' is the Rus' of the “golden log hut”, and therefore the impending era of the dominance of iron and steel is disastrous for Yesenin’s “blue Rus'” - this is what the poems are about “The world is mysterious, my ancient world,” “ Sorokoust", "I am the last poet of the village." A ruthless city is approaching the village: “the stone hands of the highway have squeezed the village by the neck,” “an iron guest will soon come onto the path of the blue field. Oatmeal, spilled at dawn, will be collected by a black handful.” IN color palette In Yesenin's lyrics, the tragic and disturbing black color appears more and more often. For Yesenin, iron has forever remained the antipode of everything living, quivering and fragile, so it is no coincidence that such endless touching sadness in the poem “Sorokoust” is endowed with the image of a small foal running on a train.

The road motif, one of the central motifs in Yesenin’s lyrics, is also filled with dramatic shades - this is the road leading away from the homeland:

I left my home

Rus' left the blue one.

Three-star birch forest above the pond

The old mother feels sadness.

Golden frog moon

Spread out on the calm water.

Like apple blossom, gray hair

There was a spill in my father's beard.

I won't be back soon, not soon!

The blizzard will sing and ring for a long time.

Guards blue Rus'

Old maple on one leg.

And I know there is joy in it

To those who kiss the leaves of the rain,

Because that old maple

The head looks like me.

However, the most tragic changes are those that the revolution brought with it. Now it is no longer the poet who is moving away from his homeland - his Russia is disappearing: “Blue Rus'” is turning into “Soviet Rus'”. You can no longer return to the old Russia - this is what the poem is about. "Soviet Rus'". In his autobiography, Yesenin writes: “During the years of the revolution he was entirely on the side of October, but he accepted everything in his own way, with a peasant bias.” Yesenin’s impressions of those years: “I was in the village. Everything is collapsing... you have to be there yourself to understand... It’s the end of everything.” The feeling of the disintegration of times, the destruction of the age-old way of life, the fracture of existence. The poet is painfully trying to find himself in the new world, but he is unable to break ties with old Russia - hence his acceptance and at the same time rejection of what is happening. Accepting changes with his mind, Yesenin’s lyrical hero cannot accept them with his heart: no matter how the “voice of thought” convinces the heart to come to terms with the inevitable transformation of “Blue Rus'” into “Soviet Rus'”, however, deep down in the soul, resentment, despair and bitter irony resonate with acute pain, facing oneself:

My poetry is no longer needed here,

And, perhaps, I myself am not needed here either.

The time of “tribal enmity” is preferred by the “agitation of Poor Demyan”, but Yesenin’s “dear lyre” does not belong “neither October nor May,” that is, something transient, temporary. The lyrical hero of this poem never found a common path with the new time:

Blossom, young ones, and have healthy bodies! Your life is different. You have a different tune. And I will go alone to unknown limits, pacifying my rebellious soul forever.

Poem “The feather grass is sleeping. Plain dear" written in 1925, the last in Yesenin’s life, is built on the principle of antithesis: its first part contrasts with the second. At the beginning of the poem, the image of “blue Rus'” appears, tenderly enlightened and quiet, and therefore the main emotional tone of the first quatrains is quiet sadness, enlightenment. Nature is full of eternal beauty and harmony; it carefully heals human souls, relieving stress and anxiety. There is no impetuous and sharp movement in this Rus', no rapid changes and loudness - only silence and harmony of eternity itself:

The light of the moon, mysterious and long,

The willows are crying, the poplars are whispering.

But no one listens to the crane's cry

He will not stop loving his father's fields.

The muted sound echoes in the poet’s soul with the same melody of happiness, the source of which is sympathy, co-experience, co-existence with the world of willows and poplars.

However, the rhythmic and intonation pattern of the second part reflects the tension of the lyrical hero, who feels the tragedy of “Leaving Rus'”. The tragic breakdown of times resonates with pain in the soul, the poet is forced to listen to the music of the new time, which does not promise him peace of mind and harmonious consonance with the world:

At night, huddled against the headboard,

I see him as a strong enemy

How someone else's youth splashes with newness

To my glades and meadows.

However, the “strong enemy” is inexorable, the “new light” is dazzling, and therefore a bitter plea is heard in the last lines:

Let me die in peace in my beloved homeland, loving everything!

There is no curse, despair, or unbelief in Yesenin’s heart; there is reconciliation, acceptance of his tragic fate as “the last poet of the village.”

Russia became for Yesenin his pain and happiness, his destiny and life itself:

Rejoicing, raging and suffering,

Life is good in Rus'.

Philosophical motives of S.A.’s lyrics Yesenina

Seryozha has his own beautiful voice. He loves Russia in his own way, like no one else. And he sings it in his own way. Birches, moonlight, rye fields, lakes - this is his song. And he sings it with his whole being. A. Andreev The red, unkempt sun, as if half asleep, was setting behind the dark ridge of the forest. For the last time, a crimson shower of light illuminated the scattered haystacks and fluffy clouds, and looked into my eyes. Maybe it wanted to ask if I had heard anything about a Ryazan guy with light brown hair, the color of ripe rye, blue eyes like the sky and a smile as clear as spring rain. Sun, stop for a moment! I will tell you about Sergei Yesenin, I will tell you about his lyrics, I will tell you why I fell in love with his poems. Yesenin's poems became dear to me as soon as I entered magical world poetry. Since then, the versatility and originality of his work have never ceased to amaze me. Studying more and more deeply the life and work of the poet, I fell in love with him with all my soul and want to be a singer of his poetry. Why? I often asked myself this question. Indeed, why are his poems so close and understandable today? Perhaps because of his deep love for his homeland, for his people, because of his boundless love for nature, its beauty, because they teach me to understand everything beautiful. The poet's lyrics are alive with one great love - love for the homeland. The feeling of homeland is fundamental in the work of Sergei Yesenin. Many poets tried to reveal the theme of their homeland in their works. But, in my opinion, no one succeeded the way Yesenin did it. He proudly called himself a "peasant son" and a "citizen of the village." Wherever Yesenin was, no matter what height of glory he rose to, he always saw peasant Rus' and lived in its hopes. In Yesenin’s poems, not only does Rus' “shine”, not only does the poet’s quiet declaration of love for her sound, but also expresses a person’s faith in its future, the great future of his native people. Yesenin froze in place. He imagined a huge, endless Rus', all bathed in birch light, standing next to huts along the Oka. “My homeland,” lips whispered, “Motherland.” And suddenly they froze, because other words were found: You are a wretch, my dear Rus', Huts are in the robes of the image... There is no end in sight, Only the blue blinds the eyes. Yesenin with frank warmth sings of the unique beauty of his native land. How he loves him! He is in love with endless fields, forests, his Ryazan sky, and wild flowers. Everything around has been quiet for a long time. And he couldn't sleep. He suddenly wanted to see a small forest lake, where he, a barefoot boy, chased the slanting rays of the sun, a young birch tree that in the summer rinsed its braids in the water, and in the winter tinkled them crystal. Tomorrow is the beginning of haymaking time. And how much strength it takes to swing a scythe from dawn until dark. And a man walks and walks on his native land. And the prankish stars have no idea that the poet has no time for sleep, that he is immensely happy, because the whole world is for him. The grasses bloom for him, the mischievous eyes of the lakes laugh for him, and even they, the stars, shine for him. And involuntarily the words burst from the heart: O Rus'! The raspberry field and the blue that fell into the river - I love your lake melancholy to the point of joy, to the point of pain! What boundless love for nature! I am fascinated by Yesenin’s unique lyrics, understanding of all the subtleties of native nature and the ability to convey this in poetry. Yesenin creates his poems about nature from a rough drawing sketched by nature itself and verified with the general picture of natural life. The poet plants rowan peasant hut. The last hopes are burning in the “rowan bonfire”: A red rowan bonfire is burning in the garden, But it can’t warm anyone. Yesenin has a sharpened view of those features of nature that can be likened to the material world. He even invites the heavenly bodies to earth. The month is similar to a foal, it is also red and “harnesses” to the sleigh. The most painful searches and discoveries of oneself take place under the moon. Yesenin’s poems contain all of life, with all the turns, potholes and ups. Yesenin went through a short but thorny life path. He stumbled, made mistakes, fell into populism - these are completely natural “costs” of youth, of a personal nature. However, Sergei Yesenin was always in search, on the road, at the sharp turns of history. All his personal experiences and failures recede before the main thing - love for his homeland. What is the most precious thing in life for a person? I would answer: “Motherland.” And isn’t it happiness to glorify her beauty! You cannot live on earth and not have a home, mother, homeland. And it’s impossible not to love her. Dew fell on the grass. The mocking stars melted in the sky. The dawn was somehow pink and ringing. It seemed as if you would say a word quietly, and it would fly across the whole earth. Somewhere far away a song began. The forest, lake, and sun responded loudly to her. And Yesenin wanted to meet people. He ran out into the meadow, looked at his native, painfully familiar fields and froze. Now he knew for sure: no matter where fate took him, he would never part with either this land or the birch tree above the pond. The words themselves lined up in a row: If the holy army shouts: “Throw away Rus', live in paradise!” I will say: “There is no need for paradise, Give me my homeland.” This was his first oath of allegiance to the new, steel Russia. The words rose in the ringing silence of dawn towards the sun and flew over Russia along with the free winds through forests, lakes, meadows, through the years. Having passed away at the age of 30, Yesenin left us a wonderful legacy. Filled with love for man, for his native land, imbued with sincerity, utmost sincerity, kindness, Yesenin’s poetry is relevant and modern today. Many of his poems became songs. And throughout my life I will carry a volume of Yesenin’s poems with me.