Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
The garden is all in bloom
The evening is on fire
So refreshingly joyful to me!
Here I stand
Here I go
Like a mysterious speech I'm waiting.
This dawn;
This spring
So incomprehensible, but so clear!
Is it full of happiness
Am I crying
You are my blessed secret.
The love that overwhelms the Fetov hero and the joy of dating a sweetheart are often associated with exciting "spring rushes", themes of soul revival and genuine creativity. The lyrical subject "I saw your milky, infant hair ...", one of the most optimistic works of Fet, solemnly informs about the infinity of happiness and the infinity of joy. The source of the cheerful state was the meeting with the chosen one, her childishly fresh beauty and “sweet sighing” voice.
The poetic text of 1884 speaks of the incomprehensible and delightful power of beauty. To depict the inner state of the hero, manifested in the beginning, the author chooses wordless constructions, focusing on the traditional symbols of the spring garden and the setting sun. The latter correlate with the flourishing of the soul, expressed by the author's complex epithet "refreshingly joyful."
The central stanzas bring new notes to the mood of the lyrical "I": he lives in anticipation of a mysterious, undoubtedly romantic meeting. The surrounding world, awakened from a cold sleep, is also shrouded in mystery. Complex feelings are illustrated by the aphoristic oxymoron "incomprehensible" - "clear." He emphasizes the contradiction between the hidden innermost meaning and explicit expression external signs natural transformation.
The opposition "I stand" - "I am going" also concerns the outer side of the life of the lyrical "I". In this case, the antithesis does not look like a genuine opposition. It is framed by the anaphora "here", which demonstrates indifference to the active principle and switches attention to the spiritual sphere.
In the final, the situation develops: emotional impulses lose their importance. Joy and sorrow pale before meeting with the mystery, which is characterized with the help of Church Slavism "gracious". An artistic device indicates a special, high and significant status of the meeting, evoking an image in the reader's memory Of the lovely lady Blok, one of the successors of the ideas of Fet's lyrics.
The rhythmic pattern of the piece is unusual: to convey the obligatory pause, the author divides the first line into two segments. The result is an original stanza "portrait" that combines a couple of short and one long lines. The dactylic dimension, which the poet resorts to, is applied within the framework of the semantic halo that has become established in the Russian lyric tradition. It expresses the expectation and passion of the soul.
"The garden is all in bloom" Afanasy Fet
The garden is in full bloom
Afanasy FetThe garden is all in bloom
The evening is on fire
So refreshingly joyful to me!Here I stand
Here I go
Like a mysterious speech I'm waiting.This dawn;
This spring
So incomprehensible, but so clear!Is it full of happiness
Am I crying
You are my blessed secret.
Analysis of Fet's poem "The garden is all in bloom"
The love that overwhelms the Fetov hero and the joy of dating with a sweetheart are often associated with exciting "spring gusts", themes of soul revival and genuine creativity. The lyrical subject "", one of the most optimistic works of Fet, solemnly informs about the infinity of happiness and the infinity of joy. The source of the cheerful state was the meeting with the chosen one, her childishly fresh beauty and “sweet sighing” voice.
The poetic text of 1884 speaks of the incomprehensible and delightful power of beauty. To depict the inner state of the hero, manifested in the beginning, the author chooses wordless constructions, focusing on the traditional symbols of the spring garden and the setting sun. The latter correlate with the flourishing of the soul, expressed by the author's complex epithet "refreshingly joyful."
The central stanzas bring new notes to the mood of the lyrical "I": he lives in anticipation of a mysterious, undoubtedly romantic meeting. The surrounding world, awakened from a cold sleep, is also shrouded in mystery. Complex feelings are illustrated by the aphoristic oxymoron "incomprehensible" - "clear." He emphasizes the contradiction between the hidden innermost meaning and the obvious manifestation of the external signs of natural transformation.
The opposition "I stand" - "I am going" also concerns the outer side of the life of the lyrical "I". In this case, the antithesis does not look like a genuine opposition. It is framed by the anaphora "here", which demonstrates indifference to the active principle and switches attention to the spiritual sphere.
In the final, the situation develops: emotional impulses lose their importance. Joy and sadness fade before meeting with the mystery, which is characterized with the help of Church Slavism "grace-filled". The artistic device indicates the special, high and significant status of the meeting, evoking in the reader's memory the image of the Beautiful Lady of Blok, one of the successors of the ideas of Fet's lyrics.
The rhythmic pattern of the piece is unusual: to convey the obligatory pause, the author divides the first line into two segments. The result is an original stanza "portrait" that combines a couple of short and one long lines. The dactylic dimension, which the poet resorts to, is applied within the framework of the semantic halo that has become established in the Russian lyric tradition. It expresses the expectation and passion of the soul.
Great about poetry:
Poetry is like painting: another work will captivate you more if you look at it up close, and another if you go further away.
Small cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of greasy wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which fell through.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is the most tempted to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen sparkles.
Humboldt W.
Poems work well if they are created with spiritual clarity.
Writing poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish poetry grows without knowing shame ... Like a dandelion by the fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not in verses alone: \u200b\u200bit is spread everywhere, it is around us. Look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life blows from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.
I. S. Turgenev
For many people, writing poetry is a mental growth disease.
G. Lichtenberg
A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn along the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing within us. As he tells us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens our love and our sorrow in our souls. He's a magician. By understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful verses flow, there is no room for quibbling.
Murasaki Shikibu
I am turning to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags a stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! - suddenly boldly and frankly said Ivan.
- Do not write anymore! - asked the visitor pleadingly.
- I promise and I swear! - Ivan said solemnly ...
Mikhail Afanasevich Bulgakov. "Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from others only in that they write them in words.
John Fowles. "The mistress of the French lieutenant"
Every poem is a blanket stretched out over the edges of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
Poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. This is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind each poetic work of those times, the whole Universe is invariably hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for the one who inadvertently wakes up the dozing lines.
Max Fry. "Chatty Dead"
One of my clumsy hippopotamuses-poems I attached such a paradise tail: ...
Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not worry, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not the sea and not a plague!
Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky
Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore - chase critics. They are just pitiful slips of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Do not let his vulgar palpating hands go there. Let the poems seem to him an absurd hum, a chaotic pile of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from boring reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.
Boris Krieger. "Thousand Lives"
Poems are a thrill of the heart, excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing more than pure poetry that has rejected the word.