When a snowflake that flies easily
Like an asterisk that has fallen sliding,
You take it with your hand - it melts like a tear,
And it is impossible to return airiness to it.
When captivated by the transparency of a jellyfish,
We will touch her with the whim of our hands,
She is like a prisoner, locked in bonds,
Suddenly he turns pale and suddenly perishes.
When we want in wandering moths
Looks like not a dream, but an earthly reality -
Where is their outfit? From them on our fingers
One dawn painted dust!
Leave flight to snowflakes with moths
And don't kill the jellyfish on the sands!
You can't grab your dream with your hands
You can't keep your dream in your hands!
It is not possible for what was shaky sadness,
Say: “Be passion! Burning madness, rday! "
Your love was such a mistake
But without love we perish. Wizard!
Analysis of the poem "Error" by Tsvetaeva
In 1910 the first collection of poems by M. Tsvetaeva "Evening Album" was published. It includes the poem "Error", in which the young poetess expounds her views on love relationships. Some researchers believe that Tsvetaeva wrote it under the impression of her short-lived romance with the poet L. Kobylinsky.
In the first part of the work, the poetess lists various fleeting images, their fragility and "airiness". A tiny snowflake is beautiful in flight, but it is impossible to catch it. It will simply melt into a "teardrop". No less beautiful is the jellyfish, which also “turns pale and perishes” in human hands. Another image - "wandering moths" fluttering around a person and leaving only "painted dust" on the fingers.
With the help of these symbolic images, Tsvetaeva wants to show the complete opposition of the physical and spiritual worlds, “earthly were” and “dreams”. Everything sublime and beautiful is in a completely different dimension. The poetess declares: "You can't grab a dream ... with your hands." A person's attempt to transfer the object of his adoration from the ideal to the real world and appropriate it to himself will be a fatal mistake. For Tsvetaeva, love was such a mistake.
The work "Error" confirms that already in her youth, for Tsvetaeva, spiritual, and not physical, intimacy between lovers came to the fore. The poetess throughout her life was looking for a person who would see in her not a real woman, but an unearthly deity. Moreover, a man in love was obliged to bow before her and make certain sacrifices. It is not surprising that Tsvetaeva's numerous novels fade away as quickly as they flared up. The disappointment was mutual. The men understood that instead of a faithful and caring wife, they met a woman who lived in her dreams and considered herself a goddess. Tsvetaeva, on the other hand, realized that in order to continue the relationship, she needed to descend from heaven and start an ordinary life.
But all this will be ahead. Having experienced disappointment in the male ideal for the first time, the poetess does not despair and seeks to continue her search: "without love we perish." Tsvetaeva's “mistake” became the first link in a long chain of frustrations from collisions with real life.
Say what you like, but Tsvetaev's poetry is unique and unique. Her poems can be recognized among the multitude. Having met her "Error" in the almanac, we immediately recognize the author. The exact and clear construction of the verse and the logical conclusion of the entire work are the classics that Marina Tsvetaeva uses.
She writes her deeply philosophical poem "Error" consistently attracting more and more new heroes: first it is a snowflake, then a jellyfish and a moth. All these airy, weightless, easily injured objects are akin to cherished dreams person. The farther and more unreal they are, the more beautiful, expensive and valuable for us.
But as soon as a dream turns into reality, it immediately faces everyday problems and ceases to be so beautiful and unearthly. It melts like a snowflake, dies like a jellyfish, crumbles to dust like a moth.
But the main idea of \u200b\u200bthe poem is that there is no need to hold on to departed feelings. When passion has faded away and love is gone, it is not necessary in spite of everything to hold in your hands what is no longer there. If pure and light feelings are already clouded with dark spots, such love has no future. And Tsvetaeva believes that lofty feelings should not be lowered to everyday routine at all, they must remain somewhere above everyday worries.
However, the poetess immediately objects to herself that without a great feeling of love, a person cannot live on earth. And she appeals to the sorcerer. Perhaps Marina has in mind the Creator, perhaps she is looking for help from a magician or storyteller. In any case, the woman screams and asks for help, again waiting for a miracle, because she knows that without love a person will die.
And even if only recently there was disappointment from a faded relationship, which simply came to naught. And even if she intellectually understands that it is not worth touching another snowflake or jellyfish with her hands, then the dreams-moths will not crumble to dust. And yet she longs for love, longs for deep, sincere feelings. And this is the whole person.
Years have passed, and we are also looking for our soul mate, dreaming of high relationships. And how often today passionate feelings melt faster than a snowflake on a hand ...
Say what you like, but Tsvetaev's poetry is unique and unique. Her poems can be recognized among the multitude. Having met her "Error" in the almanac, we immediately recognize the author. The exact and clear construction of the verse and the logical conclusion of the entire work are the classics that Marina Tsvetaeva uses.
She writes her deeply philosophical poem "Mistake" consistently attracting more and more new heroes: first it is a snowflake, then a jellyfish and a moth. All these airy, weightless, easily wounded objects are akin to the cherished dreams of man. Than they go further
And the more unreal, the more beautiful, more expensive and more valuable for us.
But as soon as a dream turns into reality, it immediately faces everyday problems and ceases to be so beautiful and unearthly. It melts like a snowflake, dies like a jellyfish, crumbles to dust like a moth.
But the main idea of \u200b\u200bthe poem is that there is no need to hold on to departed feelings. When the passion has faded and love is gone, do not defy
To hold in the hands of everything that which no longer exists. If pure and light feelings are already clouded with dark spots, such love has no future. And Tsvetaeva believes that lofty feelings should not be lowered to everyday routine at all, they must remain somewhere above everyday worries.
However, the poetess immediately objects to herself that without a great feeling of love, a person cannot live on earth. And she appeals to the sorcerer. Perhaps Marina has in mind the Creator, perhaps she is looking for help from a magician or storyteller. In any case, the woman screams and asks for help, again waiting for a miracle, because she knows that without love a person will die.
And even if only recently there was disappointment from a faded relationship, which simply came to naught. And even if she intellectually understands that it is not worth touching another snowflake or jellyfish with her hands, then the dreams-moths will not crumble to dust. And yet she longs for love, longs for deep, sincere feelings. And this is the whole person.
Years have passed, and we are also looking for our soul mate, dreaming of high relationships. And how often today passionate feelings melt faster than a snowflake on a hand ...
***
When a snowflake that flies easily
Like an asterisk that has fallen sliding,
You take it with your hand - it melts like a tear,
And it is impossible to return airiness to it.
When captivated by the transparency of a jellyfish,
We will touch her with the whim of our hands,
She is like a prisoner, locked in bonds,
Suddenly he turns pale and suddenly perishes.
When we want in wandering moths
Looks like not a dream, but an earthly reality -
Where is their outfit? From them on our fingers
One dawn painted dust!
Leave flight to snowflakes with moths
And don't destroy the jellyfish on the sands!
You can't grab your dream with your hands
You can't keep your dream in your hands!
It is not possible for what was shaky sadness,
Say: "Be passion! Grief madness, rday!"
Your love was such a mistake
But without love we perish, Sorcerer!
*****************
My comment (Nika Tumanova):
I have such a character trait - "in everything I want to get to the very essence," as Pasternak wrote. If there is something I do not understand in what I can and want to understand, I will understand it to the end. Someone may call such a trait tediousness or meticulousness, but what is, that is, the character cannot be altered.
With such a character, the presence of the Internet is like a balm for the soul: without leaving the checkout, as they say, you can find or double-check any information. True, like every medal, this one also has its downside. Namely - a huge amount of incorrect and unverified information. Therefore, when doing searches, it is better not to be limited to one site, but to revise several sources of information.
Let me explain now where I am leading this ...
I caught sight of this wonderful poem by Tsvetaeva - "Error".
I read it. I admired. Everything seems to be clear, everything is clear ... everything except one: to whom is this poem addressed? Unknown.
I find this verse on various sites - no comments. Either everyone understands everything except me, or no one else asks this question.
I reread the verse. I understand that the answer is hidden in one, the very last word - Wizard.
Who is this?
I go further in search ... I find an analysis of this poem on one literary site called "The Tree of Poetry". The title suggests that people are good at poetry. I read the analysis of the last quatrain:
***
In the last quatrain, Tsvetaeva reveals to us the whole essence of her pain: h the enthusiasm for the person she loved faded away, the unearthly went into a fairy tale, the fairy tale became everyday life, disappointment remained, the feeling that you were deceived ...
The last line is contrasted with everything previous written in the poem - the whole main idea of \u200b\u200bthe verse:
But without love we perish, Sorcerer!
You can't touch snowflakes and jellyfish, but without touching love, we die ... Sorcerer (God, Creator, Storyteller), do something, do miracle!..
***
I read this explanation and could not believe my eyes ... Is the poem addressed to God ?! But obviously not!
***
ELLIS is the literary pseudonym of the poet Lev Kobylinsky.
For Marina, he became “the first poet in my life met”. He was not only her friend, but also the main conductor of new trends. It was Ellis who introduced the young poet into the literary circles of Moscow.
"One of the most passionate early Symbolists, a scattered poet, a man of genius" -she wrote about Ellis .
(My soul, wrapped around its dream, does not give it to nothingness- I really liked this line of the poet!)
So ... THE WITCH - so called Ellis Marina Tsvetaeva.
He was our angel, he was our demon
Our tutor is our magician,
Our prince and knight. - He was to us all
Among people!
There was so much abundance in him
I don’t know how to start!
We loved him ardently -
One spring ... ...
ABOUT Ellis! - Knight without treason!
Son of the bluest of the land!
The walls were moving apart with you
Into another life ...
(from the poem "The Sorcerer" - by the way, a wonderful thing!)
Ellis proposed to her to marry him. In response, she wrote him the poem "Error". It was a symbolic, subtle and sad hint of a negative answer.
Where did this symbolism come from?
Because Ellis's outlook was as follows: in the center of consciousness - the cult of dreams, intolerable into reality; she is a dream corpse.
A clearer idea of \u200b\u200bhis views can be obtained from Ellis's preface to his translation of the drama by J. Rodenbach's "The Coverlet", published in 1907, a book that must have entered the circle of young Tsvetaeva's reading.
"The Coverlet" is a symbolic drama, the plot of which boils down to the following.
The hero of the play falls in love with a nun who temporarily lives in his house and takes care of his sick relative. The function of the guardian of the symbolic secret possessed by the heroine is performed by the headdress, which, according to the charter of her order, she must always cover her head, making her hair invisible. The hero's imagination is trying to penetrate this veil, his dream creates the ideal image of the hidden hair. One day, due to a coincidence of circumstances, he sees a nun without a headdress, and the ideal image crumbles:
I saw her as an earthly woman:
Her brow did not hide, as before,
And her hair with their delicate colors,
Visible to the eyes, crumbled in waves.
Alas! my love that wove a dream
Out of the unknown, she died forever! ..
Only the cover was lifted, everything that captivated the dream,
Disappeared without a trace - my sister became different!
And seeing her, suddenly my gaze lost
The one that once seemed to me unearthly!
Now suddenly she appeared before me
Ordinary - and the image that a dream
Hermit's love unwittingly clothed
And she removed the cover into a white halo,
Disappeared without a trace ... Love cannot stand
Offensive clarity and always asks for secrets! ..
(by the way, the poetry and translation are very good!)
This is the denouement of the plot. In his foreword, Ellis interprets it as follows:
Love does not experience what is its vital nerve, what nourishes and elevates it, that is, secrets, because “to love” means “to dream,” and the essence of a dream is the incessant creation of a new world, more beautiful and ideal than always too rough and sad reality. A dream is a flower that grows in the mysterious world of the ideal and instantly fades at any contact with reality.
Thus, Tsvetaeva's poem almost "returns" Ellis to his own words. Even the ending of "Mistake": "Your love was such a mistake, - / But without love we die, Sorcerer!" has a correspondence in the words of the Ellis preface: “ Love is always looking for mystery, but mystery always eludes love, and without love, the heart dies - this is the main idea of \u200b\u200bJ. Rodenbach's symbolic drama "The Coverlet"! "
***
This is how much information that was interesting and new to me became available to me only because I initially asked one question: who was Tsvetaeva's poem addressed to? ..
(Used materials of the article by Irina Shevelenko "The literary path of Tsvetaeva")
How often do people make mistakes?
How often do people make mistakes? Of course, mistakes, your own or someone else's, provide an opportunity to learn a lot, but few people think about it, especially in their youth.
It is all the more surprising to turn to the analysis of the poem by 18-year-old Marina Tsvetaeva with just such a title - "Error". Written in 1910, it was included in the first collection of her poems "Evening Album", which received an enthusiastic response from such eminent poets Silver Agelike Nikolay Gumilyov, Valery Bryusov, Maximilian Voloshin.
The poem itself is unusual in form: the first three quatrains begin in the same way - the anaphora "when ..." is used. The poetess chooses three, in her opinion, the most ephemeral creatures of nature - a snowflake, a jellyfish and a moth. Snowflake "That flies easily", you cannot touch it with your hand, because from human warmth "She melts like a tear".
The most important thing is that it cannot be returned to its former airiness: it can only turn into a tiny piece of ice, and then in fact it will become clear that touching a snowflake is a mistake, since it is impossible to restore the lost beauty and fragility.
When "We touch the whim of the hands" jellyfish, "Captivated by its transparency", she will turn pale and die like "Prisoner in bondage"... This comparison sounds very symbolic: the hands, in which, at someone's whim, a jellyfish turns out to be, are comparable to the bonds (shackles!) From which the prisoner cannot escape. And again a mistake occurs: another creation of God dies.
In the third quatrain, there is already a new image - "Wandering moth"... Surprisingly, Tsvetaeva, with the help of the application, endows him with a characteristic: he is not just a moth, he is a wanderer, that is, a wanderer, and in Russia, wanderers were people close to God, seeking the truth (how not to recall the famous wanderer Luka from the play by Maxim Gorky the day!). In addition, this quatrain is no longer a single image, but a lot of moths, which emphasizes how too many wanted "To see not a dream, but an earthly reality" and left their outfit on their fingers - "Dawn painted dust".
And suddenly a sharp transition: "Leave the flight to snowflakes with moths ...!" The heroine is convinced that it is impossible to make a dream come true, because everything that becomes commonplace dies without turning into reality. Probably, it is difficult to disagree with the heroine: the dream must remain unattainable, she must call, beckon, lead.
But this thought is not the most important thing in this poem. As often happens in the works of Marina Tsvetaeva, the main idea is at the end. Paradoxically, a poem about love! And this secret is revealed in the final lines: you cannot demand from a loved one to love as you have dreamed up for yourself. You cannot demand from him the sacrifice for which you are ready. You cannot expect from another such passion, which you are capable of. But when the heroine realizes this, it becomes doubly difficult for her. First, she sees that her lover was "Shaky sadness", that is, fake, ephemeral, like a snowflake, jellyfish or moth.
And secondly, for her it becomes quite certain that his love was also a mistake, because he did not think that in love "To burn, to be mad, to glow".
At the same time, Tsvetaeva's heroine is sure: "But without love we perish"... Obviously, the youthful maximalism of the poetess herself is reflected here, because the poem was written at the age of 18, when you really cannot imagine life without love. Thus, the last line of the poem is contrasted with the entire poem. And in this line it is also surprising that it ends with an appeal to a certain Sorcerer. Perhaps Tsvetaeva was referring to a magician, storyteller, God - in short, anyone who can perform a miracle - to give true love. This address is used at the end of a sentence, which is not typical for the Russian language, and resembles a desperate cry of a person who no longer hopes for anything.
- "I like that you are not sick with me ...", analysis of the poem by Marina Tsvetaeva
- "Granny", analysis of Tsvetaeva's poem
- "Youth", analysis of the poem by Marina Tsvetaeva