V a n I (in a coachman's jacket). Daddy! who built this road? Pa pasha (in a coat with a red lining), Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling! Conversation in the carriage

Glorious Autumn! Healthy, Vigorous Air tired strength invigorates; The ice is not strong on the icy river As if it lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed, You can sleep - peace and space! The leaves have not yet had time to fade, Are yellow and fresh, like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights, Clear, quiet days… There is no disgrace in nature! And kochi, and mossy swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight, Everywhere I recognize my native Russia ... I am flying fast on cast-iron rails, I think my thoughts ...

Good dad! Why keep Clever Vanya in charm? Let me show him the truth in the moonlight.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge Not on the shoulder alone! There is a king in the world: this king is merciless, Hunger is his name.

He leads the armies; at sea by ships of the Government; he drives people into the artel, Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders of the Stonecutters, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of the people here. Many - in a terrible struggle, Calling these barren jungles to life, They found the coffin here for themselves.

Straight path: narrow embankments, Columns, rails, bridges. And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ... How many of them! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! formidable exclamations were heard! Stomp and gnashing of teeth; A shadow ran across the frosty glass ... What's there? Dead crowd!

Either they overtake the cast-iron road, Either run by the sides. Can you hear the singing ?. “On this moonlit night Love us to see our work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold, With always bent backs, We lived in dugouts, fought against hunger, Frozen and wet, we had scurvy.

We were robbed by the literate foremen, The bosses were crushed by the need ... We have endured everything, God's warriors, Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits! We are destined to rot in the earth ... Do you remember all of us, the poor, or have you forgotten it long ago?

Do not be terrified by their wild singing! From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka, From different ends of the great state - These are all your brothers - men!

It is a shame to be timid, to be covered with a glove, You are not small! .. With Russian hair, You see, standing, exhausted by fever, Tall, sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids, Ulcers on skinny arms, Forever knee-deep in water Legs swollen; tangled hair;

I will poke my chest that I diligently put on the spade Day after day I spent the whole century ... You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully: It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

He has not straightened his hunchbacked back, He is still: stupidly silent And mechanically with a rusty shovel He hollows the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work We would not be bad to adopt with you ... Bless the work of the people And learn to respect the peasant.

Do not be shy for your dear homeland ... He has endured enough of the Russian people, Brought out this railroad too - Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

It will endure everything - and will pave the way for itself with a wide, clear Breast. It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time. You won't have to - neither me, nor you.

At that moment the deafening whistle Squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared! “I saw, dad, I am an amazing dream, - Vanya said, - five thousand men,

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds suddenly appeared - and he said to me: "Here they are - builders of our road! .." The general laughed!

“I was recently within the walls of the Vatican, I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights, I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna, Well… did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh, Your logic is a little wild. Or is Apollo Belvedere for you Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these baths and baths, Wonder of art - he took everything away! "-" I am not talking for you, but for Vanya ... "But the general did not give an objection:

“Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic Do not create - destroy the master, Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! .. However, it's time to get busy with Vanyusha;

You know, by the spectacle of death, sorrow, it is a sin to disturb a child's heart. You would show your child the Light Side now ... "

Glad to show! Listen, my dear: the fateful works of Konchens - the German is already laying the rails. The dead are buried in the ground; the sick are hidden in dugouts; working people

He gathered in a close crowd at the office ... They scratched their heads tightly: Each contractor must stay, They have become a penny of days off!

The foremen wrote everything down in a book - did he take it to the bathhouse, did the patient lie down: “Maybe there’s now too much here, come on! ..” They waved their hand ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet, Thick, squat, red as copper, A contractor goes along the line on a holiday, Goes to see his work.

The idle people make way decorously ... The merchant wipes the sweat from his face And he says, putting his hands on his hips in a picturesque manner: “Okay ... no matter ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now go home - congratulations! (Hats off - if I say!) I expose a barrel of wine to the workers And - I give arrears _! .. "

Someone shouted "hurray". They picked it up Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look: The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ... Here even the lazy one could not resist!

The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant With a cry of "hurray!" rushed along the road ... It seems difficult to draw a more gratifying picture, General ?.

Vania (in a coachman's jacket).
Daddy! who built this road?
Daddy (in a coat with a red lining).
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling!

Conversation in the carriage

I

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired strength;
Ice is not strong on the cold river
Like melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days ...
There is no disgrace in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my native Russia ...
I fly fast on cast-iron rails,
I think my thought ...

II

“Good dad! Why in charm
Keep a smart Vanya?
Let me be with the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge, -
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads the armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people into the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonecutters, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle
Calling these barren wilds to life,
They found their coffin here.

Straight path: narrow embankments,
Posts, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many there are! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! formidable exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across frosty glass ...
What is there? Dead crowd!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
They run by sides.
Do you hear the singing? .. „On this moonlit night
Love us to see our work!

We struggled in the heat, in the cold,
With your back always bent
We lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Frozen and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses whipped, the need pressed ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the ground ...
Do you remember all of us, the poor
Or forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be terrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to be covered with a glove.
You’re not small! .. Rus hair,
You see, standing, emaciated with fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangled hair;

I will wash my chest, which is diligently on the spade
I spent the whole century day after day ...
You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
Hollow ground hollows!

This noble work habit
It would not be bad for us to adopt ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Don't be shy for your dear homeland ...
Endured enough Russian people,
He took out this railroad too -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will make a way for himself with his chest.
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me, nor you. "

III

The whistle is deafening this minute
Screamed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
“I saw, father, I am an amazing dream, -
Vanya said, - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and it he told me:
"Here they are - the builders of our road! .." "
The general burst out laughing!

I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
What ... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or Apollo Belvedere for you
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything apart! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya ..."
But the general did not give an objection:

Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, a spectacle of death, sorrow
It is a sin to resent a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side ... -

IV

“Glad to show!
Listen, my dear: fateful works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads tightly:
Every contractor should stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything in the book -
Did he take to the bathhouse, did the patient lie:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Come on! .. “They waved their hand ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squishy, \u200b\u200bred as copper,
The contractor rides along the line on a holiday,
Goes to see his work.

Idle people make way decorously ...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo:
“Okay ... no matter ... well done! .. well done! ..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - i give arrears! ..“

Someone "hurray" shouted. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look:
The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ...
Here even the lazy one could not resist!

The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant
With a shout of "hurray!" Rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to see the picture
Draw, General? .. "

V a n I (in a coachman's army jacket).
Daddy! who built this road?
Pa pasha (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, darling!
Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired strength;
Ice is not strong on the cold river
Like melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days ...
There is no disgrace in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my native Russia ...
I fly fast on cast-iron rails,
I think my thought ...

Good dad! Why in charm
Keep a smart Vanya?
Let me be with the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.

He leads the armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people into the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonecutters, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle
Calling these barren wilds to life,
They found their coffin here.

Straight path: narrow embankments,
Posts, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many there are! Vanya, do you know?

Chu! formidable exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across frosty glass ...
What is there? Dead crowd!

They overtake the cast-iron road,
They run by sides.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
Love us to see our work!

We struggled in the heat, in the cold,
With your back always bent
We lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Frozen and wet, sick with scurvy.

We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses whipped, the need pressed ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the ground ...
Do you remember all of us, the poor
Or forgotten for a long time? .. "

Do not be terrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be shy, to be covered with a glove,
You’re not small! .. Rus hair,
You see, standing, emaciated with fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangled hair;

I will wash my chest, which is diligently on the spade
I spent the whole century day after day ...
You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!

Didn't straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
Hollow ground hollows!

This noble work habit
It would not be bad for us to adopt ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.

Don't be shy for your dear homeland ...
Endured enough Russian people,
He took out this railroad too -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!

Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will make a way for himself with his chest.
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me, nor you.

The whistle is deafening this minute
Screamed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I am an amazing dream, -
Vanya said, - five thousand men,

Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and it he told me:
"Here they are - builders of our road! .."
The general burst out laughing!

"I was recently within the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
What ... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or Apollo Belvedere for you
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything apart! "-
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya ..."
But the general did not give an objection:

"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, a spectacle of death, sorrow
It is a sin to resent a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side ... "

Glad to show!
Listen, my dear: fateful works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads tightly:
Every contractor should stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything in the book -
Did he take to the bathhouse, did the patient lie:
"Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Why, come on! .. "They waved their hand ...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squishy, \u200b\u200bred as copper,
The contractor rides along the line on a holiday,
Goes to see his work.

Idle people make way decorously ...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo:
"Okay ... nest about... well done and! .. well done and!..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - i give arrears!.."

Someone yelled "hurray". Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look:
The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ...
Here even the lazy one could not resist!

The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant
Shouting "Hurray!" rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to see the picture
Draw, General? ..

I don’t know how anyone, but I like Nekrasov's “ Railway". Its populist pathos and the theme of "Russian bones" on the sides of the railway line look so naive when viewed from our time. Whatever you say, we will all go to bed with bones, but the question is - why.

“… What is there? - The crowd of the dead.

They overtake the cast-iron road,

They run by the sides ...

Can you hear them singing? “On this moonlit night

Love us to see our work ... "

Proud "we love to see our work", with intent or without it, escaped from Nekrasov, it means something. The Nikolaev road was built by those who at least understood that they were participating not in burying the best forces of the nation in some "dead road" near Igarka, but in an incredible technical breakthrough in Russia. A breakthrough that put the huge Asian empire on a par with the European powers. The road and its facilities are solidly built and - it cannot be denied - beautifully. Moreover, according to the latest architectural fashion.

How many would not have assured Nekrasov that the Nikolaev road was built on bones, you cannot believe it. He himself does not believe, inhaling the aroma of his beloved country from the window of a cold and still rather imperfect carriage of the 1860s. (albeit first class, and in what else do the generals and editors-populists go). This road has an easy way, at least here, on the Tver section. The road goes through a long-lived populated area; in the middle of the 19th century there was already a wide opolye with copses. Tver is the only 1st class station on the Nikolaev road (except for the capitals, of course), where the city corresponds to the station.

This is not at all an obvious fact. It was like this. The road is laid strictly along a compass and a ruler, we divide 650 versts by 160 km (the maximum distance of a steam locomotive in the middle of the 19th century), we get five main stations (Moscow, Tver, Bologoye, Malaya Vishera, Petersburg) - both locomotives change at these stations. Then, between these stations, we build stations of the 2nd class (Klin, Spirovo, Lyuban, Okulovka) - one locomotive was changed for them. Between stations of 1 and 2 classes - stations of 3 classes (Vyshny Volochek, Likhoslavl, Zavidovo, Lykoshino, etc.) and between stations of these three classes - 4 classes (Kulitskaya, Kuzminka, Berezaika, Osechenka, etc.). At stations of 3-4 classes, steam locomotives were filled with water and coal, at stations of class 3, one steam locomotive could be replaced if necessary. Locomotives during the time of Nicholas I could not boast of a long autonomous resource... The value of the settlement was not taken into account when choosing the station class. Tver was lucky. A full-fledged railway infrastructure appeared in the vicinity of big city... In addition to the increase in population at the expense of factory workers, the city also grew by the railroad.

The railway is a different world in relation to the city. Sometimes, when the road cuts through the historic body of the city (as in Yaroslavl or in the south and southeast of Moscow), their synthesis creates a striking architectural game. And it's a pity that there is no such thing in Tver. Our road is a strict straight line that leaves the city aside. She primly does not intend to participate in any way in the urban environment. She is nearby - but the center of Tver does not see her. Tver is closed in front of the railway. As, however, and any other settlement on the Nikolaev road. You cannot imagine the originality of Klin, Vyshny Volochek, and even Bologoye, if you look at them from the train window. But don't be upset. But the railway itself opens to you.

Its great Russian engineering architecture, its beautiful buildings, residential and industrial - all this is in the palm of your hand (it was not long ago, now it was ugly blocked off with blank fences, by the way, hated even by many railway workers, especially the older generation). Fences are a futile attempt to save money: less people, fewer caretakers - less money. Such savings are hardly justified. So the steam locomotive (by the way, also historical) is cut off at the station from the city and from the people, separated as if by a screen.

The city also "takes revenge" on the railroad that "does not see" it. He does not participate in its landscape in any way, and at the philistine level he is indifferent to the space where the mysterious life of road workers passes. How many townspeople know that the depot of the Tver station was built already in the 1840s, and its architectural merits compete with the best Empire buildings in Russia? How many people know that in the village of railway workers (on the street of the same name) there are wooden houses of the middle of the 19th century, a rarity and great value by the standards of any Russian city, and there are two dozen of them, including those decorated with fine openwork carvings.

And the water tower of 1847? What about a wonderful oil pipeline, later, but no less beautiful from that?

A monumental railway school? And the station itself - the 1st class island station, now being restored? We have this amazing treasure at our side. But it's somehow awkward to say: "Tver has." Rather, it has a railway (Russian Railways) ...

In our time, when the railway is amazingly indifferent to its heritage, on occasion gladly "dumping" their houses to municipalities along with residents and their problems, the fate of many old buildings is unenviable. They, standing for a hundred and fifty years, built from the strongest wood and brick, decay and die in a few years. While they are still there. And again - hurry up to see them. Hurry up to see as much as possible on the railroad. From which cut steam locomotive or diesel locomotive was scrap left near the Tver circular depot? Hey ...

In the last year or two, with the idea of \u200b\u200bbuilding a road bridge parallel to the railway and the new station, the city and the railway are again invited to “make friends”. How this idea will come true, I cannot say. As well as at what cost: what will once again be destroyed without any sense.

The peasants at Nekrasov's, if you remember, sing:

“... Do you remember all of us, the poor

Or forgotten for a long time? "

What then? And we will remember.

Near the railway station Tver there are several crossings over the iron pot. But there is only one historical one, on the site of the current alignment of Volokolamsky Prospekt. The embankment there is historical, and before the concrete bridge there was a "humped" wooden bridge. My great-grandmother, Anna Dmitrievna, always with fear and crossing herself rode through it. Because the locomotive, although it covered the firebox under the bridge (and how many bridges burned out from the locomotive sparks!), Was still so terrible that the horse, who happened to be on the bridge at that moment, could carry it. And so it happened, and one of her village neighbors died like that, unable to restrain an animal distraught with fear ... (this old bridge, here, in the German picture from the "frame" is clearly visible).

Anna Dmitrievna traveled in the 1930s. over that bridge often. The cannibalistic Soviet tax, which the individual farmers paid, was such that they had to sell everything that was possible, just to buy food on the market - and turn it over as tax. But she joined the collective farm only in the 1940s, when the last youngest son was guaranteed to find a job in the city. And before that - no way, daughter of a railway worker, but into slavery! But at the same time she still had, even before the occupation: a chest with scarves and shawls, and picture books, and a pre-revolutionary color atlas of the world (the Germans took it, although my grandmother, almost a girl in 1941, was ready to scratch them in impotent rage - and the Germans just laughed, it seemed very funny to them). Family post-war photo - Anna Dmitrievna in a widow's dress in the center, as the most honorable member of the family.

And only photographs remained, and there was still a house, once the best in the village, built in the early 1920s by my great-grandfather, a former railway ... switchman. Just a switchman. His great-grandfather, Vasily Ivanov, fortunately, did not live to see the collective farms for a year or two. He was engaged in agronomy and hunting at his leisure, was well-read, and by rural standards he was very educated, like his father-in-law, Dmitry Kozmin, whose place Vasily Ivanovich took over in the early 1900s. Dmitry Kozmin was one of those who went to work in the iron pot when, in the 1870s, they began to hire peasants for lower positions for hire. And usually they took those who built it. Because the others were superstitiously afraid of her for twenty years after construction.

So not only were they "freezing and wet, they were sick with scurvy." The great Russian engineers Pavel Melnikov and Nikolai Kraft, who were in charge of the construction, made incredible efforts to preserve the health of the builders. But what could two people do against the indifference of the state machine and the disregard for the peasants themselves ?! But, burying the dead, hiding the sick, drinking in joy, the men quickly appreciated the benefits of the new miracle of technology. And the city of Tver sharply grew in area towards the railroad, already before 1917 it stepped far to the south.

“... This noble work habit

It would not be bad for us to adopt ...

Bless the work of the people

And learn to respect the man.

Don't be shy for your dear homeland ...

Endured enough Russian people,

He took out this railroad too -

Whatever the Lord sends! "

I want to believe it ...

Pavel Ivanov

To be continued.

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired strength;
Ice is not strong on the cold river
Like melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Are yellow and fresh like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days ...
There is no disgrace in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my native Russia ...
I fly fast on cast-iron rails,
I think my thought ...

II

“Good dad! Why in charm
Keep a smart Vanya?
Let me be with the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly huge, -
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads the armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people into the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonecutters, weavers.
It was he who drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle
Calling these barren wilds to life,
They found their coffin here.
Straight path: narrow embankments,
Posts, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many there are! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! formidable exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass ...
What is there? Dead crowd!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
They run by sides.
Do you hear the singing? .. „On this moonlit night
Love us to see our work!
We struggled in the heat, in the cold,
With your back always bent
We lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Frozen and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses whipped, the need pressed ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the ground ...
Do you remember all of us poor
Or forgotten for a long time? .. "
Do not be dismayed by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to be covered with a glove.
You’re not small! .. Rus hair,
You see, standing, emaciated with fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:
Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangled hair;
I will wash my chest, which is diligently on the spade
I spent the whole century day after day ...
You take a closer look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
Hollow ground hollows!
This noble work habit
It would not be bad for us to adopt ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Don't be shy for your dear homeland ...
Endured enough Russian people,
He carried this railroad too -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will make a way for himself with his chest.
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to - neither me, nor you. "

III

The whistle is deafening this minute
Screamed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
“I saw, father, I am an amazing dream, -
Vanya said, - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and it he told me:
"Here they are - builders of our road! .." "
The general burst out laughing!
- I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
What ... did the people create all this?
Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or Apollo Belvedere for you
Worse than a stove pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything apart! -
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya ..."
But the general did not give an objection:
- Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and Germanic
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild bunch of drunks! ..
However, it's time to take Vanyusha;
You know, a spectacle of death, sorrow
It is a sin to resent a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side ... -

IV

“Glad to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads tightly:
Every contractor should stay,
Walking days have become a penny!
The foremen entered everything in the book -
Did he take to the bathhouse, did the patient lie:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Come on! .. “They waved their hand ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squishy, \u200b\u200bred as copper,
The contractor rides along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
Idle people make way decorously ...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo:
“Okay ... no matter ... well done! .. well done! ..
With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - i give arrears! ..“
Someone "hurray" shouted. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer ... Look:
The foremen rolled the barrel with the song ...
Here even the lazy one could not resist!
The people unharnessed their horses - and the merchant
With a shout of "hurray!" Rushed along the road ...
Seems hard to see the picture
Draw, General? .. "