Yesenin Sergey - sweet hands and a pair of swans. “Dear hands are a pair of swans...” S. Yesenin I too once sang far away

“Dear hands are a pair of swans...” Sergei Yesenin

Dear hands - a pair of swans -
They dive into the gold of my hair.
Everything in this world is made of people
The song of love is sung and repeated.

I sang too once far away
And now I sing about the same thing again,
That's why he breathes deeply
A word imbued with tenderness.

If you love your soul to the bottom,
The heart will become a block of gold,
Only the Tehran moon
It will not warm the songs with warmth.

I don't know how to live my life:
Will I burn out in the caresses of my dear Steps?
Or in old age, tremblingly push
About past song courage?

Everything has its own gait:
What is pleasing to the ear and what is pleasing to the eye.
If a Persian composes a bad song,
This means he is never from Shiraz.

About me and for these songs
Say this among people:
He would sing more tenderly and wonderfully,
Yes, a couple of swans were killed.

Analysis of Yesenin’s poem “Dear hands are a pair of swans...”

Driven by an interest in oriental poetry, Yesenin longed to visit Tehran, then Istanbul, but his plans were not destined to come true. The famous Persian cycle was born during the author’s stay in the Soviet Caucasus in 1924-1925. The central image of the creations, covered in enchanting and mysterious oriental exoticism, was the beautiful Shagane. The imaginary Persian woman has a real prototype - the Armenian arithmetic teacher Shagane Talyan, whom the poet met in Batum.

In Persian poems, the image of a swan, traditional for Yesenin’s poetics, is given a new meaning. Dating back to numerous legends about the swan maiden, it is associated with the hands of a beautiful woman, her harmonious and graceful movements. The “swan hands” of an oriental beauty, similar to wings, appear in the text “In the analyzed work, the expressive image is developed, identified with the charm of the beloved and the captivating power of high feeling.

How does “dear Shaga” appear in the eyes of her chosen one? Faithful, delicate and affectionate, capable of calming the anxiety in the soul of the lyrical “I”. The hero, enchanted and inspired by the bride, composes a song from living words “imbued with tenderness” - his own contribution to the universal and eternal “song of love”, which serves as the basis of a harmonious world.

The quivering idyllic feeling that united the lyrical couple is akin to a rare jewel. This idea is emphasized by the golden range of colors that dominates the artistic text. The first mention is associated with a specific characteristic of the appearance of the subject of speech, the second is a component of an allegorical series about the heart and soul, flowery and thoughtful in an oriental way.

The content of the fourth quatrain violates the peaceful intonations that dominated the first part. The hero decides to report his doubts. In the depths of his soul, two hypostases are fighting, two important roles - a brave poet and a gentle lover. Which one should I give my remaining years? The rhetorical question contains a hint of an answer, as if dictated by an oriental sage: it is funny “in old age” to be sad about what has not come true, exchanging joy for despondency.

The internal conflict is resolved in the last quatrain. The lyrical “I” prefers the inner harmony of intimate relationships, the affectionate support of the swan-like hands of the beloved woman, to the former “song courage” and big name.

Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin

Dear hands - a pair of swans -
They dive into the gold of my hair.
Everything in this world is made of people
The song of love is sung and repeated.

I sang too once far away
And now I sing about the same thing again,
That's why he breathes deeply
A word imbued with tenderness.

If you love your soul to the bottom,
The heart will become a block of gold,
Only the Tehran moon
It will not warm the songs with warmth.

I don't know how to live my life:
Will I burn out in the caresses of my dear Steps?
Or in old age, tremblingly push
About past song courage?

Everything has its own gait:
What is pleasing to the ear, what is pleasing to the eye.
If a Persian composes a bad song,
This means he is never from Shiraz.

About me and for these songs
Say this among people:
He would sing more tenderly and wonderfully,
Yes, a couple of swans were killed.

Sergei Yesenin in the Caucasus (center)

The central image of the creations, covered in enchanting and mysterious oriental exoticism, was the beautiful Shagane. The imaginary Persian woman has a real prototype - the Armenian arithmetic teacher Shagane Talyan, whom the poet met in Batum.

Shagane Talyan

In Persian poems, the image of a swan, traditional for Yesenin’s poetics, is given a new meaning. Dating back to numerous legends about the swan maiden, it is associated with the hands of a beautiful woman, her harmonious and graceful movements. The “swan hands” of the oriental beauty, which look like wings, appear in the text “I have never been to the Bosphorus...”. In the analyzed work, the expressive image is developed, identified with the charm of the beloved and the captivating power of high feeling.

Sergey Yesenin

Dear hands - a pair of swans -
They dive into the gold of my hair.
Everything in this world is made of people
The song of love is sung and repeated.

I sang too once far away
And now I sing about the same thing again,
That's why he breathes deeply
A word imbued with tenderness.

If you love your soul to the bottom,
The heart will become a block of gold.
Only the Tehran moon
It will not warm the songs with warmth.

I don't know how to live my life:
Will I burn out in the caresses of my dear Steps?
Or in old age, tremblingly push
About past song courage?

Everything has its own gait:
What is pleasing to the ear, what is pleasing to the eye.
If a Persian composes a bad song,
This means he is never from Shiraz.

About me and for these songs
Say this among people:
He would sing more tenderly and wonderfully,
Yes, a couple of swans were killed.

Yesenin Sergei Alexandrovich (1895-1925)

Yesenin! Golden name. Murdered youth. Genius of the Russian land! None of the Poets who came into this world had such spiritual strength, enchanting, omnipotent, soul-grabbing childish openness, moral purity, deep pain-love for the Fatherland! So many tears were shed over his poems, so many human souls sympathized and empathized with every Yesenin line, that if it were counted, Yesenin’s poetry would outweigh any and much more! But this method of assessment is not available to earthlings. Although from Parnassus one could see that the people have never loved anyone so much! With Yesenin’s poems they went into battle in the Patriotic War, for his poems they went to Solovki, his poetry excited souls like no other... Only the Lord knows about this holy love of the people for their son. Yesenin’s portrait is squeezed into wall family photo frames, placed on the shrine along with icons...
And not a single Poet in Russia has ever been exterminated or banned with such frenzy and tenacity as Yesenin! And they banned, and kept silent, and belittled, and threw mud at them - and they are still doing this. It is impossible to understand why?
Time has shown: the higher Poetry is in its secret lordship, the more embittered the envious losers are, and the more imitators there are.
Another great gift of God from Yesenin - he read his poems as uniquely as he created them. They sounded like that in his soul! All that remained was to say it. Everyone was shocked by his reading. Please note, great Poets have always been able to read their poems uniquely and by heart - Pushkin and Lermontov... Blok and Gumilyov... Yesenin and Klyuev... Tsvetaeva and Mandelstam... So, young gentlemen, a poet mumbling his lines on a piece of paper from the stage is not a Poet, but an amateur... A poet may not be able to do many things in his life, but not this!
The last poem, “Goodbye, my friend, goodbye...” is another secret of the Poet. In the same year, 1925, there are other lines: “You don’t know that life in the world is worth living!”

Yes, in the deserted city alleys, not only stray dogs, “lesser brothers,” but also big enemies listened to Yesenin’s light gait.
We must know the real truth and not forget how childishly his golden head was thrown back... And again his last wheeze is heard:

“My dears, good ones...”

Please write an analysis of Yesenin’s poem “Dear Hands, a Pair of Swans,” or at least a link to the site

Yesenin cycle Persian motifs. which includes such works as Shagane, you are mine, Shagane. The hands of a cute pair of swans and others reveal to us a feeling of love, inspired and bright, which constitutes the main subject of the image. His heroines are beautiful, like their amazing homeland of Persia, the land of dreams, the land of fairy tales, the eastern saffron paradise with opal skies. Yesenin is interested in various shades and variants of love feelings: jealousy, sadness, love languor, betrayal, love caresses.

Hands of a cute pair of swans. Its theme is love, like the rest of the poems from the Persian Motifs cycle. but this love is unhappy, and this is confirmed by the words:

He would sing more tenderly and wonderfully,

Yes, a couple of swans were killed.

I think the idea of this poem is that if people sing beautifully about love. this does not mean at all that they know about the World Cup they are singing.

Everything in this world is made of people

The song of love is sung and repeated.

People sing about love, about happiness, not yet knowing that grief can happen. As we know, 1925 was the last year in the life of Sergei Yesenin, and since there is a lot of autobiography in his poems, we can assume that he was unhappy because of love. She ruined him.

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cute hands - a pair of swans.

Anna Izryadnova is the poet’s first lover. He was then only 17 years old. In this (civil) marriage Yesenin had a son.

In the spring of 1917, two homeless poets, Sergei Yesenin and Alexei Ganin, spent the night in the editorial office of the newspaper Delo Naroda and became friends with the typist Zina Reich. She went with them on a ship to Solovki. Zinaida paid for the trip; the poets had no money. After a trip to Solovki, Sergei and Zinaida got married. Zinaida Reich - revolutionary, friend of Meyerhold, fell in love with Yesenin, was his wife, gave birth to his daughter Tanyusha!

Reich herself left Yesenin, because Sergei met Isadora in 1921, a year after separation from Zinaida. Zinaida became an actress at the famous Meyerhold Theater. Zinaida Reich wrote a letter to Stalin asking him to tell honestly about the death of Sergei Yesenin. A year later, in 1937, Reich was barbarically killed, stabbed to death...; however, the death of Sergei Yesenin himself is the crime of the century. His head was shot. someone tried to pass off the murder as suicide. ; the poet was found hanged near the stove, and the wound on his forehead was charred by the temperature of the stove, since his face touched it. This happened during Stalin's times.

It was after a three-year affair with Reich, in one of the Moscow mansions, in 1921, that Yesenin met the dancer Isadora Duncan, who was invited to Moscow by the Soviet government to create her own studio. Isadora was 17 years older than Sergei Yesenin. She loved him madly, suffered, worried when the poet drank a lot; a year and a half of painful family life undermined the strength and health of both. Isadora died in 1938 in Nice, the dancer’s long shackle wound around the axle of the car and instantly suffocated her.

It is possible that the poet also married Leo Tolstoy’s granddaughter, Sofya Andreevna, out of love. Without divorcing Isadora Duncan, he (Yesenin) stole Sophia from his friend, the prose writer Boris Pilnik. The marriage lasted less than a year, with Yesenin's month-long stay in Dr. Gannushkin's psychiatric hospital. Sophia loved Yesenin! She said that some drunk and dirty types always stayed in their house. They slept on ottomans, or beds, ate and drank and used Yesenin’s money. But Sonya had no new shoes, no boots, nothing new, everything was old and was being torn down. Returning from the psychiatric hospital, Yesenin stopped by Sophia to pick up his things; and went straight from there to Leningrad, where a few days later he would be found hanged in his Angleterre hotel room. Sofya Tolstaya, Yesenin’s last lover, dedicated her life to the creation of two museums - her husband’s and her great grandfather’s. passed away in 1957.

Based on materials from books and newspapers. Yani Sit

The most beloved and dear to the poet was his mother.

I'm still as gentle

And I only dream about

So that rather from rebellious melancholy

Return to our low house.

(Excerpt from the poem *Letter to Mother*)

Well, kiss me, kiss me,

Even to the point of bleeding, even to pain.

At odds with cold will

Boiling water of heart streams.

Among the merry ones is not for us.

Understand, my friend,

They only live once on earth!

Look around with a calm gaze,

Look: damp in the darkness

The month is like a yellow raven

It circles and soars above the ground.

Well, kiss me! That's how I want it.

Decay sang a song to me too.

Apparently he sensed my death

The one who soars on high.

Until the end of my sweetheart's lips

I would like to kiss.

So that all the time in blue slumbers,

Without being ashamed and without hiding,

In the gentle rustle of bird cherry trees

It was heard: “I am yours.”

And so that the light over the full mug

It didn’t go out with a light foam -

Drink and sing, my friend:

They only live once on earth!

Sweet hands - a pair of swans. Sergey Yesenin

Dear hands - a pair of swans -

They dive into the gold of my hair.

Everything in this world is made of people

The song of love is sung and repeated.

I sang too once far away

And now I sing about the same thing again,

That's why he breathes deeply

A word imbued with tenderness.

If you love your soul to the bottom,

The heart will become a block of gold.

Only the Tehran moon

It will not warm the songs with warmth.

I don't know how to live my life:

Will I burn out in the caresses of my dear Steps?

Or in old age, tremblingly push

About past song courage?

Everything has its own gait:

What is pleasing to the ear and what is pleasing to the eye.

If a Persian composes a bad song,

This means he is never from Shiraz.

About me and for these songs

Say this among people:

He would sing more tenderly and wonderfully,

Yes, a couple of swans were killed.