The steppes are coldly silent. Mikhail Lermontov - Motherland (I love my fatherland, but with a strange love): Verse


I love my fatherland, but with a strange love! ‎ My reason will not defeat her. ‎‎ ‎ Neither glory bought with blood, nor peace full of proud trust, nor cherished legends of dark antiquity stir in me a joyful dream. ‎‎ But I love - for what, I don’t know myself - ‎‎ Her steppes’ cold silence, ‎‎ Her boundless swaying forests, ‎‎ The floods of her rivers are like seas. On a country road I love to ride in a cart and, with my slow gaze piercing the shadows of the night, meet on the sides, sighing for an overnight stay, the trembling lights of sad villages. ‎‎ ‎ I love the smoke of burnt stubble, ‎‎‎ ‎ A convoy train spends the night in the steppe ‎‎‎ ‎ And on a hill in the middle of a yellow cornfield ‎‎‎ ‎ A pair of whitening birches. ‎‎‎ ‎ With joy, unfamiliar to many, ‎‎‎ ‎ I see a complete threshing floor, ‎‎‎ ‎ A hut covered with straw, ‎‎‎ ‎ A window with carved shutters. ‎‎‎ ‎ And on a holiday, in a dewy evening, ‎‎‎ ‎ I’m ready to watch until midnight ‎‎‎ ‎ To dance with stomping and whistling ‎‎‎ ‎ To the talking of drunken peasants.

The creative heritage of the Russian poet and writer Mikhail Lermontov includes many works that express the author’s civic position. However, the poem “Motherland,” written by Lermontov in 1941, shortly before his death, can be classified as one of the most striking examples of patriotic lyrics of the 19th century.

Writers who were contemporaries of Lermontov can be divided into two categories. Some of them sang the beauty of Russian nature, deliberately turning a blind eye to the problems of the village and serfdom. Others, on the contrary, tried to reveal the vices of society in their works and were known as rebels. Mikhail Lermontov, in turn, tried to find a golden mean in his work, and the poem “Motherland” is rightfully considered the crowning achievement of his desire to express his feelings towards Russia as fully and objectively as possible.

One consists of two parts, different not only in size, but also in concept. The solemn introduction, in which the author declares his love for the Fatherland, is replaced by stanzas that describe the beauty of Russian nature. The author admits that he loves Russia not for its military feats, but for the beauty of nature, originality and bright national color. He clearly distinguishes concepts such as homeland and state, noting that his love is strange and somewhat painful. On the one hand, he admires Russia, its steppes, meadows, rivers and forests. But at the same time, he is aware that the Russian people are still oppressed, and the stratification of society into rich and poor becomes more pronounced with each generation. And the beauty of the native land is not able to veil the “trembling lights of sad villages.”

Researchers of this poet's work are convinced that by nature Mikhail Lermontov was not a sentimental person. In his circle, the poet was known as a bully and a brawler, he loved to mock his fellow soldiers and resolved disputes with the help of a duel. Therefore, it is all the more strange that from his pen were born not bravura patriotic or accusatory lines, but subtle lyrics with a touch of slight sadness. However, there is a logical explanation for this, which some literary critics adhere to. It is believed that people of a creative nature have amazing intuition or, as it is commonly called in literary circles, the gift of foresight. Mikhail Lermontov was no exception and, according to Prince Peter Vyazemsky, he had a presentiment of his death in a duel. That is why he hastened to say goodbye to everything that was dear to him, taking off for a moment the mask of a jester and actor, without which he did not consider it necessary to appear in high society.

However, there is an alternative interpretation of this work, which, undoubtedly, is key in the poet’s work. According to the literary critic Vissarion Belinsky, Mikhail Lermontov not only advocated the need for government reforms, but also foresaw that very soon Russian society with its patriarchal way of life would change completely, completely and irrevocably. Therefore, in the poem “Motherland,” sad and even nostalgic notes slip through, and the main leitmotif of the work, if you read it between the lines, is an appeal to descendants to love Russia as it is. Do not exalt her achievements and merits, do not focus on social vices and imperfections of the political system. After all, homeland and state are two completely different concepts that should not be tried to be brought to a single denominator even with good intentions. Otherwise, love for the Motherland will be seasoned with the bitterness of disappointment, which is what the poet who experienced this feeling was so afraid of.

"I love the Fatherland, but with a strange love"

Perhaps the theme of the homeland is the main one in the work of all great Russian writers. She finds a peculiar refraction in the lyrics of M. Yu. Lermontov. In some ways, his sincere thoughts about Russia coincide with Pushkin’s. Lermontov is also not satisfied with the present of his homeland; he also wishes her freedom. But his lyrics do not contain Pushkin’s ardent optimistic confidence that “she will rise, a star of captivating happiness.” His penetrating and merciless gaze as an artist reveals those negative aspects of Russian life that make the poet feel a sense of hatred towards them and part with his fatherland without any regret.

Goodbye, unwashed Russia,

Country of slaves, country of masters,

And you, blue uniforms,

And you, their devoted people.

In Lermontov’s well-honed, laconic lines, the evil that causes his anger and indignation is concentrated to the utmost. And this evil is slavery of the people, despotism of autocratic power, persecution of dissent, restriction of civil liberties.

A feeling of sorrow for the oppressed homeland permeates the poem "The Turk's Complaints." The acute political content forces the poet to resort to allegory. The title of the poem refers to the despotic state regime of Turkey, in which the national liberation struggle of the Greeks under its rule was carried out. These anti-Turkish sentiments found sympathy in Russian society. At the same time, progressively minded readers understood the true meaning of the poem, which was directed against the hated autocratic-serfdom regime of Russia.

Early life there is hard for people,

There, behind the joys comes reproach,

There a man groans from slavery and chains!..

Friend! this region... my homeland!

Yes, Lermontov was not satisfied with Nikolaev Russia in the 30s of the 19th century, which marked his creative maturity. What fueled Lermontov’s love for his homeland? Perhaps her glorious heroic past? Lermontov, like Pushkin, was admired by the courage, resilience, and patriotism of the Russian people, who defended the freedom of their native country in the terrible years of the Patriotic War of 1812. He dedicated the wonderful poem “Borodino” to the most striking heroic event of this war, which was already history for Lermontov. Admiring the feat of the Russian heroes of the past, the poet involuntarily recalls his generation, which passively endures oppression, making no attempt to change the life of its fatherland for the better.

Yes, there were people in our time

Not like the current tribe:

The heroes are not you!

They got a bad lot:

Not many returned from the field...

If it weren't God's will,

They wouldn't give up Moscow!

In the poem “Motherland,” Lermontov nevertheless says that this “glory bought with blood” cannot give him “a joyful dream.” But why is this poem filled with some kind of bright, Pushkin-like mood? There is no rebellious angry spirit characteristic of Lermontov. Everything is quiet, simple, peaceful. Even the poetic rhythm here gives the work smoothness, slowness and majesty. At the beginning of the poem, Lermontov talks about his “strange” love for his homeland. This oddity lies in the fact that he hates autocratic-serf Russia, the country of “blue uniforms,” and with all his heart he loves the people of Russia, its discreet but charming nature. In "Motherland" the poet paints a people's Russia. Pictures dear to the heart of every Russian person appear before the poet’s mind’s eye.

But I love - for what, I don’t know myself -

Its steppes are coldly silent,

Her boundless forests sway,

The floods of its rivers are like seas.

The artist paints here three successively changing landscape images: the steppe, the forest and the river, which are typical of Russian folklore. After all, in folk songs the steppe is always wide and free. With its immensity and infinity it attracts the poet. The image of a heroic, mighty forest enhances the impression of the power and scope of Russian nature. The third image is a river. Unlike the fast, impetuous mountain rivers of the Caucasus, they are majestic, calm, and full of water. Lermontov emphasizes their strength by comparing them with the seas. This means that the greatness, scope and breadth of his native nature evokes in the poet “pleasant dreams” about the great future of Russia and its people. These reflections of Lermontov echo the thoughts of other great Russian writers - Gogol and Chekhov, who saw in their native nature a reflection of the national spirit of their people. Lermontov's entire poem is permeated with ardent love for rural, rural Russia.

I love the smoke of burnt stubble,

A nomadic convoy in the steppe

And on a hill in the middle of a yellow field

A couple of white birches.

With joy unknown to many

I see a complete threshing floor

A hut covered with straw

Window with carved shutters...

The severity of the people's forced position makes the poet see with particular joy the few “traces of contentment and labor” that still exist in peasant life. He seems to lead the reader with him through the forest and steppes, along a country road to a village, to a simple hut and stops to admire the daring Russian dance “with stomping and whistling to the chatter of drunken peasants.” He is endlessly pleased by the sincere folk fun at the holiday. One can feel the poet’s ardent desire to see the Russian people happy and free. The poet considers only her, people's Russia, his real homeland.

The poem by the late Lermontov, written in 1841, is one of the most significant works of Russian poetry of the 19th century.


(poet, artist, philosopher)

The reason for the creation of the poem was, apparently, the poem “Fatherland” by A. S. Khomyakov, where the greatness of Russia was associated with the humility of the Russian people, their loyalty to Orthodoxy.



(Famous literary critic)

The first known response to Lermontov’s poem, even before its publication, was a letter from the literary critic V. G. Belinsky to V. P. Botkin dated March 13, 1841: “Lermontov is still in St. Petersburg. If his “Motherland” is published, then, Allah Kerim, what a thing - Pushkin’s, that is, one of Pushkin’s best.”.



(publicist, literary critic)

N. A. Dobrolyubov in the article “On the degree of participation of the nationality in the development of Russian literature” noted that Lermontov, “having been able to comprehend early the shortcomings of modern society, I was able to understand that salvation from this false path lies only in the people.” "Proof- the critic wrote, - is served by his amazing poem “Motherland”, in which he becomes decisively above all the prejudices of patriotism and understands love for the fatherland truly, sacredly and rationally”.

What is patriotism? Literally translated from ancient Greek, this word means “fatherland”; if you look even deeper for information, you can understand that it is as ancient as the human race. This is probably why philosophers, statesmen, writers, and poets always talked and argued about him. Among the latter, it is necessary to highlight Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov. He, who survived exile twice, knew like no one else the true price of love for his homeland. And proof of this is his amazing work “Motherland,” which he wrote literally six months before his tragic death in a duel. You can read the poem “Motherland” by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov completely online on our website.

In the poem “Motherland,” Lermontov talks about love for his native patronymic - Russia. But from the very first line the poet warns that his feeling does not correspond to the established “model”. It is not “stamped”, not official, not official, and therefore “strange”. The author goes on to explain his “strangeness.” He says that love, no matter who or what it is, cannot be guided by reason. It is reason that turns it into a lie, demands from it immeasurable sacrifices, blood, tireless worship, glory. In this guise, patriotism does not touch Lermontov’s heart, and even the ancient traditions of humble monastic chroniclers do not penetrate his soul. Then what does the poet love?

The second part of the poem “Motherland” begins with a loud statement that the poet loves no matter what, and the truth of this statement is felt in the words that he himself does not know why. And indeed, a pure feeling cannot be explained or seen. It is inside, and it connects a person, his soul with some invisible thread with all living things. The poet talks about this spiritual, blood, endless connection with the Russian people, land and nature, and thereby contrasts the homeland with the state. But his voice is not accusatory; on the contrary, it is nostalgic, gentle, quiet and even humble. He describes his innermost experience by creating bright, expressive and imaginative pictures of Russian nature (“the boundless swaying of forests,” “sad trees,” “a convoy overnight in the steppe”), as well as through the repeated repetition of the verb “I love”: “I love to gallop in cart”, “I love the smoke of burnt stubble”. It’s now easy to learn the text of Lermontov’s poem “Motherland” and prepare for a literature lesson in the classroom. On our website you can download this work absolutely free.

I love my fatherland, but with a strange love!
My reason will not defeat her.
Nor glory bought with blood,
Nor the peace full of proud trust,
Nor the dark old treasured legends
No joyful dreams stir within me.

But I love - for what, I don’t know myself -
Its steppes are coldly silent,
Her boundless forests sway,
The floods of its rivers are like seas;
On a country road I like to ride in a cart
And, with a slow gaze piercing the shadow of the night,
Meet on the sides, sighing for an overnight stay,
The trembling lights of sad villages;
I love the smoke of burnt stubble,
A convoy spending the night in the steppe
And on a hill in the middle of a yellow field
A couple of white birches.
With joy unknown to many,
I see a complete threshing floor
A hut covered with straw
Window with carved shutters;
And on a holiday, on a dewy evening,
Ready to watch until midnight
To dance with stomping and whistling
Under the talk of drunken men.

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