Online reading of the book Requiem by Anna Akhmatova. Requiem

No! and not under an alien sky

And not under the protection of alien wings, -

I was then with my people,

Where my people, unfortunately, were.

INSTEAD OF A FOREWORD

During the terrible years of the Yezhovshchina, I spent seventeen months in prison lines in Leningrad. One day someone “identified” me. Then a woman with blue lips standing behind me, who, of course, had never heard my name in her life, woke up from the stupor that is characteristic of us all and asked me in my ear (everyone there spoke in a whisper):

– Can you describe this?

And I said:

Then something like a smile crossed what had once been her face.

DEDICATION

Mountains bend before this grief,

The great river does not flow

But the prison gates are strong,

And behind them are “convict holes”

And mortal melancholy.

For someone the wind is blowing fresh,

For someone the sunset is basking -

We don't know, we're the same everywhere

We only hear the hateful grinding of keys

Yes, the soldiers' steps are heavy.

They rose as if to early mass,

They walked through the wild capital,

There we met, more lifeless dead,

The sun is lower and the Neva is foggy,

And hope still sings in the distance.

The verdict... And immediately tears will flow,

Already separated from everyone,

As if with pain the life was taken out of the heart,

As if rudely knocked over,

But she walks... She staggers... Alone.

Where are the involuntary friends now?

My two crazy years?

What do they imagine in the Siberian blizzard?

What do they see in the lunar circle?

To them I send my farewell greetings.

INTRODUCTION

It was when I smiled

Only dead, glad for the peace.

And swayed with an unnecessary pendant

Leningrad is near its prisons.

And when, maddened by torment,

The already condemned regiments were marching,

And a short song of parting

The locomotive whistles sang,

Death stars stood above us

And innocent Rus' writhed

Under bloody boots

And under the black tires there is marusa.

They took you away at dawn

I followed you, as if on a takeaway,

Children were crying in the dark room,

The goddess's candle floated.

There are cold icons on your lips,

Death sweat on the brow... Don't forget!

I will be like the Streltsy wives,

Howl under the Kremlin towers.

Autumn 1935, Moscow

It flows quietly quiet Don,

The yellow moon enters the house.

He walks in with his hat tilted.

Sees the yellow moon shadow.

This woman is sick

This woman is alone.

Husband in the grave, son in prison,

Pray for me.

No, it's not me, it's someone else who's suffering,

I couldn't do that, but what happened

Let the black cloth cover

And let the lanterns be taken away...

I should show you, mocker

And the favorite of all friends,

To the cheerful sinner of Tsarskoye Selo,

What will happen to your life -

Like a three hundredth, with transmission,

You will stand under the Crosses

And with your hot tears

Burn through New Year's ice.

There the prison poplar sways,

And not a sound - but how much is there

Innocent lives are ending...

I've been screaming for seventeen months,

I'm calling you home

I threw myself at the feet of the executioner,

You are my son and my horror.

Everything's messed up forever

And I can't make it out

Now, who is the beast, who is the man,

And how long will it be to wait for execution?

And only lush flowers,

And the censer ringing, and the traces

Somewhere to nowhere.

And he looks straight into my eyes

And it threatens with imminent death

A huge star.

The lungs fly for weeks.

I don’t understand what happened

How do you like going to jail, son?

The white nights looked

How they look again

With the hot eye of a hawk,

About your high cross

And they talk about death.

Spring 1939

SENTENCE

And the stone word fell

On my still living chest.

It's okay, because I was ready

I'll deal with this somehow.

I have a lot to do today:

We must completely kill our memory,

It is necessary for the soul to turn to stone,

We must learn to live again.

Otherwise... The hot rustle of summer

It's like a holiday outside my window.

I've been anticipating this for a long time

Bright day and empty house.

You will come anyway - why not now?

I'm waiting for you - it's very difficult for me.

I turned off the light and opened the door

To you, so simple and wonderful.

Take any form for this,

Burst with a poisoned shell

Or sneak up with a weight like an experienced bandit,

Or poison with typhus child.

Or a fairy tale invented by you

And sickeningly familiar to everyone, -

So that I can see the top of the blue hat

And the building manager, pale with fear.

I don't care now. The Yenisei swirls,

The North Star is shining.

And the blue sparkle of beloved eyes

The final horror is overshadowing.

Madness is already on the wing

Half of my soul was covered,

And he drinks fiery wine,

And beckons to the black valley.

And I realized that he

I must concede victory

Listening to your

Already like someone else's delirium.

And won't allow anything

I should take it with me

(No matter how you beg him

And no matter how you bother me with prayer)!

Nor the son's terrible eyes -

Petrified suffering

Not the day when the thunderstorm came,

Not an hour of prison visiting,

Not the sweet coolness of your hands,

Not a single linden shadow,

Not a distant light sound -

Words of last consolation.

CRUCIFIXION

“Don’t cry for Me, Mother, you will see me in the grave”

1

The choir of angels praised the great hour,

And the skies melted in fire.

He said to his father: “Why did you leave me!”

And to the Mother: “Oh, don’t cry for Me...”

2

She said: “Coming here is like coming home.”

I would like to call everyone by name,

Yes, the list was taken away, and there is no place to find out.

For them I wove a wide cover

From the poor, they have overheard words.

I remember them always and everywhere,

I won’t forget about them even in a new trouble,

And if they shut my exhausted mouth,

To which a hundred million people shout,

May they remember me in the same way

On the eve of my memorial day.

And if ever in this country

They will plan to erect monument to me,

I give my consent to this triumph,

But only with the condition - do not put it

Not near the sea where I was born:

The last connection with the sea is severed,

Not in the royal garden near the treasured stump,

Where the inconsolable shadow is looking for me,

And here, where I stood for three hundred hours

And where they didn’t open the bolt for me.

Then, even in the blessed death I am afraid

Forget the rumble of the black marus,

Forget how hateful the door slammed

And the old woman howled like a wounded animal.

And even from the still and bronze ages,

Melted snow flows like tears,

And let the prison dove drone in the distance,

And the ships sail quietly along the Neva.

March 1940, Fountain House

No, and not under an alien sky,
And not under the protection of alien wings, -
I was then with my people,
Where my people, unfortunately, were.
1961

Instead of a preface

I spent seventeen months during the terrible years of the Yezhovshchina
in prison queues in Leningrad. Once upon a time someone
"identified" me. Then the woman standing behind me who,
of course, you've never heard my name, I woke up from
numbness characteristic of us all and asked me
ear (everyone spoke there in a whisper):
Can you describe this?
And I said:
I can.
Then something like a smile slid across that
was once her face.

Mountains bend before this grief,
The great river does not flow
But the prison gates are strong,
And behind them are “convict holes”
And mortal melancholy.
For someone the wind is blowing fresh,
For someone the sunset is basking -
We don't know, we're the same everywhere
We only hear the hateful grinding of keys
Yes, the soldiers' steps are heavy.
They rose as if to early mass,
They walked through the wild capital,
There we met, more lifeless dead,
The sun is lower and the Neva is foggy,
And hope still sings in the distance.
The verdict... And immediately the tears will flow,
Already separated from everyone,
As if with pain the life was taken out of the heart,
As if rudely knocked over,
But she walks... She staggers... Alone...
Where are the involuntary friends now?
My two crazy years?
What do they imagine in the Siberian blizzard?
What do they see in the lunar circle?
To them I send my farewell greetings.

Introduction

It was when I smiled
Only dead, glad for the peace.
And swayed with an unnecessary pendant
Leningrad is near its prisons.
And when, maddened by torment,
The already condemned regiments were marching,
And a short song of parting
The locomotive whistles sang,
Death stars stood above us
And innocent Rus' writhed
Under bloody boots
And under the black tires there is marusa.

They took you away at dawn
I followed you, as if on a takeaway,
Children were crying in the dark room,
The goddess's candle floated.
There are cold icons on your lips.
The mortal sweat on your brow cannot be forgotten.
I will be like the Streltsy wives,
Howl under the Kremlin towers.

The quiet Don flows quietly,
The yellow moon enters the house.

He walks in with his hat on one side,
Sees the yellow moon shadow.

This woman is sick
This woman is alone

Husband in the grave, son in prison,
Pray for me.

No, it's not me, it's someone else who is suffering.
I couldn't do that, but what happened
Let the black cloth cover
And let them take away the lanterns...
Night.

I should show you, mocker
And the favorite of all friends,
To the cheerful sinner of Tsarskoye Selo,
What will happen to your life -
Like a three hundredth, with transmission,
You will stand under the Crosses
And with my hot tears
Burn through New Year's ice.
There the prison poplar sways,
And not a sound but how much is there
Innocent lives are ending...

I've been screaming for seventeen months,
I'm calling you home.
I threw myself at the feet of the executioner,
You are my son and my horror.
Everything's messed up forever
And I can't make it out
Now, who is the beast, who is the man,
And how long will it be to wait for execution?
And only dusty flowers
And the censer ringing, and the traces
Somewhere to nowhere.
And he looks straight into my eyes
And it threatens with imminent death
A huge star.

Lungs fly for weeks,
I don’t understand what happened.
How do you like going to jail, son?
The white nights looked
How they look again
With the hot eye of a hawk,
About your high cross
And they talk about death.

Sentence

And the stone word fell
On my still living chest.
It's okay, because I was ready
I'll deal with this somehow.

I have a lot to do today:
We must completely kill our memory,
It is necessary for the soul to turn to stone,
We must learn to live again.

Otherwise... The hot rustle of summer,
It's like a holiday outside my window.
I've been anticipating this for a long time
Bright day and empty house.

You will come anyway why not now?
I'm waiting for you, it's very difficult for me.
I turned off the light and opened the door
To you, so simple and wonderful.
Take any form for this,
Burst with a poisoned shell
Or sneak up with a weight like an experienced bandit,
Or poison with typhus child.
Or a fairy tale invented by you
And sickeningly familiar to everyone, -
So that I can see the top of the blue hat
And the building manager, pale with fear.
I don't care now. The Yenisei swirls,
The North Star is shining.
And the blue sparkle of beloved eyes
The final horror is overshadowing.

Madness is already on the wing
Half of my soul was covered,
And drinks fiery wine
And beckons to the black valley.

And I realized that he
I must concede victory
Listening to your
Already like someone else's delirium.

And won't allow anything
I should take it with me
(No matter how you beg him
And no matter how you bother me with prayer):

Nor the son's terrible eyes -
Petrified suffering
Not the day when the thunderstorm came,
Not an hour of prison visiting,

Not the sweet coolness of your hands,
Not a single linden shadow,
Not a distant light sound -
Words of last consolation.

Crucifixion

Don't cry to me, Mati,
I am in the grave.
I

The choir of angels praised the great hour,
And the skies melted in fire.
He said to his father: “Why did you leave me!”
And to the mother: “Oh, don’t cry for Me...”

Magdalene fought and cried,
The beloved student turned to stone,
And where Mother stood silently,
So no one dared to look.

I learned how faces fall,
How fear peeks out from under your eyelids,
Like cuneiform hard pages
Suffering appears on the cheeks,
Like curls of ashen and black
They suddenly become silver,
The smile fades on the lips of the submissive,
And fear trembles in the dry laugh.
And I’m not praying for myself alone,
And about everyone who stood there with me,
And in bitter cold, and in the July heat
Under the blinding red wall.

Once again the funeral hour approached.
I see, I hear, I feel you:

And the one that was barely brought to the window,
And the one that does not trample the earth for the dear one,

And the one who, shaking her beautiful head,
She said: “Coming here is like coming home.”

I would like to call everyone by name,
Yes, the list was taken away, and there is no place to find out.

For them I wove a wide cover
From the poor, they have overheard words.

I remember them always and everywhere,
I won’t forget about them even in a new trouble,

And if they shut my exhausted mouth,
To which a hundred million people shout,

May they remember me in the same way
On the eve of my memorial day.

And if ever in this country
They are planning to erect a monument to me,

I give my consent to this triumph,
But only with the condition do not put it

Not near the sea where I was born:
The last connection with the sea is severed,

Not in the royal garden near the treasured stump,
Where the inconsolable shadow is looking for me,

And here, where I stood for three hundred hours
And where they didn’t open the bolt for me.

Then, even in the blessed death I am afraid
Forget the rumble of the black marus,

Forget how hateful the door slammed
And the old woman howled like a wounded animal.

And let from the still and bronze ages
Melted snow flows like tears,

And let the prison dove drone in the distance,
And the ships sail quietly along the Neva.

Nikolai Ivanovich Yezhov (1895-1940) was a prominent statesman and political figure in the USSR. For services to the country he received government awards: the Order of Lenin, the Order of the Red Banner. He was also awarded the “Honorary Security Officer” badge. On February 4, 1940, according to the verdict of the Military Collegium, Yezhov was shot. In January 1941, he was stripped of all titles and awards.

Fast rise and rapid fall. Hundreds of thousands of USSR party workers experienced this life scenario in the 30s of the 20th century. But Nikolai Ivanovich stands apart in this endless series of people. It was he who was entrusted with the mission to destroy the Leninist guard. When he completed it, he himself was destroyed.

Yezhovshchina- that’s what the years 1937-1938 were called. It was at this time that our hero was the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs, the General Commissioner of State Security. It was in this high position that Nikolai Ivanovich implemented Stalin’s repressions. That is, in essence, he was an ordinary performer, a puppet in the hands of an experienced puppeteer. The same dolls were Khrushchev, Kaganovich, Beria, Kalinin, Voroshilov and many, many thousands of other communists. Those who did not want to be content with the role of a puppet shot themselves. An example of this is Ordzhonikidze.

Our hero did not shoot himself. Careerist motives outweighed moral and human values. Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich received almost unlimited power. He became the second person in the country, and, moreover, at the head of the entire punitive apparatus. All power structures, with the exception of the army, ended up in the hands of this short and pleasant-looking man. Where did he even come from? political scene those years?

Yezhov strangles the hydra of counter-revolution
It was in the “hedgehog gloves” that Nikolai Ivanovich was depicted in newspapers during the Yezhovshchina

The formidable commissioner of state security himself claimed that he was of proletarian origin. His father worked as a simple worker in the foundry of a metallurgical plant in St. Petersburg. Our hero decided to follow in his parent's footsteps and became a mechanic's apprentice. But the archives do not confirm this. In reality, everything was a little different.

Kolya’s father served in the police. The young man himself, upon reaching the age of 18, did not acquire any specialty, but in 1915 he was drafted into the army and went to the front. In the summer of 1916, he was wounded and was sent to the rear unit stationed in Vitebsk. In August 1917 he became a member of the RSDLP. Then he fell ill, received a long leave and went to his parents in the Tver province.

At the beginning of 1919, Nicholas was drafted into the Red Army. Taking into account his party affiliation, he was appointed commissar of the unit. From that time on, our hero’s party career began. In 1927, Nikolai became an instructor in the Organizational Department of the Central Committee. That is, he ended up in Moscow and began working in the apparatus of the Central Committee of the party.

Nikolai Ivanovich has always been distinguished by high discipline, diligence and conscientiousness. He was an ideal apparatchik and felt at home among papers like a fish in water. Thanks to this gift, he rose to the position of Chairman of the Party Control Commission, and then became Secretary of the Central Committee.

Why did Stalin place his bet on Yezhov? The leader had a great understanding of people and apparently saw in the character of the young secretary exactly the qualities that he needed to carry out the bloody mission. High responsibility and thoughtless execution of instructions are what attracted the Father of Nations. Stalin did not need a sadist, he needed a conscientious executor. Our hero was just that.

Nikolai Ivanovich Yezhov began his duties in the NKVD on October 1, 1936. He sat in the chair of the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs and began to steadily carry out Stalin's will. But here we need to take into account the nuance that our hero has never in his life been responsible for any real business. He just prepared documents for his superiors and established control over the execution of these same documents.

That is, he was engaged in purely formal actions. I sent the paper, set deadlines, received a paper confirming that everything was done. Gave or did not give instructions to check execution. That's all the activity. Our hero simply didn’t know how to work any other way, and no one could teach him.

Therefore, Yezhov waged an irreconcilable fight against the “enemies of the people” sincerely, selflessly, but only in the best way he could. That is, on paper and formally. There are three correctly executed denunciations against a person - arrest. There is only one denunciation - leave him free. But what the essence of the denunciation is, why it was written and why - it doesn’t matter. The paper is drawn up correctly, which means everything is correct.

Yezhov Nikolai Ivanovich (in the first row on the left) with NKVD officers. All these people were shot after the removal of the formidable People's Commissar

In his formalism, our hero went so far as to begin investigative actions even against Comrade Molotov, who regularly chaired the Politburo. Why not? Were there any properly executed denunciations against Molotov? Were. Therefore, you need to open a case, establish surveillance, and tap phones.

The investigators treated their work in the same way as their boss. They opened hundreds of thousands of cases, and Nikolai Ivanovich was only happy about it. After all, this is overfulfillment of the task, and in those years the whole country took on increased obligations. However, regular overfulfillment soon became the planned norm. Therefore, higher indicators and standards were lowered from above. In other words, the NKVD worked exactly like the entire Soviet industry. Only behind the victorious numbers were not tons of coal and steel, but living people.

The Yezhovshchina is considered the most powerful repression in the entire history of the USSR. 960 thousand criminal cases were opened against enemies and saboteurs. That is, for every hundred adult men and women, one was arrested. For the sake of objectivity, it should be noted that this figure cannot be compared with the victims of the Cultural Revolution in China or the Pol Pot regime. Which, however, in no way diminishes the guilt of Stalin and Yezhov.

Photo from a Soviet newspaper
Comrade Kalinin presents Yezhov with the Order of Lenin

However, everyone understands that unlimited power corrupts. Our hero could not resist excesses either. His hidden homosexual inclinations awoke, and a craving for noisy evening feasts, expensive things, and jewelry appeared. The inflexible Commissioner of State Security began to slowly and steadily degrade.

But by this time he had already completed his main task. The Leninist Guard was destroyed, and with it the fate of thousands of innocent people flew into the furnace of the revolution. All that remains is to once again state Stalin’s cynicism. In order to destroy a handful of political opponents, he carried out a massacre of hundreds of thousands of people. After all, it was necessary to somehow ideologically justify the reprisal against those who would never recognize him as the leader and genius of all times and peoples.

Nikolai Ivanovich Yezhov adequately completed the task assigned to him. At the same time, he went too far, because he began to arrest those people who were needed by Stalin. All this caused negativity from the leader and other members of the Politburo. The undivided power of the formidable commissioner also aggravated the situation. After all, all the punitive authorities were subordinate to him, and there was no counterweight to them.

Decline of career, November 1938

The Central Committee subsequently corrected this serious mistake. In February 1941, the NKVD was divided into two equal departments. The NKGB and NKVD were formed in a reduced form. After the war, the CPSU Central Committee finally secured its insurance. Within the country, he opposed the KGB to the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and in foreign affairs, the GRU became a counterweight to the KGB. In this way, the party leaders protected themselves from a coup. Otherwise, the minister of power could have taken power into his hands if no one had opposed him.

The clouds began to gather over the People's Commissar of Internal Affairs in April 1938. The first sign was the additional position of People's Commissar of Water Transport. In August, our hero was appointed a new deputy. It was Lavrentiy Beria. On November 23, 1938, Yezhov wrote a letter of resignation, and on December 9 he was relieved of his duties as head of the NKVD, leaving him in the post of People's Commissar of Water Transport. Thus ended the Yezhovshchina.

The former formidable People's Commissar and Commissioner was arrested on April 10, 1939. Accused of preparing a coup d'etat, as well as sodomy. In those years, homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment, and terror was deprived of life. The execution sentence of the military board was read out on February 3, 1940, and the next day it was carried out. They say that a moment before his death, Nikolai Ivanovich shouted: “Long live Stalin!” Maybe this is true, because in the life of the once formidable People's Commissar this man meant almost everything.

About the creative style of the writer. About birth. Averchenko undergoes surgery to remove his eye. Satyricon. King of laughter. Irony. Rich. General history. Mixing. Books by Averchenko. Writer's humor. Perky "red-cheeked" humor. Averchenko as a teenager. Emigration. The story “Characters from the life of Pantelei Grymzin.” Reminder. Dates and titles. Adjutant. Encyclopedia of wit. Extract a quotation from the text. The beginning of literary activity.

"Alighieri" - Took an active part in political life Florence; from June 15 to August 15, 1300 he was a member of the government (he was elected to the position of prior), trying, while fulfilling the position, to prevent the aggravation of the struggle between the parties of the White and Black Guelphs (see Guelphs and Ghibellines). Selfishness is artificial poverty. Dante Alighieri Biography. Dante's family belonged to the urban nobility of Florence. The first years of Dante's exile are among the leaders of the White Guelphs, taking part in the armed and diplomatic struggle with the victorious party.

“Biography and creativity of Anna Akhmatova” - Personality. Statements about Anna Akhmatova. The Queen is a tramp. Funeral of A. Blok. Friends. God. Akhmatova. Statements of outstanding people. “The Royal Word” by Anna Akhmatova. The only name. Mercy is deadly. The dark-skinned youth wandered along the alleys. The main features of the lyrics. Family. Poets " Silver Age" Gold rusts. Tsvetaeva. O. Mandelstam. The name is Anna Akhmatova. Portrait of Akhmatova. Half-nun. This is interesting.

“Writer Aksakov” - Valery Ganichev. Lesson on the works of Sergei Timofeevich Aksakov. Mikhail Chvanov. "Notes on fishing." “A few words about early spring and late autumn fishing.” Sergei Timofeevich Aksakov was born on September 20. Memorial house - museum of S. T. Aksakov. Sophia Alley. Creative task. Anatoly Genatulin. Street named after Aksakov. Autobiographical trilogy"Family Chronicle". Memorial Aksakov sign.

“Aitmatov “Buranny stop”” - Legend. Space history. The problem of caring. Aitmatov's creativity. Communication problem. Boranli. Coming to literature. Buranny stop. Chingiz Torekulovich Aitmatov. Edigey Buranny. Problems of the novel. Poetry of the native hearth. The leitmotif of the novel. Introduction to literature. Titles and awards. Socio-historical problem. Memory problem. The problem of humanity and mercy.

“Innocent of Annensky” - Collection of poems. The seal of fragile subtlety. Biography. Annensky died on November 30, 1909. Natalya Petrovna Annenskaya. Critic. Artistic images. Poet of the Silver Age. Translations of French poets. First publications. Features of the poetic gift. Publications. Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky.