1.Introduction……………………………………………………………………..3

2.Byron's lyrics………………………………………………………. .5

3. The innovation of Byron’s lyrics………………………………………………………7

4. Conclusion………………………………………………………. ………………..15

5. List of used literature…………………………………..16

Introduction

The work of the great English poet Byron entered the history of world literature as an outstanding artistic phenomenon associated with the era of romanticism. A new direction in art that emerged in Western Europe at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries was a reaction to the French Revolution and the Enlightenment associated with it.

Dissatisfaction with the results of the French Revolution and the strengthening of political reaction in European countries after it turned out to be suitable soil for the development of romanticism. Among the romantics, some called on society to return to the previous patriarchal way of life, to the Middle Ages and, refusing to solve the pressing problems of our time, went into the world of religious mysticism; others expressed the interests of the democratic and revolutionary masses, calling for the continuation of the work of the French Revolution and the implementation of the ideas of freedom, equality and fraternity. An ardent defender of the national liberation movement of peoples, an exposer of tyranny and the policy of wars of conquest, Byron became one of the leading founders of the progressive trend in romanticism. The innovative spirit of Byron's poetry, his artistic method of a new type of romanticism was picked up and developed by subsequent generations of poets and writers of various national literatures.

Byron's work was innovative, it contained ideas that excited both his contemporaries and subsequent generations. What was left unsaid and not understood by Byron was explained or gave rise to new disputes, but his work always disturbed minds and awakened imagination. And the poet, as if foreseeing this, said:

I didn’t live in vain!

Although, perhaps, under a storm of adversity,

Broken by the struggle, I will fade away early,

But there's something in me that won't die

What neither death nor time flight,

Neither slander will destroy enemies,

What will come to life in a multiple echo...

Byron's lyrics

The name of Lord George Gordon Byron is associated with the English language and English literature. It is perhaps difficult now to imagine what this mysteriously disappointed pilgrim, chosen one and exile, idol and demon rolled into one, meant to his contemporaries. His charm bordered on magnetism, his image was legendary. Under the sign of Byron, literature, music and the art of romanticism developed, beliefs, way of thinking, and behavior were formed. He was, along with Napoleon, the idol of his era, being the most prominent personality among the great poets of England at the beginning of the 19th century.

With the exception of Shakespeare, Byron, of all English poets, is the one whom Russian readers know best. But in his own country his position is not so secure for a number of reasons.

First, there was a protest against Byron's brutal war against the tyranny and hypocrisy of the Church and Estate (which was thinly disguised as a protest against the poet's supposed immorality). Then, in the second half of the 19th century, during the dominance of the “Arts for the benefit of art” program, Byron’s poetry, as N. Dyakonova writes, “was declared technically limited, unmusical and old-fashioned.” The complete injustice of this opinion is all too obvious. The prejudice of aesthetes - poets and critics - was rooted against all poetry with a clear meaning, a direct exhibition of social and ethical concepts. In addition, the poets of the second half of the century, especially the aesthetic school, followed the example of Byron's romantic contemporaries more than his. The subsequent development of much of English poetry continued in the opposite direction to that taken by Byron. Therefore, in England his art was and is still criticized as belonging to an era of the past and different from modern trends. No one in England caused such an explosion of conflicting feelings as Byron. He was idolized - and cursed, exalted to heaven - and mixed with dirt, proclaimed a genius - and mediocrity. In relation to Byron, a number of evaluative epithets have developed - deep, dark, strong, powerful, and at the same time - monotonous. One of the first in Russia (in an article in 1824) was V.K. Kuchelbecker contrasted “the huge Shakespeare and the monotonous Byron.” Pushkin saw the primary source of this widespread opinion about Byron’s monotony in English criticism, which more than once testified to the one-sidedness of Byron’s talent, even while marveling at the strength of the poet, who, according to W. Scott, was able to “bring the same character onto the public stage again and again.” , which does not seem monotonous only thanks to the powerful genius of its author." In Byron's art, romantic individualism struggled with his taste for classical poetry, whose harmony, symmetry and correctness he considered as a variant of the construction of his rationalist ideals. Despite the huge amount of critical literature devoted to Byron's work, not much literature has been devoted to the analysis of his purely lyrical theme, its features and linguistic analysis. Byron's love lyrics were partly obscured by the great shadow of his dramatic works and poems, of which they were a part. As I. Shaitanov noted, “the replication of the Byronic hero created Byronism, from which it is still difficult to separate Byron. The hero overshadowed the author. In relation to creativity, the same formula can be expressed as follows: the poem overshadowed the lyrics. And within the genre of the poem: the narrative, plot principle prevailed over the lyrical assessment." Seen in this way, Byron looked monotonous. Therefore, it seems an urgent task to try to fill this gap, proving the innovation, modernity and specificity of the love theme in the lyrics of the English classic. "Reread Byron today in to a large extent means to see him as a lyricist"

Innovation in lyrics

Byron's innovation, which was expressed with such force in his poems, manifests itself in these years in the field of lyric poetry, in particular in love lyrics. With the end of the Renaissance, English lyric poetry for a long time lost that feeling of the inextricable unity of the spiritual and carnal principles, without which love lyrics cannot convey the living voice of human passion. The loss of this integrity was facilitated by both the influence of Puritanism, under the banner of which the bourgeois revolution of the 17th century was carried out, and the cynical licentiousness that was opposed to Puritanism by the aristocratic literature of the Restoration. In the 18th century, this gap was legitimized by literary tradition and consolidated by the division of lyrical genres. “High” passion, speaking in the lofty language of classicist abstractions, is poured out in rhetorical, pompous and cold elegies and messages. And the earthly joys of love turn out to be primarily the subject of “comic”, frivolous, and often naturalistically crude poetry. Burns, the great poet of the Scottish people, was the first to overcome this gap and return to written poetry that unity of spiritual and physical that has always lived in oral folklore. Byron, who highly valued Burns, follows his example in the natural expression of lyrical feeling. The sensual fervor" of his poetry, noted by Engels, does not exclude, but presupposes sincerity and depth. Inherited by Byron from Enlightenment materialism, contrary to the idealistic reaction of his time, respect for the earthly natural man, recognition of the legitimacy of all his natural rights and aspirations, forms the ideological subtext of his love lyrics. In contrast to the poetry of reactionary romanticism, where love was presented as a melancholic and even, by its very earthly nature, fatal and tragic feeling, Byron's love lyrics reveal a bright, beautiful ideal of man.

At the heart of Byron's love lyrics is his passionate defense of the human right to the fullness of this generous earthly happiness.

Byron's lyrics owe much to folklore; the poet loved folk songs and willingly translated them. The closeness to folk songs is manifested in the artlessness, simplicity and power of expression of feelings, and in the melodiousness of his love lyrics. Many of his stanzas are set to music.

It is in Byron's lyric poetry - in the "Jewish Melodies" and in the so-called "Napoleonic" lyrical cycle - that in these same years the ways of overcoming the individualistic rebellion of the "Eastern poems" are most clearly outlined. "Jewish Melodies" was written by Byron at the turn of 1814-1815. The copyright was given by Byron to the young composer Isaac Nathan, who, together with another composer, I. Bram, set “Hebrew Melodies” to music.

One of the most famous works of this cycle is the work “My Soul is Gloomy”. In his work, the author touches on the theme of suffering, bitterness, sadness accumulated in the soul. Before us stands the image of a hero, killed by his grief, but nevertheless, not completely despairing. He still hopes that “the sounds of heaven will awaken in his chest.” The lyrical hero does not come to terms with the fact that “the terrible hour has come.” On the contrary, he sees the meaning of his life in confronting the “terrible hour.” He longs for tears only because this is the only way he can awaken hope in his chest and get rid of suffering.

The lyrical hero pronounces a call that expresses his desire to get away from unbridled fun, in which he sees only torment and suffering. It sounds like a riot of life, which emphasizes his masculinity and the nature of a true fighter.

"Song for the Luddites." Luddites in England at the beginning of the 19th century were workers who fought for a better life for themselves. Ordinary people in England at that time lived very poorly. They worked a lot (twelve to fourteen hours) and received very little money. There were a lot of women and small children in factories at that time. I especially feel sorry for the children. They could not study and often could not even read or write. From early childhood they had to work equally with adults so that they could survive in basic terms.

The Luddites opposed such orders, against the owners of factories and factories. They disabled cars and organized demonstrations to protest against the hard life. They were called Luddites because they had a legendary leader named Ludd. Nobody knows if he really existed. But, like another folk hero Robin Hood, he was a symbol of the struggle for freedom. George Byron wrote his poem about these people. It begins with these words:

As once for freedom in an overseas land

The blood ransom was paid by the poor people,

So we will buy our will.

We will live free or we will fall in battle!

Death to the lords! Hail Ludd!

In these lines, George Byron reminds the workers of how their brothers in North America fought for freedom. Then, at the end of the 18th century, the inhabitants of the North American colonies rebelled against the power of the English king and won freedom with arms in their hands. The king sent troops against them, but they won and founded an independent country - the United States of America.

So Byron calls on the workers of England to follow the example of the colonists: take up arms and go into battle against the oppressors.

He believed that people must be free or die fighting for freedom. But you cannot live as slaves. We need to fight our oppressors:

We will weave linen for the tyrant's shroud,

We'll take up arms later.

Death is destined for the oppressors!

And we will fill up our dye vat,

But not with paint, but with blood.

Byron believed that only with arms in hand can a person win freedom. And the blood that people shed, fighting for their will, is not shed in vain:

This stinking blood is like life-giving ooze,

He will fertilize our soil, and on that glorious day

Renewed, filled with strength

The Liberty Oak that Ludd once planted,

And it will spread its canopy over the world.

Byron spoke and wrote extensively in support of Greece. At that time, this country was under the rule of the Ottoman Empire, but the Greeks often rebelled against the Turkish yoke. For them, Byron wrote his famous “Song of the Greek Rebels.”

In this poem, he calls on the Greeks to bravely fight for their freedom and reminds them of the heroes of Ancient Greece. For example, he talks in it about the feat of the Spartans under the leadership of King Leonidas. They all died in the Thermopylae Gorge, defending the road to Greece. The Persians promised them life and wealth if they surrendered, but they proudly refused. They preferred to die free than to live as slaves. So Byron calls on the Greeks of his time to be the same:

Discard with contempt, Greeks,

Turkish yoke,

Blood of the enemy forever

Wash away the slave stigma!..

To arms! To victories!

Heroes know no fear.

Let him follow us

The blood of tyrants flows.

The poem “Prometheus” was also written on this topic. Here Byron used the ancient legend of Prometheus, a fighter against the tyranny of the gods, for the happiness of mankind. The image of this titan was one of the favorite images of Byron and his friend Shelley. Prometheus “always occupied my thoughts,” Byron admitted. He turned to his image in his youthful translations from Greek and in such mature works as “The Bronze Age” and “Don Juan”. The poem “Prometheus” calls for resistance to tyranny, exalting the noble feat of the titan - the protector and patron of people.

Northern Italy languished under the heel of Austria; its central and southern parts were fragmented into a number of despotic states in which feudal orders prevailed. Byron becomes close to members of the secret society of the Carbonari, with whose participation an armed uprising was being prepared. “Italy is loaded, and many are itching to pull the trigger,” Byron says in one of his letters. He takes an active, practical part in the Carbonara movement, helps Italian patriots with money, and weapons are hidden in his house in preparation for an uprising. The liberation of Italy for Byron becomes a “great thing.”

Short description

The work of the great English poet Byron entered the history of world literature as an outstanding artistic phenomenon associated with the era of romanticism. A new direction in art that emerged in Western Europe at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries was a reaction to the French Revolution and the Enlightenment associated with it.
Dissatisfaction with the results of the French Revolution and the strengthening of political reaction in European countries after it turned out to be suitable soil for the development of romanticism. Among the romantics, some called on society to return to the previous patriarchal way of life, to the Middle Ages and, refusing to solve the pressing problems of our time, went into the world of religious mysticism; others expressed the interests of the democratic and revolutionary masses, calling for the continuation of the work of the French Revolution and the implementation of the ideas of freedom, equality and fraternity.

Simultaneously with romantic poems Byron created love and heroic lyrics, to which the cycle “Jewish Melodies” belongs. The poet knew and loved the Bible well from childhood and in “Jewish Melodies”, turning to biblical motifs in the poems “On the Sacred Harp...”, “Saul”, “Jeuthai’s Daughter”, “Vision of Belshazzar”, maintaining the imagery and plot basis of the episodes, taken from this monument of ancient literature, conveyed their epicness and lyricism. The whole cycle is united by a general mood, mostly sadness and melancholy. "Jewish Melodies" were written for the composer Isaac Nathan, who, together with the composer Breghem, set them to music.

It was during this period, after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo and the subsequent political events in England and France, that Byron wrote a number of works about Napoleon - “Napoleon’s Farewell”, “From the French”, “Ode from the French”, “Star of the Legion of Honor” . References to the French source were made by the author in order to ward off accusations of disloyalty to the government from the newspapers where these works were published. In the cycle about Napoleon, Byron took a clear anti-chauvinist position, believing that England, waging war with France and Napoleon, brought many disasters to its people.

Byron's love lyrics of 1813 - 1817 are distinguished by their extraordinary richness and diversity: nobility, tenderness, and deep humanity constitute its distinctive features. This is lyricism, devoid of any mysticism, false fantasy, asceticism, or religiosity.

In the collection “Jewish Melodies” Byron creates his ideal of love. When speaking about the humanism of Byron's lyric poems, one must first of all keep in mind the spirit of freedom and struggle with which they are filled.

In such pearls of his poetry as “Imitation of Catullus”, “The Athenian Woman”, “I Decide”, “Separation”, “Stanzas to Augusta”, etc., he expressed the liberating ideals of the new time. Deep sincerity, purity and freshness of feeling, thirst for freedom, high and genuine humanity of the lyric poems awakened the consciousness of society, set it against the customs and mores implanted by the church during the period of reaction.

The biblical stories developed by the author of the cycle serve as a conventional form, a tribute to the national revolutionary traditions coming from Milton, Blake and others. It is interesting that the theme of individual heroism in this cycle is addressed in a new way. The poem “You have ended the path of life” tells about a hero who deliberately sacrificed his life for the good of the fatherland. The poet emphasizes that the hero’s name is immortal in the minds of the people.

The novelty of Byron's love themes consisted of the following features:

Strongly expressed subjective beginning;

Tragedy;

Maximalism (feelings, desires, plot outline);

The combination of love with death, separation - that is, the destructive principle;

A combination of classical and romantic traditions in style and imagery;

Transmission of the most complex and powerful emotional experiences;

Creation of captivating female images;

Expression of expressive means;

The connection of love lyrics with philosophical and civil themes, as well as with biblical motifs.

I don’t need the sweet deceptions of a novel,
Away with fiction! Don't worry your soul in vain!
Oh, give me a ray of intoxicated glance
And love's first bashful kiss!

A poet praising the grove and the field!
Hurry, heal your inspiration!
Your poems will flow freely,
Just taste love's first kiss!

Do not be afraid that Phoebus will turn his gaze away,
Don’t regret the help of the muses, don’t grieve.
What Phoebus is muzaget! what Parnassian choirs!
Will replace their first love kiss!

I don't need dead creatures of art!
Oh, hypocritical light, curse and rejoice!
I'm waiting for inspiration, where the feeling came out,
Where is love's first kiss heard?

Creatures of dreams, where shepherdesses yearn,
Where the herds slumber by the brooding streams,
Perhaps they will captivate, but they will not excite souls, -
The first kiss of love is dearer to me!

Oh, who says: man, redeeming
Sin of the forefather, weep and grieve forever!
No! a whole corner of inaccessible paradise:
It is where love's first kiss is!

May old age mercilessly cool my blood,
You, memory of the past, enchant my heart!
And the best treasure of memory will be -
He is love's first shameful kiss!

Everything is over! Married yesterday
Lord, fear of the kings of the earth,
You are now a nameless form!
Fall so low - and be alive!
Is it you who gave away thrones,
Throwing legions to death?
Only one spirit from such heights
He was overthrown by the right hand of God:
The one - falsely called Dennitsa!

Madman! You were a scourge over those
Who bowed before you?
Blind in a bright diadem,
You thought you could open the eyes of others!
You could give richly,
But he paid everyone the same fee
For loyalty: the silence of the graves.
You showed us what is possible
Vanity in an insignificant soul.

Thank you! A cruel example!
He means more for centuries,
Than philosophy lessons,
Than the teachings of the sages.
From now on, the shine of military power
Will not seduce human passions,
The idol of the minds has fallen forever.
He was like all earthly gods:
The forehead is made of bronze, the legs are made of clay.

The joy of battles, their bloody feast,
Thunderous cry of victory,
Sword, scepter, intoxication of glory,
What you have been breathing for many years,
The power before which the world bowed,
With which the hum of rumor became akin, -
Everything disappeared, like a dream, like a delirium.
A! Gloomy spirit! What a torment.
A memory for your soul!

You are crushed, O destroyer!
You, the winner, are defeated!
Lord of countless lives
Forced to beg for life!
How to survive the worldwide shame?
Do you believe in vain hope?
Or is he only afraid of death?
But - to fall as a king or suffer a fall.
Your choice is bold to the point of disgust!

The Greek who broke the oak tree with his hands
Failed to calculate the consequences:
The trunk shrank again, squeezed in a vice
The one who was arrogantly brave.
Chained to the trunk, he called in vain...
He became the prey of forest animals...
This, and worse, is your destiny!
Like him, you can’t escape,
And you're eating your own heart!

Son of Rome, burning flame of the heart
Filled with a bloody river,
He threw away his mighty sword,
How the citizen went home.
Gone in stern greatness,
With contempt for slaves ready
Tolerate the ruler over you.
He voluntarily rejected the crown:
For fame - that's enough!

Spaniard, with unprecedented power,
How are you, drunk to the end,
Left the world for a small cell,
Replaced the shine of the crown with a rosary.
The world of hypocrisy and the world of deception
No higher than the tyrant's throne,
But he himself despised the noise of the palace,
I chose it myself - cassock and mass
Yes, scholastic nonsense.

And you! You hesitated on the throne,
I let the thunder be snatched from my hands
By order, involuntarily
You said goodbye to your palace!
You were an evil genius over the century,
But the sight of your falls
People's faces are stained with shame.
That's who he served as a footstool for
A world created by the spirit of God!

Blood flowed for you in a stream,
And you valued yours so much!
And before you, as before Rock,
A host of princes bent their knees!
Freedom is even more precious to us
Since the worst enemy of the people
He has branded himself worldwide!
Among tyrants you are inglorious,
Which of them was equal to you?

Fate deals you with a bloody hand
Inscribed in the chronicle of times.
Only briefly illuminated by glory,
Your face is forever darkened.
If only you would fall like a king in purple,
In the centuries to come there could be in the world
Rise another Napoleon.
But is it flattering - like a star above the abyss
Sparkle and collapse into starless darkness?

It's not the same weight: a pile of clay
And the commander's mortal dust?
Death equals us at the hour of death,
All, all on righteous scales.
But you want to believe that in the hero
An unearthly flame burns,
Captivating us, instilling fear,
And it's bitter if the laughter is contempt
Executes the favorite of a generation.

And that one, the Austrian flexible flower...
Was this the fate she dreamed of!
Should she bear it with a smile?
All the horrors of your fate!
To share your thoughts in exile,
Your late murmur, gloomy groan,
Oh, dethroned villain!
When she's still with you -
She is more expensive than all the tiaras!

Having hidden shame and grief on Elba,
Watch the waves of the herd from the cliffs.
You will not confuse the sea with a smile:
You never owned it!
In a despondent hour, with a careless hand
Mark on the coastal shallows,
That the world is free forever!
And become an example of a miserable lot,
Like the ancient “Dionysius at school.”

Is there a burning wound in your soul?
What dreams are you pining for?
In Tamerlane's iron cage?
One, one: “The world was mine!
Or are you like the despot of Babylon,
Lost meaning with the loss of the throne?
Otherwise how can you be alive?
To the one who was so close to the goal,
He could do so much - and fell so low!

Oh, if only you were like the son of Iapetus,
Fearlessly faced the whirlwinds of thunderstorms,
Sharing with him at the edge of the world
A cliff familiar to the kite!
And now over your shame
He laughs with an arrogant look,
Who himself endured the horror of the fall,
Remained solid in the underworld,
And he would die, if he were mortal, proud!

There was a day, there was an hour: the whole universe
The Gauls owned them, and you owned them.
Oh, if only at this time you could boldly
You yourself would come down from the heights!
Marengo, you would outshine the radiance!
Memories of this day
Everything would be ashamed of slander,
Scattering shadows around you,
Shining through the darkness of crime!

But with a low thirst for autocracy
Your soul was full.
You thought: to the height of happiness
They will bring up empty names!
Where is your purple, which has now faded?
Where is the tinsel of your pride:
Sultans, ribbons, orders?
Poor child! Victim of glory!
Tell me, where are all your fun?

But is there between the great centuries,
On whom you can rest your gaze,
Who exalts a person's name,
Before whom do slanderers remain silent?
Yes, I have! He is the first, he is the only one!
And envy honors your gray hairs,
American Cincinnatus!
Shame on the tribe of the earth,
That there is no other Washington!

Oh Waterloo! We don't curse
You, even in your field
Freedom has bled to death:
That blood couldn't disappear.
Like a tornado from the ocean waters,
She rises from burning wounds,
Merging in a whirlwind of mountain spheres
With yours, hero Labedoyer
(Under the gloomy shadow of heavy slabs
“The bravest of the brave” is sleeping).
Blood in the sky like a crimson cloud
Take off to come back again
To the ground. The cloud is full
It is fraught with thunderstorms,
The whole sky is stained with it;
Thunder and light have accumulated in it
Unknown years to come;
Wormwood-star will come to life in it,
In the Old Testament years
Who said that in a bitter age
The river beds will fill with blood.

At Waterloo Napoleon
He fell, but it was not you who broke him!
When, soldier and citizen,
He listened to the voice of the squads
And death itself spared us -
It was an hour of great glory!
Which of these tyrants could
Enslave our free camp,
Until the French were lured
Snare your own tyrant,
For now, we are tormented by vanity,
The hero did not become a simple king?
Then he fell - so everyone will fall,
Who weaves networks for people!

And you, in a snow-white plume
(You were finished by shooting)
Wouldn't it have been better in a terrible battle?
Lead the French with you
Than bitter blood and shame
Pay for the right to be a prince,
Pay for the title and for the honor
To fit into the cast-offs of princely power!
Was that what you were thinking about, through the fire
Flying on an angry horse,
Like a furious wave
Running towards enemies?
You rushed through the whirlwind of battle,
But I didn’t know the fate of the decision,
But he didn’t know that the slave, laughing,
Your plume will be trampled into the mud!
Like a moonbeam leading a wave,
So you brought war with you,
So your soldiers walked into the flames,
Enveloped by gray clouds,
Through the thick smoke, through the acrid smoke
Walking behind the gray eagle,
And my heart was never bolder
Among the fire, among the swords!
Where the striking lead struck,
Where they fell more and more often
Under the banner of a hero;
Near the French eagle
(Whose strength is in the midst of battle
I could defeat him
Delay the flight of the wing?),
Where the enemy army is crushed,
Where the thunderstorm struck -
There we met Murat:
Now he has closed his eyes!

The enemy walks over the ruins of glory,
The Arc de Triomphe was reduced to dust;
But whenever with a sword
Liberty arose later,
Then she would the country
I loved it doubly.
The French twice for this
The lesson was paid dearly:
Napoleon or Capet -
There is no difference for the country,
Her stronghold is people of right,
Hearts in which honor is alive,
And Liberty - God gave it to us,
So that any of us can breathe it,
Even though her sin sometimes strives
Erase from the surface of the earth;
Erase with a merciless hand
Contentment of peace and tranquility,
The blood of nations flows furiously
There are endless seas of murder.

But the hearts of all people
Unity is stronger -
Where is such a powerful force
So that the united ones can be broken?
The power of swords is already weakening,
Hearts beat hot;
Here on earth, among the people
Freedom will find heirs:
After all, today those who suffer in battles
They want to save it for the world;
Her followers will rally,
And let the tyrants not threaten:
The time for empty threats has passed -
The days of bloody tears are getting closer!

Ansley Hills!
The raging cold has clothed you in a shaggy shadow
Rebellious winter.

There are no former bright places where the heart loved so much
Relax for hours
You are heaven for me in Mary's sweet smile
No longer to shine.

Newstead! The castle fence is pierced by the wind,
The monastery of the fathers is in ruins.
The roses of the once cheerful garden are dying,
Where the ruthless hemlock grew.

The wind howls; cracks from any impulse
Shield with coat of arms speaking to us in despondency
About the barons in armor who led proudly
From Europe troops to the Palestinian sands.

Robert does not burn my heart with a red-hot song,
He does not glorify the battle wreath with a harp,
John is buried at the distant strongholds of Ascalon,
The dead bard's hand does not touch the strings.

Paul and Hubert sleep in the grave in the Crecy valley,
Blood for England and Edward's strait.
The tears of the homeland of my ancestors resurrected;
Their feat is alive in the chronicle legend.

Together with Rupert at the Battle of Marston, the brothers
They fought against the rebels - for the king.
Death sealed their loyalty to the monarch,
She fed their blood to empty fields.

Shadows of the ancestors! The descendant says goodbye to you,
He leaves the shelter of the family nest.
Wherever he is - at home and overseas
He will always remember your valor.

Let the sadness of parting cloud your eyes,
This is not cowardice, but the past.
He leaves into the distance, but the fire of competition
The proud glory of his fathers ignites in him.

He will be worthy of your courage, ancestors,
The memory of your deeds will remain in your heart;
He, like you, will live and die like a warrior,
And posthumous glory will dawn on him.

When I pressed you to my chest,
Full of love and happiness and reconciled with fate,
I thought: only death will separate us from you;
But we are separated by the envy of people!

May you forever, lovely creature,
Their malice has torn them away from my heart;
But, believe me, they will not drive your image out of him,
Before your friend falls under the burden of suffering!

And if the dead leave their shelter
And the dust will be reborn from decay to eternal life,
Again my forehead will bow on your chest:
There is no heaven for me without you with me!

Oh, if only I could kiss the fire of these eyes
I wouldn't get tired of wishing a thousand times.
Always immerse my lips in their light -
A hundred years would pass in one kiss.

But does the soul get tired of loving?
Everyone would cling to you, kiss you,
Nothing could tear my lips from my lips:
We would all kiss again and again;

And let there be no number of kisses,
Like grains in a field where the harvest has ripened.
And the thought of separation is not worth the trouble:
Can I change it? Never ever.

Oh, yes, I confess, you and I were close;
A connection that is fleeting in childhood is eternal;
Brotherly hearts united our feelings,
And mutual love was given to us.

But a short moment will sweep away what has been created over the years -
So easy friendship is fickle power;
Like Passion, she makes noise with her airy wings,
But it goes out in one moment, when Passion does not go out.

We once wandered along Ida in the spring,
And I remember the dreams of my young days were blissful.
How clear the firmament was above our heads!
But the storms of gloomy winters are now destined for us.

And dear memory, united with sadness,
From now on, we won’t be able to resurrect our childhood;
Let pride temper my heart with solid steel,
What was nice to me is now my shame.

But, my friend, I do not humiliate my chosen ones -
And I still have to respect you,
Case separated us, but the same case, I know,
It will force you to take back an unfaithful vow.

The cooled love in me will not be replaced by anger.
And I won’t let the plaintive pain into my heart:
I calmly think that we are both wrong,
And it’s easy for you to forgive, just as I can easily forgive.

You knew - my life is always hot blood
I was waiting to respond to your first call;
Did you know that a soul, drunk with love,
I could overcome space and years.

You knew, but why, in vain remembering,
Try to hold the broken chain!
It’s too late for you, sadly drooping over the past,
It’s painful to sigh about a friend from previous years.

Let's part, I'm waiting for us to come together again.
Let time and sorrow unite us again;
I demand from you - one defense of honor;
Let the discord be resolved by past love.

A half-fallen, formerly magnificent temple!
Holy altar! Monarch repentance!
Tomb of knights, monks, ladies,
Whose shadows wander here in the night glow.

I salute your teeth, Newstead!
You are more beautiful than the buildings of a new life,
And the vaults of your hall for the rage of years
They look with contempt, proudly and sternly.

Loyal to the leaders, with crosses on their shoulders,
There are no rows of men-at-arms crowding here,
They don’t make noise carelessly at feasts, -
Immortal host! - at round tables!

The magical gaze of a dream, in the distance of centuries,
I would have seen the movement of their squad,
In which everyone is ready to die
And, like a pilgrim, he yearns for Palestine.

But no! This is not the homeland of those leaders
This is not where their ancestral lands lie:
In you they hid from the rays of the day,
Looking for peace, hearts are sick.

Rejecting the world, the monk prayed here
In a gloomy cell, under the cover of shadow,
Bloody sin hid secret fear here,
Innocence came here from oppression.

The king raised you in a remote land,
Where the people of Sherwood wandered like animals,
And here in you, under the black hood,
The victims of superstition have found salvation.

Where, a damp cloak over lifeless dust,
Now the grass flows dew in sorrow,
There are monks there, accomplishing their feat,
Only for prayer did they raise their voices.

Where are your unfaithful yo bats
Now they rush through the twilight of the night,
The vespers choir sang in the hours of dawn,
Or the morning canon of St. Mary!

Years followed years, century followed centuries,
Abbot - abbot; the brotherhood lived peacefully.
He was protected by the canopy of faith until
The king did not commit sacrilege.

The temple was erected by Saint Henry,
So that the hermits could live there in peace.
But the gift was taken away by another Henry,
And the holy singing of faith fell silent.

Requests and words of threats are in vain,
He drives them away from the old threshold
Wander around the world, among everyday thunderstorms,
Without a friend, without shelter - except God!

Chu! the vaults of your hall, sounding in response,
They tremble at the call of military music,
And, heralds of the dominion of the sword,
Banners flutter high on the walls.

The step of a sentry, the changing hum is dull,
The joy of the feast, the ringing of chain mail,
The sound of trumpets and drums
Merged into a chant of incessant anxiety.

Once an abbey, now you are a fortress,
Surrounded by a ring of infidel regiments.
War guns from a formidable height
Hanging, sowing death in showers of sulfur.

It's all in vain! Let the enemy be repulsed more than once, -
The brave yields to deceit,
The defenders are pressed by a rebellious host,
Having raised his smoky banner over them.

The baron surrenders to them not without a fight,
The bodies of enemies stain the bloody valley;
He clutches the undefeated sword.
And there are still days of new glory before him.

When the hero is ready to demolish
Your new laurel to the desired grave, -
A good genius flies to save
To the monarch - friend, hope, strength!

Draws from unequal battles, so that again
In other fields he fought off an evil attack,
So that he leads the army to worthy battles,
In which the godlike Falkland fell.

You, poor castle, are given over to plunder!
The groans of the slain sound like a requiem,
A new incense rises to the sky
And piles of victims cover the stained valley.

Like ghosts, monstrous, pale,
The dead lie in the sacred grass.
Where riders and horses are entwined,
A despicable regiment of robbers wanders.

The decayed ashes are plucked from the coffins,
Long past the grass, thick and noisy, hidden:
They will not spare the peace of the dead
Robbers, looking for buried riches.

The noise of battle ceased. The killers finally
They left, fully satisfied with the spoils.
Silence has once again put on its crown,
And the black Horror guards the doors.

Here Ruin holds a gloomy courtyard,
And what kind of servants glorify the power of the queen!
Flying to sleep in an abandoned cathedral,
The night birds scream an ominous hymn.

But now the fog of anarchy has disappeared
In the rays of dawn from the native sky,
And the tyrant fell into hell, his birthplace,
And the death of the villain is celebrated by nature.

The thunderstorm greets the dying groan,
The last breath meets the whirlwind,
Having accepted the shameful coffin that was handed to her,
The earth itself trembles in indignation.

The rightful helmsman is back at the helm
And the country's boat leads on a calm sea.
Healing the enmity of the subsided wound,
Hope again invigorates with a smile on grief.

From ruined nests, screaming, they fly
Residents who occupied empty cells.
Having accepted his flax again, the owner is happy;
After days of sorrow - full of fun!

A host of vassals within welcoming walls
He feasts again, meeting the master.
Women have forgotten their melancholy and fear,
The valley is lavishly decorated with crops.

The song echoes along the roads,
The rich, cheerful pine forest is lush with foliage.
And choo! in the fields the ringing horn calls,
And the hunter’s cry is heard in the wind.

The meadows tremble under the tramp all day...
Oh, so many fears! joy! care!
A deer is looking for salvation in the lake...
And a loud cry praises the end of the hunt!

Happy century, you couldn't last long,
When only bullying grandfathers was fun!
They, despising the brilliant vice,
We knew a lot of fun, but little sorrow!

The father is replaced by a son. Day by day
Death threatens everyone with its inexorable hand.
The new rider is already warming up the horse,
Another crowd is chasing the doe.

Newstead! how sad are your days now!
How terrifying is the sight of your open vaults!
The youngest and last of the family
Now the owner of these old towers.

He sees the dilapidation of your gray walls,
He looks at the cells where thunderstorms are blowing,
To the glorious tombs of days gone by,
He looks at everything, looks at the tears flowing!

But those tears are not pity that awakens in him:
Respect has been torn from their hearts!
Love, Hope, Pride - like fire,
They burn the chest and do not give oblivion.

You are more valuable to him than all palaces
And whimsical grottoes. Alone
Wandering between the mossy slabs of your coffins,
He doesn’t want to grumble at the will of Rock.

The sun can shine through the clouds,
Light you up again with the midday ray.
The hour of glory may be yours again,
The coming day is equal to the day of the past!

Why grieve a sick soul,
That youth is gone?
There are still days of joy behind me;
Love is not dead.
And in the depths of past wanderings,
Among the holy memories -
I tasted heavenly delight:
Carry it, golden winds,
To where it was sung to me for the first time:

In the stream of passing years
Every moment was mine!
Him and in a cloud of deep tears
And in the light I realized:
And no matter what fate judges me, -
The soul loved the past,
And with a passionate thought I judged;
Oh friendship! pure joy!
I don’t need blessed worlds:
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

Where the yew branches sway slightly,
Leaning under the wind,
The soul from the grave hears keenly
Her simple story;
Youth frolics around her,
Until the bell, which scared away the joy,
It didn’t ring from the school walls:
And I, among these sad places,
I find out everything in farewell tears:
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

Before your altars,
Love, I made a vow!
I was yours - in heart and dreams, -
But their light trace has been erased;
Your wings are swift as the wind,
And I, bending over the dust of the valley,
I only caught jealousy.
Away! Fly away, attractive ghost!
You will visit my hour to come,
Perhaps, only without these wings!

Oh, the spiers of distant bell towers!
How sweet it is to meet you!
Here I am free to burn as before,
Here I am a child again.
Alley of Elms, green hill;
I go, intoxicated with delight, -
And the corolla - each color opened;
And again, as of old, at a clear meeting,
My dear friend whispers speeches to me:
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

My Lycus! Don't shed your tears in vain,
Love is true to you;
She only dreams in beautiful dreams,
She will wake up again.
We won't be apart for long, friend,
How sweet it will be to shake our hands!
My hopes are so hot!
When hearts are so passionately young,
When the strings of parting sing:
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

I am the strength of bitter delusions
I didn't want to give in.
No, I am far from oppression
And he despised the pitiful one.
And to those who were faithful to me in childhood.
Like a brother, unhypocritical at heart, -
I returned the heat of my heart.
And if life doesn't stop,
You will only make the heart beat,
Oh, Friendship! our union without wings!

Friends! noble soul
And with life - I am with you!
We are all in one free love -
One family!
Let the kings, under a false mask,
In colorful and beautiful clothes -
The honeyed tongue sharpened flattery;
We are surrounded by enemies
Friends, let's forget what's happening to us -
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

Let the bards compose fictions
Of melodious antiquity;
Love and Friendship know me,
I don't need laurels;
Everything, everything that Slava fled
The magical and crafty paths, -
I opened it not with my thoughts, but with my heart;
And let the soul be simple and young
A simple song is born from the strings:
“Union of Friends - Love without Wings!”

You're right, Montgomery, human hands
Creation - Lethe will be absorbed;
But there are chosen ones, about them
The memory will remain forever.

Let it be unknown where he was born
Hero-fighter, but to our eyes
His deeds from the darkness of times
Shining like a bright meteor.

Let time erase all traces
His joys, his sufferings,
Still the glorious name lives on
And it will not lose its charm.

Fighter, poet mortal dust
He will be taken by a common grave,
But their glory is in people's hearts
Will be resurrected with creative power.

A gaze full of life will pass
Into the frozen gaze of numbness,
Beauty and courage will die
And will perish in the abyss of oblivion.

Only the poet's gaze will pour
For us the eternal light of love, shining;
Will live in Petrarch's poems
Laura's shadow without dying.

Time completes its flight,
Sweeping away kingdoms in succession,
But the poet's laurel continues to bloom
Unfading beauty.

Yes, everyone will be struck down by a dashing illness,
The peace of numbness awaits everyone,
And old, and young, and enemy, and friend -
Everyone will be, everyone will be the prey of decay.

The days of life are numbered,
The ancient stones will also fall,
From the proud temples of antiquity
The ruins stand silent.

But if everything has its turn,
But if the marble here is not eternal, -
He deserves immortality
Who is marked with a divine spark.

Don’t say that everyone’s lot is
The wave will be swallowed up by the harsh one;
This is the fate of many, but not those
Who broke the shackles of death.

Dear Beecher, you gave me wise advice:
Connect your soul to human interests.
But, for me, loneliness is better, and light
Let's leave it to the despicable rakes.

If a military feat captivates me
Or a calling will be born to serve in the Senate,
I may be able to elevate my race
After a childhood period of testing.

The flames of the mountains smolder quietly like a fire,
Secretly hidden in the bowels of smoking Etna;
But boiling lava explodes the crust,
Before her, all obstacles are in vain.

So the desire for fame excites me:
May my grandchildren be inspired by my entire life!
If only I could fly out of the fire like a phoenix,
I would also accept mortal pain.

I would despise pain, and need, and danger -
If only I could live like Fox; would die -
like Chatham,
A glorious life lasts, and death is not the limit:
Glory shines with unfading light.

Why should I get along with the secular crowd,
To servile before its leaders,
Flatter the whippersnappers, admire the absurd rumor
Or make friends with fools?

I have experienced both the sweetness and bitterness of love,
He professed friendship jealously and faithfully;
Rumor condemned my frantic ardor,
And friendship is sometimes hypocritical.

What is wealth? It turns to steam
By the whim of fate or the will of a tyrant.
What do I need a title for? Shadow of power, joy for the bar.
Only glory is what I desire.

I am not good at pretense, I am not cunning at lying,
I am alien to the hypocrisy of the world by nature.
Why should I endure the hateful supervision,
Wasting years in vain?

In a fit of hot kissing
I want to fall to your lips;
But I will humble my desires,
Your blasphemous passion!

Ah, your chest is whiter than snow:
I would like to cling to such purity!
But I humble myself, I don't dare
Nothing to disturb your peace.

In your eyes there is a living soul,
I fear, hope and remain silent;
Why am I hiding my love?
I don’t want my beloved to cry!

I won't say a word to you
You know that I am on fire;
Should I talk about passion again?
So that your paradise turns into hell?

No, we will not stand under the crowns,
And you cannot be mine;
Even if only a ritual performed in the temple,
Our union has the right to sanctify.

Let the secret fire gnaw at my heart,
You won’t know about this, no, -
My moan won't bother you,
I'd rather leave the world!

Oh yes, I could in a single moment
ease a sick heart,
But I am your dove's peace
You have no right to insolently embarrass.

No, we are not destined for kisses,
Our duty is to save ourselves.
Well, at the moment of the last date
I say - forgive me forever!

No longer thinking about pleasure,
I protect your honor
I will endure everything for my beloved;
But know this: I can’t bear the shame!

Even though I couldn’t achieve happiness,
You are the embodiment of purity
And a vulgar victim of slander,
Darling, you won’t!

End! It was all just a dream.
There is no light in my future.
Where is the happiness, where is the charm?
I'm trembling in the wind of the evil winter,
My dawn is hidden behind a cloud of darkness,
The love and the radiance of hope are gone...
Oh, if only there was a memory!

My friend! You couldn't boast
Wealth or noble share, -
But friendship is a true flower
It grows not in gardens, but in the field!

Ah, not deaf greenhouse flowers
Fragrant and beautiful
There is more wild beauty
In the flowers of the meadows, in the flowers along the fields!

And if I weren't blind
Fortune, if only she could help
She is nature - in front of you
She would lavish gifts.

And if only her eyes could see
And the depths of your humble soul,
You would have the world as your inheritance,
Then what are you worth to the universe!

There is a vague reflection of your beauty here, -
Although the artist was a master, -
Momentary fear drives from the heart,
He tells me to believe and live.

For golden curls, wave
Over the white curly brow,
For cheeks created with beauty,
For the lips - I became a slave to beauty.

Your gaze, oh no! Azure-humid
The sparkle of these tender eyes
The master's brave attempt
Unattainable in its beauty.

I see their incomparable color,
But where is that ray that is full of bliss,
A blessed dream shone in them for me,
Like the light of the moon in the azure of the waves?

The portrait is lifeless, voiceless,
You are dearer to me than anyone alive
Beauties - except for the beautiful one,
Who laid it on my chest?

Giving you, she grieved,
The fear of betrayal tormented her, -
In vain: her gift is entirely
He became the guardian of all my feelings.

In the flow of days and years, enchanting,
Let him invigorate my dreams,
And at the hour of death I will give it to him
The last, tender gaze of love!

About childhood pictures! With love and pain
I see you, and it’s hard to compare with today
The past! Here the mind was illuminated by science,
Here friendship was kindled to be short-lived;

It’s nice for me to evoke your images here,
Comrades and friends of fun and troubles;
Here the memory of you rises with grace
And it lives in the heart, even though there is no hope.

These are the mountains where we had fun with sports,
The river where we swam, the meadow where we fought;
Here is the school where the bell works properly
He called us so that we could take up our books again.

This is the place where I, thinking for hours,
Sitting on a gravestone in the evening;
Here is the hill where I am, walking around the churchyard,
I followed the sunset's farewell ray.

Here again this hall is full of people,
Where I, in the role of Zangi, Alonzo trampled,
Where they clapped me so hard, so hard,
That I dreamed of eclipsing Mossop's fame.

Here, mad Lear, cursing his daughters,
I thundered, having lost my mind and my throne;
And he was proud, dreaming in his conceit,
That the great Garrick is repeated in me.

Dreams of youth, how I feel sorry for you! You are priceless!
Will the memory of sweet years fade?
I am abandoned, sad; but you are unforgettable:
Let your joys bloom even in your dreams.

In memory I call upon Ida more and more often;
Let Rock unfold the shadows of the future -
It's dark ahead; but the brighter, the sweeter
A ray of the past will shine in a sad heart.

But if, among the years carried away by aspiration,
Fate destined me to discover a new joy, -
Having experienced it, I will say with emotion:
“That’s how it was in those days, when I was a child.”

Queen of dreams and children's fairy tales,
Mother of childish fun,
Accustomed to aerial dancing
Engage obedient children!
I'm a stranger to your charms
I broke the chains of youth
The land of magical dreams
Changed to the kingdom of Truth!

It's not easy to say goodbye to dreams,
Where I lived as a virgin soul,
Where nymphs are considered deities,
And their glances are like a holy ray!
Where Imagination Rules,
Dressing everything in wonderful colors.
There is no skill in women's smiles
And emptiness - in the vanity of virgins!

But I know: you are just a name! Necessary
Come down from the cloud palaces,
Not to believe in a friend, like in Pilades,
Don't see gods in women!
Admit that the ray of heaven is alien to me,
Where the elves lead a light circle,
That maidens are deceitful, how lovely,
That our friend is busy only with himself.

I am ashamed, with true repentance,
That your scepter of roses formerly honored you.
I am now deaf to your calls
And I don’t soar on the wings of dreams!
Fool! I loved the brilliant gaze
And I thought: the truth is hidden there!
I caught a fleeting sigh
And he believed the tears he made.

Bored with this callous lie,
I leave your magnificent throne.
Pretense reigns in your palace,
And in him Sensitivity is the law!
She can pour out the sea -
Over fiction - empty tears,
Forgetting real grief,
Weep at your altars!

Sympathy, dressed in black
And decorated with cypress,
Let him cry unfeignedly with you,
It sheds the blood of the heart for everyone!
Call me to cry over the loss
Dryads: their shepherd boy is gone.
Like you, he once burned,
Now I have despised your throne.

O nymphs! you have no problem
Ready to cry about everything
Burn in fits of frenzy
Imaginary fire!
Will you mourn me sadly,
Left the dear circle?
Don't songs have the right to wait for farewell
Am I, the young bard, your former friend?

Chu! moments of doom are approaching...
Farewell, farewell, careless race!
I see an abyss nearby
In which death awaits you.
You are imperiously driven by a sad whirlwind,
The water of oblivion roars,
And you and the light-winged queen
Must perish forever.

I want to be a free child
And live again in my native mountains,
Wander through the wild forests,
Rock on the sea waves.
I can’t get along with a free soul
With Saxon pomp and bustle!
It's dearer to me over the ripples of water
A cliff into which the surf hits!

Fate! take back the bounty
And a title that lasts for centuries!
I have no desire to live among slaves,
Shame on me to shake their hands!
Give me back my wild land,
Where did I know the dreams of early years,
Where the ocean rocks roar
Send your fearless answer!

ABOUT! I'm not old! But the world is undoubtedly
Was not created for me!
Why are they hidden by a black shadow?
Signs of a fateful day?
I had a beautiful dream before,
A vision of wondrous beauty...
Reality! you speak with authority
Dispelled my dreams.

Who was my friend - in a distant land,
Those I loved are not with me.
Sad in a lonely heart,
When the swarm of hopes disappears!
Sometimes over the cups of fun
I will forget myself for a short time...
But what an instant delirium of a hangover!
I am alone in my heart, in my heart!

How stupid it is to listen to reasoning -
Oh, neither friends nor enemies! —
Those who, at the whim of birth
Became a companion of the feasts.
Give me back my cherished friends,
Sharing the trembling of young thoughts,
And I’ll give up the pre-dawn orgies
I am an empty shine and idle noise.

What about women? I thought you were
Hope, consolation, everything!
What a dead stone I have become,
When your face is mute to the heart!
Gifts of fate, her passions,
This whole holiday is endless
I would give for a drop of happiness
What do pure hearts know!

I'm exhausted from the torment of fun,
I hate the human race,
And my chest thirsts for the gorge,
Where the darkness hangs over the soul!
If I could, spreading my wings,
Like a dove to the joys of the nest,
Rush into the sky without effort
Away, away from life - forever!

George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) is the largest and most prominent figure of English romanticism on a pan-European scale. “The poet of pride,” according to Pushkin’s definition, blinded and puzzled his contemporaries. Byron's creative personality, the "living flame" of his poems and his dramatic fate met with an ardent and wide public response, sometimes enthusiastically and sympathetically, sometimes maliciously hateful, sometimes filled with confusion. Simultaneously with romantic poems Byron created love and heroic lyrics , to which the cycle “Jewish Melodies” belongs. The poet knew and loved the Bible well from childhood and in “Jewish Melodies”, turning to biblical motifs in the poems “On the Sacred Harp...”, “Saul”, “Jewthai’s Daughter”, “Vision of Belshazzar” and in a number of others, maintaining imagery and the plot basis of the episodes taken from this monument of ancient literature conveyed their epicness and lyricism. The cycle contains poems that are inspired by the poet’s personal memories and experiences, such as “She walks in all her glory,” “Oh, if there is beyond the heavens,” “She passed away,” “My soul is gloomy.” The whole cycle is united by a general mood, mostly sadness and melancholy. "Jewish Melodies" were written for the composer Isaac Nathan, who, together with the composer Breghem, set them to music. It was during this period, after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo and the subsequent political events in England and France, that Byron wrote a number of works about Napoleon - “Napoleon’s Farewell”, “From the French”, “Ode from the French”, “Star of the Legion of Honor” . References to the French source were made by the author in order to ward off accusations of disloyalty to the government from the newspapers where these works were published. In the cycle about Napoleon, Byron took a clear anti-chauvinist position, believing that England, waging war with France and Napoleon, brought many disasters to its people. Byron's love lyrics of 1813-1817 are distinguished by their extraordinary richness and diversity: nobility, tenderness, and deep humanity constitute its distinctive features. This is lyricism, devoid of any mysticism, false fantasy, asceticism, or religiosity. In the collection “Jewish Melodies” Byron creates his ideal of love. When speaking about the humanism of Byron's lyric poems, one must first of all keep in mind the spirit of freedom and struggle with which they are filled. In such pearls of his poetry as “Imitation of Catullus”, “To the Album”, “The Athenian Woman”, “To Thirza”, “I Decide”, “On the Question of the Beginning of Love”, “Imitation of the Portuguese”, “Separation”, “Oh, if there, beyond the heavens”, “You cried”, “Stanzas to Augusta”, etc. - he expressed the liberating ideals of the new time. Deep sincerity, purity and freshness of feeling, thirst for freedom, high and genuine humanity of the lyric poems awakened the consciousness of society, set it against the customs and mores implanted by the church during the period of reaction. The biblical stories developed by the author of the cycle serve as a conventional form, a tribute to the national revolutionary traditions coming from Milton, Blake and others. It’s interesting that the theme of individual heroism is addressed in a new way in this cycle. The poem “You have ended the path of life” tells about a hero who deliberately sacrificed his life for the good of the fatherland. The poet emphasizes that the hero’s name is immortal in the minds of the people.

^ Question 39. Eastern poems: the originality of the chronotope, composition, problematics, evolution of the hero.

George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) is the largest and most prominent figure of English romanticism on a pan-European scale. “The poet of pride,” according to Pushkin’s definition, blinded and puzzled his contemporaries. Byron's creative personality, the "living flame" of his poems and his dramatic fate met with an ardent and wide public response, sometimes enthusiastically and sympathetically, sometimes maliciously hateful, sometimes filled with confusion. Oriental poems of Byron (1813 - 1816) The result of Byron's travels were his poems. Beginning in 1813, from the pen of Byron one after another came out romantic poems, which later became known as “oriental”. The following poems belong to this cycle: “The Giaour” (1813), “The Bride of Abydos” (1813), “The Corsair” (1814), “Lara” (1814), “The Siege of Corinth” (1816) and “Parisina” (1816) . This definition in full, if we mean color, applies only to the first three; in “Lara,” as the poet himself pointed out, the name is Spanish, and the country and time of the event are not specifically indicated; in “The Siege of Corinth,” Byron takes us to Greece, and in “Parisina” to Italy. There is a certain logic in the desire to combine these poems into one cycle, suggested by common features characteristic of all the named poems. In them, Byron creates that romantic personality, which later, mainly in the 19th century, began to be called “Byronic.” The hero of Byron's "oriental poems" is usually a renegade rebel who rejects all the rules of a proprietary society. This is a typical romantic hero; it is characterized by the exclusivity of personal destiny, extraordinary passions, unbending will, tragic love, fatal hatred. Individualistic and anarchic freedom is his ideal. These heroes are best characterized by the words Belinsky said about Byron himself: “This is a human personality, indignant against the common and, in his proud rebellion, relying on himself.” The celebration of individualistic rebellion was an expression of Byron's spiritual drama, the cause of which should be sought in the death of the liberating ideals of the revolution and the establishment of a dark Tory reaction. This Byronian individualism was subsequently assessed very negatively by the English poet's advanced contemporaries. However, by the time the “eastern poems” appeared, this contradiction between them was not so striking. Much more important then (1813 - 1816) was something else: a passionate call to action, to struggle, which Byron, through the mouth of his frantic heroes, proclaimed as the main meaning of existence. The most remarkable feature of the “Eastern poems” is the spirit of action, struggle, daring, contempt for all apathy, the thirst for battle that is embodied in them; Contemporaries were deeply concerned about the thoughts scattered throughout the “eastern poems” about the destruction of the treasures of human strength and talents in the conditions of bourgeois civilization; Thus, one of the heroes of the “eastern poems” is sad about his “unspent gigantic powers,” and another hero, Conrad, was born with a heart capable of “great good,” but he was not given the opportunity to create this good. Selim is painfully burdened by inaction; In his youth, Lara dreamed of “goodness,” etc. The triumph of reaction gave rise to sentiments of cowardice and renegadeism. Reactionary romantics sang “obedience to providence,” shamelessly glorified the bloody war, and threatened “heavenly punishment” for those who grumble about their fate; In their work, the motives of lack of will, apathy, and mysticism sounded more and more strongly. A mood of depression infected many of the best people of the era. To the weak-willed, faceless heroes of the reactionary romantics, Byron contrasted the powerful passions, the gigantic characters of his heroes, who strive to subjugate circumstances, and if they fail, then they proudly die in an unequal struggle, but do not make any compromise with their conscience, do not make any the slightest concession to the hated world of executioners and tyrants. Their lonely protest is futile, and from the very beginning this casts a tragic shade on their entire appearance. But, on the other hand, their incessant desire for action, for struggle, gives them an irresistible charm, captivates and excites them. “The whole world,” Belinsky wrote, “listened with hidden excitement to the thunderous peals of Byron’s gloomy lyre. In Paris it was translated and published even faster than in England itself.”

The composition and style of "oriental poems" are very characteristic of the art of romanticism. It is unknown where these poems take place. It unfolds against the backdrop of lush, exotic nature: descriptions are given of the endless blue sea, wild coastal cliffs, and fabulously beautiful mountain valleys. However, it would be in vain to look in them for images of the landscapes of any particular country. Each of the “oriental poems” is a short poetic story, the center of the plot of which is the fate of one romantic hero. All attention is aimed at revealing the inner world of this hero, showing the depth of his stormy and powerful passions. The poems of 1813 - 1816 are distinguished by their plot completeness; the main character is not only a connecting link between the individual parts of the poem, but represents its main interest and subject. But there are no large folk scenes, political assessments of current events, or collective images of ordinary people from among the people. The protest sounding in these poems is romantically abstract. The construction of the plot is characterized by fragmentation, a heap of random details; there are many omissions and significant hints everywhere. You can guess the motives driving the hero’s actions, but often you cannot understand who he is, where he came from, what awaits him in the future. The action usually begins with some moment snatched from the middle or even the end of the story, and only gradually does it become clear what happened earlier. Before all the “eastern poems”, “The Gyaur” saw the light. The story was written in May - November 1813. Muslims called non-believers "giaur". The plot of this poem boils down to the following: The giaur confesses to a monk on his deathbed. His incoherent story is the delirium of a dying man, some fragments of phrases, the last painful flash of consciousness. It is only with great difficulty that one can catch the thread of his thoughts. The giaur passionately loved Leila, she reciprocated his feelings. Joy and light filled the giaour’s entire being. But Leila’s jealous and treacherous husband Gessan tracked her down and villainously killed her. The giaur took terrible revenge on the tyrant and executioner of Leila. Gessan died a painful death at his hand. The poem "The Corsair" is a masterpiece of English poetry. The passionate power of a romantic dream is combined in it with the comparative simplicity of the artistic development of the theme; the formidable heroic energy of the verse in “The Corsair” is combined with its subtlest musicality; the poetry of the landscapes - with depth in depicting the psychology of the hero.

^ Question 40. Problems and genre features of the mystery “Cain”.

George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) is the largest and most prominent figure of English romanticism on a pan-European scale. “The poet of pride,” according to Pushkin’s definition, blinded and puzzled his contemporaries. Byron's creative personality, the "living flame" of his poems and his dramatic fate met with an ardent and wide public response, sometimes enthusiastically and sympathetically, sometimes maliciously hateful, sometimes filled with confusion. The hero of D. G. Byron’s mystery “Cain” (1821). In Byron's interpretation, the biblical Cain turns into a romantic hero - a fighter against God, a revolutionary of the spirit who rebelled against the deity. He reproaches God for not giving immortality to people, and his parents, Adam and Eve, for the fact that, having plucked fruit from the tree of knowledge, they did not pluck fruit from the tree of life. Hearing K.'s lamentations, the mournful spirit Lucifer appears to him. He comes to the only person who, like him, rebelled against God and proved that the evil he was doing was not good. Rebellion in the name of man turns into violence. Eve curses her fratricidal son, and the angel brands him with the seal of an outcast. Cain and Ada and their children go into exile. But K.'s main punishment is his eternal doubt. The motive of self-destruction grows in Byron's tragedy "Cain", where the main character stands right on the edge of the abyss. In essence, here a rebellion breaks out not only against the “human herd”, “slave obedience” and all kinds of human institutions that constrain the individual, but also against human nature in general, which in itself turns out to be weak and cramped for truly free impulses of the spirit. Byron again very early poses the “ultimate” questions that literature would come close to in the era of Dostoevsky and which at that time simply stunned the public. The existence of evil on an equal basis with good, the equality of evil as a force acting in the world - these are the abysses that Byron’s Lucifer opens before Cain, who, of course, is akin to Milton’s Satan, but this is no longer Satan the warrior, Satan the God-fighter, as in Milton, but the deepest and purely negative disturbance of consciousness, leaving the protagonist in a state of truly Cain-like emptiness.

^ Question 41. The novel “Don Juan”: rethinking of previous problems and images, change in genre form.

George Gordon Byron (1788-1824) is the largest and most prominent figure of English romanticism on a pan-European scale. “The poet of pride,” according to Pushkin’s definition, blinded and puzzled his contemporaries. Byron's creative personality, the "living flame" of his poems and his dramatic fate met with an ardent and wide public response, sometimes enthusiastically and sympathetically, sometimes maliciously hateful, sometimes filled with confusion. Byron's next and, in the full sense, last hero, Don Juan, on the contrary, is emphatically faceless. A comely, ordinary young man, unlike his legendary predecessor of the same name, does not conquer hearts and circumstances himself, but he is “captured” one after another by various ladies and is carried along by a stream of events - from Spain to Turkey, Russia and England. But nearby there is an unusually active author, satirist commentator. The brightness of the event background is not fantastic or exotic, but just as emphatically authentic: the expressiveness of concrete everyday details, situations and faces. The narrative is developed in two planes: if the hero, together with Suvorov, participates in the storming of Izmail, then the author is a contemporary of the Battle of Waterloo, and, thus, a moving panorama of European socio-political life at the turn of the 18th-19th centuries is created. The poem outlines a transition to realism of characters and circumstances. "Don Juan", if not the best, then the largest work of Byron, played a very significant role, responding, including specifically, to many, in turn, the largest works of the era - in "Eugene Onegin", for example. Don Juan combined Stern's prose with the psychological novel of the 19th century. Byron's outstanding contemporaries (including Walter Scott, Shelley, Pushkin) noted the truly Shakespearean diversity of the poem. “Don Juan” (1818-1823) is Byron’s work, rich in content and scope of reality, which remained unfinished, a large realistic novel in verse. Although its events date back to the 18th century, it gives a broad picture of the socio-political life of European countries in the 19th century. The novel amazes with its extraordinary artistic diversity: it contains sharp dramatic scenes, political reflections, and lyrical digressions. Byron tells about the adventures of the Spanish youth Don Juan, whose parents send him on a long journey to hush up a scandal about his affair with a married lady. Don Juan ends up on a Greek island; dressed in a woman's dress, he finds himself in the Sultan's harem; subsequently fights in the ranks of the Russian army during the capture of Izmail by Suvorov and, as a reward, is sent with a report to Catherine II. Finally, fate throws him to England, where he meets the corrupt and hypocritical high society. Written in a living language close to colloquial, perfect in its poetic form, Don Juan is one of the innovative works of world literature.

^ Question 42. The work of W. Scott.

(1771–1832), English poet, prose writer, historian. At the request of his father, Scott chose a career as a lawyer, from 1786 he helped his father in business, and in 1792 he became a barrister. Although over time literary work became the main source of his well-being, he himself considered it a hobby. Scott's first publications were translations from G. A. Burger (1796) and J. W. Goethe. Many of his works are influenced by the Gothic school with its “horror novels,” but fortunately, in the 1790s, Scott became interested in Scottish ballads. In 1802 he published selected ballads under the title Songs of the Scottish Borders. This book brought him fame. In 1805, a poem of his own composition - Song of the Last Minstrel, which met the tastes of the time and quickly won the sympathy of the public. Behind Song poems followed Marmion (1808), Maiden of the Lake (1810), Vision of Don Roderick (1811), Rokeby(1813) and Scott's last great poem Lord of the Isles(1815). With the publication of Scott's first novel Waverley(1814) a new stage began in his life. All novels were published without his signature, even after 1827, when Scott announced his authorship. Partial success Waverley determined by the same qualities that distinguished Song of the Last Minstrel, – the novelty of the style and vivid descriptions of Scottish customs. Scott's poetry - this is also an important initial period of its development, covering a total of about twenty years, if we consider that Scott’s first experiments were published in the early 1790s, and Waverley, conceived in 1805, was completed only in 1814; This is an important aspect of Scott’s entire creative development as a whole. The aesthetics of Scott's novels is closely related to the aesthetics of his poetry, develops it and incorporates it into the complex structure of his artistic means. That is why this collection of Scott's works devotes such attention to his poetry. There is every reason to assume that Scott’s interest in national poetic antiquity also developed under the influence of German poetry of the late 18th century, under the influence of Herder’s ideas. In 1802-1803, Scott's large book, Songs of the Scottish Border, was published in three editions. Another name has been added to the glorious galaxy of English and Scottish folklorists who collected and studied folk poetry. Scott's book, equipped with a meaningful introduction, a number of interesting notes and a detailed commentary, and sometimes also a recording of the melodies to which this or that ballad was sung, became an event not only in European literature, but also in science at the beginning of the 19th century. Poems. he, in essence, finally defeated the old classicist epic, represented in English literature of the late 18th century by the boundless production of artisan poets. Nine poems by Scott "The Song of the Last Minstrel"; "Marmion"; "Maiden of the Lake"; "The Vision of Don Roderick"; "Rokeby" "Wedding in Triermen"; "Lord of the Islands"; "Field of Waterloo"; "Harold the Fearless") is a whole epic world, rich not only in content and poetic skill, stanza, bold rhyme, innovative metric, enriched by folk verse, but also in genres. For example, the poem “The Song of the Last Minstrel” embodies the genre of a chivalric tale, saturated with the trends of European courtly poetry, of which Scott was a great expert. The poem "Maiden of the Lake" is an example of a historical poem, full of realities and true facts. It is based on a real event, the end of the house of Douglas, broken after a long struggle by the harsh hand of King James II, the main character of Scott's poem. This genre of historical poem, rich in realistic pictures and vivid landscapes, is most fully embodied in the poem "Marmion", which, like "Lord of the Isles", tells the story of the struggle of the Scots against the English conquerors, and especially in the poem "Rokeby". From "Rokeby" a direct path opens to Scott's historical novel. Several interpolated songs from this poem are included in this volume and give an idea of ​​the polyphonic, deeply poetic sound of "Rokeby". In 1830 Scott republished his collection Songs of the Scottish Border with a lengthy preface entitled "Introductory Remarks on the Poetry of the People and on the Various Collections of British (Principally Scottish) Ballads."

^ Question 43. Historical novel by W. Scott: concept of history, connection between people. And the outside world.

Scott created a new art. thinking literature of modern times. The branch of history has moved forward. S. made a turning point, revealed to Europeans their own history, past, and the world of the Middle Ages. The creative method is a complex combination of the prevailing principles of romanticism with pronounced tendencies of realism. Fantasy in novels is associated with the beliefs of peoples and the peculiarities of their worldview in each of the described eras. The advantage of Scott's historical novel is the method of combining a description of private life with historical events. S. never put the individual above society, emphasizing the dependence of the fate of an individual on the course of development of history. “Ivanhoe” (1819), the novel takes place at the end of the 12th century, the struggle between the Anglo-Saxons and the conquering Normans. The Normans win, which is historically natural; victory means the victory of the new general order. Paints a realistic picture of cruel feudal orders and morals. The Middle Ages in the novel are a bloody and gloomy period. The image of King Richard is idealized, this is Scott's conservatism, this led to romanticization. The people and their leaders - Robin Hood (Loxley) - are realistically conveyed. But against the masterfully recreated historical background, when compared with the gallery of original and brilliant images, the central characters - Ivanhoe and Rowena - lose out. Lots of history. Details, details - historical flavor. Walter Scott is characterized by a special composition of his novels - he brings to the fore the life of the people, shows a real picture of life. More vividly reproduces the picture of historical events. Ivanhoe is a multi-faceted, action-packed novel with many characters representing different strata of the time. The novel involves fictional characters and real historical figures. The descriptions of the setting, clothing, and folklore add credibility. Realism is combined with a romantic beginning, which manifests itself in interest in the Middle Ages.

Ivanhoe is a novel about the Middle Ages during the time of Richard the Lionheart. The narration moves slowly, the characters of the novel are described in detail, detailed details. Richard the Lionheart appears in the novel as the Black Knight, but his secret is only revealed at the end. The characters are described quite romantically. In any situation, Ivanhoe acts according to a sense of duty, remains faithful to his beloved Rowena. He took pity on Isaac, gave him a place at the hearth, wins several duels of the knights-templars, saves the beautiful Reveka, without betraying the knightly concepts of honor. Those. Ivanhoe is presented as an ideal romantic hero, with virtually no flaws. Love Ivanhoe. He is in love with Rowena, but fate decreed that he met Reveka, who is perhaps superior to Rowena, she is more courageous and noble. But because Ivanhoe is an ideal romantic hero; he cannot forget his beloved, despite the fact that he thinks about Rebekah. There is another romantic hero - Richard the Lionheart. The romantic Richard is more attracted to the glory of a wandering knight than to victory at the head of a hundred thousand army. The true Richard the Lionheart, as a historical figure, was not a romantic hero at all, but Walter Scott introduced him as another romantic hero who follows the concept of knightly honor. In those days, knightly concepts forbade committing violence against a helpless knight. It is difficult for a knight to remain inactive when valiant deeds are being performed around him. Ivanhoe, despite his wounds, followed Richard to help him. The most terrible crime is betrayal of honor and duty. Construction of the novel. As a result, the author punished the criminals with death because they did not act according to the rules of chivalry. The female images are very bright. The image of Rebekah is more striking than the blond Lady Rowena, who is a typical image of a beautiful lady. And the image of Rebekah is more complex, sent to a special position due to her origin, she is more proud, bold, and courageous. She evaluates the battle under the castle walls differently. Ivanhoe believed that knights should rush into battle, but for her this was scary. She is secretly in love with Ivanhoe. She heals wounds and heals the sick. She has her own concepts of honor, and it is she who, in a situation of choice between life and death, argues with the templar about fate. She is able to objectively and poetically evaluate the character of her captor Boisguillebert. She is not destined to be happy. She embodies the author's idea that self-sacrifice cannot be rewarded. The image of Rowena is a little blurry compared to Reveka, she does not endure all difficulties so steadfastly, when she found out that she would have to marry someone she doesn’t love, she begins to cry. And Reveka acted more boldly in a similar situation - she wanted to throw herself from a great height - she is more courageous and her image is more multifaceted. Briand de Boisguilbert. A very bright image. He appears as a stern, tough person. You can see his attitude towards the church, his faith. Despite his title as a clergyman, he speaks rather vulgarly about the Saxon princess Rowena, not at all like a clergyman. And we don’t see him as a positive character. But then he falls in love with Reveka, his internal struggle is visible. He is ready to give up his title, name, he is ready to abandon himself, disgrace himself for the sake of his passion. At the tournament, when Reveka’s life is being decided, he approaches her and makes a last attempt to run away with her, but she refuses and, which may not be very plausible, then dies from emotional distress, which clearly shows a romantic line (he dies). As a result, Richard received the memory of his descendants, Ivanhoe received the love of his beloved, and Reveka received a clear conscience.

^ Question 44. French romanticism. Main representatives.

The uniqueness of the fate of romanticism in France lies primarily in the fact that it was in the country that created at the turn of the 18th-19th centuries. socio-historical and spiritual prerequisites for the emergence and development of this pan-European movement, romanticism as a worldview and artistic system acquired complete forms later than in other major European literatures - German and English. In any case, it became a national phenomenon only in the 20s, and only from the end of them and during the 30s does it demonstrate a wide palette of specific artistic means of expression inherent in this method. The reasons for this are rooted in the peculiarities of the national destiny of romanticism in France. The romantic concept of personality as an absolute truth gravitates towards the ideal of a genius personality, and the sign of genius becomes, first of all, a creative gift, making the individual potentially omnipotent, in fact, an analogue and true deputy of the creator on earth. Next, talk about the French Revolution ( Romanticism- not just the first in time and one of the most important artistic movements and styles of the 19th century. This term can define an entire culture, a general perception of the world of the historical era that began after the Great French Revolution. In this sense, romanticism manifests itself not only in literature and in art in general, but also in all spheres of social consciousness: science, philosophy, religion, politics, even in everyday life.) At the beginning of the century, the pre-romantic and romantic geniuses of France, in fact, even and do not allow thoughts about the opposition between art and social life. Quite in the spirit of the Enlightenment tradition, Stael, Chateaubriand, Constant, Ballanche, and even the most “unsociable” of them, Senancourt, write treatises on politics, on public morality, on literature “in relation to social institutions.” French romantics carry this interest in the topic of the day through subsequent decades; it appears in different aspects (for example, in the 20s, French romanticism will appear historical, i.e., apparently “not modern,” but in essence will remain acutely political and relevant), the layout of political sympathies and antipathies changes (the characteristic “leftward movement” of romanticism in the 30s - Hugo, Lamartine), but increased excitability in political matters remains unchanged. And in this case we mean not only that, say, the “seraphic” Lamartine comes to politics or that Hugo and George Sand constantly appear as political and social artists. No less significant is how the other, so to speak, anti-political attitude is expressed. Creation Germaine de Stael(1766-1817) represents the strongest connecting link between the Enlightenment and Romantic systems. Steel reproaches French, “classical” literature for being alive with “transplanted” ideas borrowed from the ancients, for being “in no way national” and therefore accessible only to “educated minds”, but not to the general public. popular public. Romantic literature grew on national soil, “out of our beliefs and institutions.” For the classics, literature is primarily a technique and a “profession”; for romantics - “a religious hymn of the soul.” Steel asserts the priority of inspiration over imitation, “genius” over “taste,” and a passionate impulse of spirit over “rule.” The signs of romanticism as a new poetic system appear even more clearly in the works of Francois -René de Chateaubriand (1768-1848), and here they grow on a slightly different traditional basis than in Steel. Chateaubriand, like Stael, owes a lot to sentimentalism, and in his later work classicist features become more active. But Chateaubriand, an aristocrat by birth and conviction, is deeply hostile to the Enlightenment tradition itself and the bourgeois-revolutionary ideology associated with it; he, in fact, from the very beginning firmly chose for himself the role of a zealous defender of the restoration-monarchist principle and the Christian religion. Victor Hugo, author of the novel "Notre Dame Cathedral"", one of the most famous works of world literature, as a writer and as a person is a separate bright page in the history of the 19th century and, above all, in the history of French literature. Moreover, if in French culture Hugo is perceived primarily as a poet, and then as an author of novels and dramas, then in Russia he is known primarily as a novelist. However, despite all such “discrepancies”, invariably against the backdrop of the 19th century he rises as a monumental and majestic figure

^ Alphonse de Lamartine(1790-1869) The first collection Lamartine published, “Poetic Reflections” (1820), contains only a small part of the poems he had previously written. Poetic Reflections certainly contains a lyrical meditation on this topic. But the poet was more successful in poems that revealed to the reader the early 20s of the 19th century. the world of feelings, the experience of the soul. He created true impressions - pictures, closer to painting than to drawing, full of trembling, movement, and sounds. Alfred de Vigny(1797-1863) poems “The Unfaithful Wife” (1819), “Jephthah’s Daughter” (1820), “Trouble” (1820), “Moses” (1822), “Eloah, or the Sister of the Angels” (1824), “The Flood” (1826). George Sand(1804-1876) "Consuelo".

Before Byron, there was no poet who with the same right could lay claim to the role of an idol of his generation, and not only in England. They read Byron's poems, and they openly imitated him (or rather, the lyrical hero in whom they saw the poet's self-portrait). When Byron died, his death was mourned by all thinking Europe. His work represents one of the most significant phenomena in the history of world literary and social thought. His poetic works embodied the most pressing, vital problems of his era. The enormous artistic value of Byron's legacy is inseparable from its historical significance. His poetry, which was a response to the revolutionary upheavals of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, reflected the general position of European romanticism as a special direction in the spiritual life of the era.

Byron was committed to enlightenment ideals and the aesthetics of classicism, however, he is a romantic poet. Admiration for reason is accompanied by the thought of the unreasonableness of modern reality. Recognition of classic rigor and clarity is combined with the depiction of complex and unclear feelings, colored by a gloomy mood. Reality is tested not only by reason, but also by romantic irony. The ideas of the Enlightenment appear in Byron's work in a new, transformed form. The poet no longer has an optimistic belief in the omnipotence of reason.

The pathos of Byron's life and work lies in the struggle against tyranny.

His main dream was the dream of freedom for mankind. However, Byron's ideal of freedom is devoid of social concreteness, so his desire for freedom is individualistic. Byron sees freedom either in a struggle leading to a break with society, or in Epicureanism.

Byron's personality is very contradictory. Various principles struggle in his consciousness and creativity - the desire to fight for the liberation of peoples from tyranny and individualistic sentiments; aspiration forward, to the future and “world sorrow”. Believing that freedom will triumph in the future, the poet, nevertheless, cannot give up skepticism and pessimism.

The poet's difficult childhood influenced his character and attitude. Vulnerability, arrogance, which served as a form of self-defense, melancholy - qualities that define Byron's personality - often set the main tone of his poetry. It appears especially clearly in the famous lyrical cycle “Jewish Melodies” (1815), inspired by reading the Bible:

Sleepless sun! Sad star!

How tearfully your ray always flickers!

How the darkness is even darker with him!

How similar it is to the joy of former days!

This is how the past shines for us in the night of life,

But the powerless rays no longer warm us;

The star of the past is so visible to me in grief;

Visible, but distant - light, but cold!*

(Translation by A.K. Tolstoy)

Byron freely rearranges biblical motifs, and they acquire a romantic sound. The poet's mournful lyrics, filled with a persistent sense of loneliness and stoic courage in the trials sent

fate, fascinated her contemporaries. Translating “Jewish Melodies,” young M. Yu. Lermontov put his own sense of the world into Byron’s lines:

And if fate did not take away hope for a century, -

They will wake up in my chest,

And if there is a drop of tears in the frozen eyes, -

They will melt and spill.*

"My soul is dark"

The burning contempt for the prosperous crowd, voluntary rejection, and the intensity of tragic experiences sounding in Byron's lyrics made it the embodiment of romanticism - both as a worldview and as an aesthetic doctrine. The poems conveyed not only a range of feelings painted in dark tones, but also the energy of protest, love of freedom, and refusal of moral compromises. Previously, it was considered unthinkable to speak with such frankness in a poem about love and hate, insights and charms, torment and rage, scrupulously recreating the whimsical impulses of the soul, and doing it in such a way that the chronicle of heartfelt turmoil at the same time turned out to be a chronicle of the century. Before the romantics, poetry was dominated by generalization and an almost inevitable conventionality of feeling. Byron was the first to turn poetry into confession and diary into a personality unique in its spiritual experience, but at the same time typical of its era.

“The melancholy, caustic force” became the hallmark of Byron’s poetry, which reflected the drama of a generation suffocating in the European atmosphere after the Napoleonic wars. Lermontov conveyed the main motive of this lyric exclusively correctly and sharply:

There are no tears in the eyes, lips are silent,

My chest languishes from secret thoughts,

And these thoughts are eternal poison, -

They can't get through, they can't sleep!*

"Sorry! If they can go to heaven...", 1808

Before Byron, the dominant genre in the field of poetry was the epic poem; Byron's new step in literature is that he created a lyrical poem, which then spread widely throughout all European literature of the 19th century. A term such as Byronism also appears (this is how such a mentality began to be called during the poet’s lifetime). Its essence was aphoristically defined by A. S. Pushkin: “premature old age of the soul” as a drama of time. It is most expressively described in the poem “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage.” It introduces a new type of hero, on whom the meta of time lies. He is tormented by “worldly sorrow” because he has not found refuge anywhere for his faithless soul. Skepticism, selfish self-will, the unfortunate lot of a person who is unable to find a calling, and suffers deeply and hopelessly from it - this is the “fatal illness of the mind and heart” that Byron was the first to recognize. The same human type was depicted in other poems of the poet, created at the time of the highest flowering of his fame.

Byron was fond of satire. The satirical direction in his work developed in various genres - poems, epigrams, parodies, satirical epitaphs. Byron mastered the small form perfectly - in a few lines, in a witty play on words, he managed to convey both the topicality of the event and its accuracy.

When reading some of Byron's poems ("The Giaour", "The Corsair", "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage") one may get the impression that the author is describing himself in the main characters. In reality the situation is more complicated. A distance is maintained between the author and his hero - sometimes the apathy and disbelief in his own abilities that dominate the character cause Byron to bitterly mock his inadequacy.

Byron is an outstanding representative of progressive romanticism. Lyricism, skepticism, sorrow, and “gloomy coldness” were intertwined in his poetry, creating a unique tonality that captured and conquered literally everyone. Many years after his death, B. Zhukovsky gave a remarkably accurate description of the poet: “A high, powerful spirit, but a spirit of denial, pride and contempt. No matter how much Byron disturbs his mind, no matter how he plunges his heart into hopelessness, no matter how excited he is by sensuality, his genius is of extraordinary magnitude.”* His image will remain forever as a symbol of high romance, creative fire, the inseparability of the poetic word and real choice in the social struggle. Determining Byron’s place in world literature, Belinsky pointed out that “every great poet is great because the roots of his suffering and bliss are deeply rooted in the soil of society and history, that he, therefore, is an organ and representative of society, time, humanity.”