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התרגומים לאנגלית נעשו באמצעות המנוע "מתרגם גוגל" והתרגום הועתק לאתר בצורתו המקורית ללא עריכה נוספת
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Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva (Russian: Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva; 26 September [8 October] 1892 , Moscow-31 August 1941, Elabuga) was a Russian poet of the Silver Age, novelist, translator. Marina Tsvetaeva was born on September 26 (October 1892 in Moscow. Tsvetaeva herself celebrated her birthday on October 9, associating it with the day of commemoration of the Apostle John the Theologian according to the Orthodox calendar, which she noted, among other things, in several of her works. On August 31, 1941, she committed suicide (hanged herself) in the house of the Brodelshchikovs, where, together with her son, she was assigned to a post. She left three suicide notes: to those who would bury her (this note later became known under the conditional name "evacuees"), Aseev with the Sinyakov sisters and her son. The original note to the "evacuees" has not been preserved (it was seized as material evidence by the police and lost), its text is known from the list that Was allowed to make George Efron. Note to son: Murlyga! Forgive me, but it would be worse. I'm seriously ill, it's not me anymore. I love you madly. Know I couldn't live anymore. Tell Dad and Ala-if you see-that I loved them until the last minute and explain that you are at a dead end. Note by Aseev: Dear Nikolay Nikolaevich, Dear Siniakov sisters, I implore you to take Moore to your place in Chistopol-just take him as a son-and that he study. I can't do anything else for him and only ruin him. I have 450 rubles in my bag and if you try to sell all my things. In the chest there are several handwritten books of poems and a pack with prints of prose. I entrust them to you. Take care of my dear Moore, he is very fragile health. Love as a son-deserves. And I'm sorry. I couldn't stand it. MC. Never leave him. I would be insanely happy if I lived with you. If you leave, take it with you. Don't quit! Note to the "evacuees": Dear comrades, Don't leave Moore. I implore one of you who can take him to Chistopol to N. N. Aseev. Steamships are terrible, I beg him not to send him alone. Help him with luggage-fold and deliver. In Chistopol I hope for a sale of my belongings. I want Moore to live and study. He'll be gone with me. Adr. Aseev on the envelope. Don't bury it alive! Take a good look. Marina Tsvetaeva was buried on September 2, 1941 at the Petropavlovsk Cemetery in Elabuga. The exact location of her grave is unknown. On the southern side of the cemetery, near the stone wall, where her lost last refuge is located, in 1960, the sister of the poetess, Anastasia Tsvetaeva,"between four unknown graves of 1941" installed a cross with the inscription "Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva is buried in this side of the cemetery". In 1970, a granite tombstone was built on this site. Later, being already over the age of 90, Anastasia Tsvetaeva began to assert that the tombstone is located at the exact place of burial of her sister and all doubts are just speculation. Since the early 2000s, the location of the granite tombstone, framed by tiles and hanging chains, according to the decision of the Union of Writers of Tatarstan is called the "official grave of M. I. Tsvetaeva". The exposition of the Memorial Complex of M. I. Tsvetaeva in Elabuga also shows a map of the memorial site of the Petropavlovsk cemetery with an indication of two "versioned" graves of Tsvetaeva-according to the so-called "Churbanov" version and the "Matveevskaya" version. Among literary critics and local historians there is still no single evidentiary point of view on this issue.
Analysis of the poem "How many of them fell into this abyss" Tsvetaeva. The work of M. Tsvetaeva is a striking phenomenon in Russian poetry. The poetess began writing poetry at an early age, at the age of 18 she published her first collection. Already the first works of Tsvetaeva carry a deep philosophical content. The poetess lost her mother early, which is probably why the theme of death occupies an important place in her work. The poem “How many of them fell into this abyss ...” (1913) is devoted to this topic. The reflection of the lyrical heroine begins with the recognition of the inevitability of death. The first part describes the cessation of physical existence, the disappearance "from the surface of the earth." Tsvetaeva first presents her death in a detached way with the help of impersonal verbs, then her reflection takes on a deeply personal character. Death is the disappearance of "green eyes" and "gentle voice". The lyrical heroine notes that her death will not affect the rest of the world in any way, everything will remain as before. This is the deep horror of the experience. As long as a person exists in his physical incarnation, he is able to influence other people. Tsvetaeva does not mention any variant of life after death. For her, this is not important, because no one has yet established contact with the world of the dead. It is important that with the death of a person, all his rich inner world with his feelings, emotions, experiences disappears. Tsvetaeva always acutely felt her individuality. She can hardly accept that her unique and inimitable personality will disappear forever. From physical properties, she proceeds to describe her habits and inclinations. Variability, love for evenings by the fireplace, a penchant for music and forest walks are the infinitely sweet and dear qualities of her soul to the poetess, making her, ultimately, a living person “on the gentle earth”. It can be concluded that Tsvetaeva does not want any other form of existence associated with the loss of physical sensations. In the final part of the poem, the poetess addresses all her contemporaries "with the demand of faith and with a request for love." She asks to love her for the totality of her positive and negative qualities, for her youth, which can suddenly end, for her pride. In a word, Tsvetaeva asks to love her only because she is a living person who, unfortunately, is mortal. The last argument of the poetess is very effective - "for the fact that I will die." The deeply intimate nature of the poem does not exclude universal meaning. The devaluation of the individual makes it relevant in our time.
“How many have fallen into this abyss”(1913). Marina Tsvetaeva is a poet of a tragic attitude. She realized too early the transience of everything earthly and realized that death always goes along with life, constantly reminding of itself. Researchers of the poetess's work note that the spirit of death hovered in the Tsvetaev family. Marina's mother grew up without a mother, the latter died when the girl was 19 days old, Tsvetaeva's father was a 44-year-old widower at the time of his marriage to her mother, Tsvetaeva's mother had been ill with tuberculosis since 1902, after 4 years of treatment she died. Marina at that time was 13 years old. In August 1913, the poet's father died. The theme of death is also devoted to the poem "How many of them fell into this abyss." The work is imbued with a tragic sense of fate and an ardent thirst for life, the desire to leave its mark on the world. Tsvetaevsky's text formed the basis of Alla Pugacheva's song " Requiem" (Monologue). The music was written by the famous Soviet and Russian composer Mark Minkov. Many musicologists and admirers of Alla Borisovna's work consider "Requiem" a masterpiece in the artist's repertoire. How many of them have fallen into this abyss, Opening in the distance! The day will come when I will disappear from the surface of the earth. Everything that sang and fought, shone and torn, will freeze. And the green of my eyes, and a gentle voice, And the gold of my hair. And there will be life with its daily bread, With the forgetfulness of the day. And everything will be - as if under the sky And there was no me! Changeable, like children, in every mine, And so short-lived evil, Who loved the hour when the firewood in the fireplace Turns into ashes. The cello, and the cavalcades in the thicket, And the bell in the village...- Me, so alive and real On the gentle earth! To all of you - what is it to me, who did not know the measure in anything, Aliens and my own ?! -I make a demand of faith And a request for love. And day and night, both in writing and orally: For the truth yes and no, For the fact that I am so often too sad And only twenty years old, For the fact that I am a direct inevitability-Forgiveness of insults, For all my unbridled tenderness And too proud view, For the speed of swift events, For the truth, for the game...- Listen! - Still love me For the fact that I will die.
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