Dobrolyubov Alexander Mikhailovich short biography. The meaning of Alexander Mikhailovich Dobrolyubov in a brief biographical encyclopedia

It faded away because winter came. It faded away because its wings were tired.

They think it is eternal. They believe in her immortality.

Bitter, incomprehensible delusion! A child's funny bewilderment!

I didn't come to wake you up. I didn't come to call you.

You know that young birch trees are withering. You know that dried leaves whisper with the wind.

Heavy gravestone. The eyelids of the deceased are even heavier.

Did I get up at night? Did you get up this morning?..

Did I get up at night? Did you get up this morning?

Did you order the candles to be blown out or lit?

Who was I talking to? Was he the only one who was silent?

What did you collect? what did you lose?

Where did you smile? Who started crying?

Where? on the plain? or in a mountainous country?

Am I a child, or a star on high?

Did you remember anything, or did you forget in half sleep?

Am I above the flower, or is the grave on me?

Am I spring, or am I sad about spring?

Are the waters flowing? Is the wine boiling?

Is everything different? are they all the same?

Am I in a dark field? Am I the field dark?

Am I a boy? or died a long time ago?

Did you want everything? or is everything destined?

Other faithful people asked me

Other faithful people asked me:

Why did you wander in the mountains for so many years?

Who were you looking for on the face of the earth?

You've been looking for a pure friend all your life,

Life gives you eternal friendship...

Don't be afraid, tell me, good fellow,

And we can’t be happier about you,

We will stay awake in the dark nights

And we will light our pre-dawn fires,

Penetrating far through the window,

Penetrating into the deep night...

We will study all the books of wisdom,

Let's strengthen ourselves with a midnight conversation.

I answer you, free ones:

And I will tell you the truth, the truth.

I was looking for an unchanging language

And frankly to slaves and kings

It is clear to both rich and poor,

Like lightning enveloping,

Whether from the east to the west.

I searched among people, among animals, in forests,

I listened to the talk of the waves, listened to the song of the stars.

The quiet rivers answered me:

O listener, studyer, performer!

We will reveal to you a secret word:

Beasts have their own language, stones have their own language,

But we are your unnamed brothers,

Brothers - all of you - eternal and dear.

And in the streams and in the people there is another language,

There is one language that is all-encompassing, penetrating,

Like love, like life, like immortality, intoxicating.

Wild animals answered me,

Low people opened up to me,

Wise people explained to me,

The roadside springs whispered to me:

You are looking for a comprehensive language

From the east of heaven to the west!

So that the forests tremble from your song,

So that at the sound of your song the wild animals may be at peace,

May spring conquer the fierce winter!

May there be no end to this eternal spring!

Like the tree is covered with snow...

Like the whole tree is covered with snow,

You can’t recognize that thought instantly.

Unravel the hidden meaning of the clothes.

Like a storm, the spring dress shines,

Beauty illuminated all worlds,

From the most delicate dots the finest pattern,

Power shines in him.

Here the atoms move exactly in circles,

The suns and the rotation of the universe are reflected,

And someone set the task here to find

The road of dreams and moments.

Here the fire-ocean beats on the shore

And hits the rocky cliffs,

He forgot the blows of cruel wounds,

He dreams of spring dew.

Here the fire-beauty splashes over the edge,

She melts everyone into unity in the crucible,

And the storm rushes through everything, across the edges,

Outside, the apple tree is illuminated with brilliance.

Liteiny on a spring morning

A bright thread goes into the distance

A proud, close row of houses.

The shadows fade, slightly wavering,

And the spring even sun

Every stone is illuminated.

Faces look sternly at the windows,

The stern thoughts of the high walls,

Strictly carved in the sky

Church with a dark bell tower.

You passed by slyly

Again the light of dawn...

The eyes smiled cheekily.

Peace be with you, O mountains!..

Peace be with you, O mountains!

Silence of the night

My strength.

One prayer,

Single name

My rock.

thicket of the forest,

Where hermits roam

My joy.

Where do the hares jump?

Where are the mountain goats?

The land is mine.

Dreams and visions -

Ghosts of the world

And the world is immaterial

The fight is mine.

Chains, roads,

Prisons, freedom

My destiny.

The wanderer's rags

It contains a precious diamond

My secret.

The beginning of a new land

I became a baby again, winter is over,

And on the wet roads there was a breath of spring,

Until dawn my joy awakened me,

And the hand opened the eyes and closed them,

And I heard in bed a ringing sound over the water.

I was the son of mother earth, and all the noises of the earth

They were as familiar to me as a baby's cradle.

And again I looked at the dear features,

And my native birch tree spoke to me

And also bare ash and spruce trees.

And I walked in the great universal union,

With each friend, like a slave, I breathed the same life,

For me you dressed me with all the feasting radiance

My heart and the sky and the ledges of rocks.

And again my body was fast and easy,

And in my chest Spring passed into my city,

Under the window the river rang and sang.

And I got up, praying, from a deep sleep.

But the prison walls rose all around

And over everything that I loved, winter lurked

And there was no sign of treason anywhere on the outside...

Nevsky at sunset

The moisture shivers refreshingly.

The line of faces is slow...

Thin, soft spots...

The noises fade indistinctly.

Light towers. In the distance

Light shadows have fallen.

Hanging like a cloudy chain

Walls. Like the highest ghosts,

They are dozing motionless at home.

The night is warming incomprehensibly.

Colors ripple... in a dream

The leaf on the window sways.

To a deceased friend

Few moments left...

Until I again submit to habits and sleep,

Enter silently into the evening peace!

Brothers, sisters and mother left. I am alone.

Great sadness for you overcomes me.

Oh darling! Don’t laugh at this dry sadness!

All great feelings had a companion - coldness.

For some reason, I believe that during your lifetime you were yearning for love for me?

For your health I swallow bitter mash.

Past, present and future

You go your own way,

Separating two abysses,

The abyss of the past and the abyss of the future,

Continuously running away from you

And forever alien to you.

You only step where you step;

Your life is only where the moment is,

Where is the transitory, where everything runs away, where there is nothing!

But try to be wise and joyful:

Enjoy the nothingness of existence.

And be afraid of dreams of something alien:

The memory remains in the depths of the forest,

And may it not shine before you

An annoying bright home,

Forever lost, forever dear...

Let the present live strong

And triumphs in sober glory!

But let it be more dazzling than sobriety

Have a young future!

And don't be afraid of such dreams!

There I hear the sounds of military horns!

I see someone's joyless gaze!

There, perhaps, my will will rise again

And he will show his omnipotence!

There she desires and awaits her incarnations.

Light

Woe! the flowers have bloomed... I'm getting drunk.

The incense wanders and grows silently.

Something has woken up again unreasonably,

Someone whispers painfully: “I’m sorry.”

Have you come back again and are crying?

Bright hands tremble incomprehensibly...

Your braids have run loose... indistinct

Lips whisper... you come back and cry.

Starry sky, flowers bloomed...

Dull tears fall slowly.

Reproaches are heard, threats are awakened...

Woe! the flowers have bloomed!

Light painting

Secret, swell-clad splashes are removed. The smell of stray light is removed.

Uneven river fogs sway. The sound of a dying song fluctuates.

Their misty hands curl quietly. Cold dew curls up.

Didn't the sharp outlines of the forest tremble? Didn't the curtain that silvers the evening tremble?

Then the leaves of motionless trees turned gray. Then the astringent gloom turned gray.

Fairy tale for children

Here comes the treacherous sea

And lights in a dangerous expanse.

At dawn the sails shine over the expanse,

They call for hope.

They are looking for accurate news

About the dead princess bride.

In the hands of a dwarf - her life is dear,

The thresholds of her dreams are closed.

The sails will arouse her confusion,

The fighting rose up madly.

They will bring her a word,

And that word will be - road.

And the one you've never seen

He will convey that he saw you from the beginning.

The ancient fairy tales have been resurrected into reality,

It contains all the ancient and all the newest colors.

Only snow-white color is victorious,

And he glides bravely over the abyss.

Patterns hung over the garden

Patterns hung over the garden,

Then lofty thoughts shine.

The current rushes uncontrollably,

Outside the flowers are only birth.

Powerful storms are raging,

Outside is a sea of ​​azure.

Let the stone move slowly

Uncontrollably-instantly blooming.

And the path to the goal is unknown,

But the storm keeps rushing after it,

Where the breath of bliss blows,

Where the apple trees all shine in the snow.

Flower

Calm breathes in the sparkling flowers,

They were born of power and strength.

She is whiteness, the unity of all colors,

Nature has conquered the darkness here.

Here all the storms rushed, the waves split,

And wounds, and lightning, and a tear shone here,

And the rainbow directed everyone towards whiteness,

And suddenly silence arose over the abyss of all forces.

Russian lands are like sufferers,

All who have comprehended, all who have forgiven, all who have justified.

Illuminated with the joy of infancy,

All the seals have been removed from the book,

The sword of the earth, who crushed the love of the earth,

All wealth, servility and murder - all trampled.

Those who carried out His commands in simplicity,

In small and great things - like slaves, like children who performed.

The grass whispers to my dreams...

The grass whispers to my dreams,

The smell of dew and forest streams.

Do you hear? flowers are growing and blooming.

Open your eyes! don't look at the graves.

The grass sways softly, sadly.

The morning moisture washed the leaves.

The grass whispers to my dreams,

I feel intoxication in my moments -

All the incense, all the life's aspirations -

The smell of dew and forest streams.

I will return to you, my dear fields and roads...

I will return to you, dear fields and roads,

You are the years that, like friends, have always surrounded me.

Since the morning of days I have longed for you, living rivers,

But harsh people, blind element

Carried me away from the heavenly day.

But one day I escaped from the unsociable crowd

And I ran to those rivers of mine - faithful, beloved.

I walked among the forests in space and freedom,

I didn't think about the way people looked at me

A shelter was ready for me in the lowest people,

The sister birds in the forests noticed me.

Early one morning He opened the doors for me.

Called him loudly and secretly,

We went to your mountains, and young animals

We were greeted by bending at the foot of the rocks.

I will return to you, ways and days that are holy to me,

I will return to you, mourning and living and loving,

All praise, all our earthly treasures

And I will also give all righteousness for You.

I will cover myself with a robe of gold,

Sister spring will return my shine,

I will dress myself forever in whiteness and sparkle

And I’ll drink spring wine with friends.

This city fought with my purity:

Even the best of them fought against my faith,

And then they laughed at me,

They imprisoned me in their cramped prisons.

But listen, city, I declare to you:

Your darkness and the beauty of your walls breathe death.

I reject both prison and your temple,

In your knowledge and faith your captivity is the same.

(1876 - spring 1945?) - Russian symbolist poet, known not so much for his poetry as for his life creativity.

The father is an active state councilor, who served the nobility, and served in Warsaw. After his death in 1892, Dobrolyubov moved to St. Petersburg. He wrote poetry back in school years, after moving, he became interested in the poetry and lifestyle of Western European symbolists, especially Baudelaire, Verlaine, Mallarmé, Maeterlinck, Edgar Allan Poe. He shared his admiration for “decadence” with V. Gippius (a distant relative of Zinaida Gippius) and became close, in particular, with V. Bryusov and N. Minsky. Studied at the Faculty of Philology of St. Petersburg University. He smoked hashish, and the cult of death he preached reportedly led his university colleagues to commit suicide, as a result of which he himself was expelled. He published his first book with his own funds.

In 1898, he broke with the bohemian way of life and, in deep repentance, began to seek support in Christianity. He turned to John of Kronstadt, went as a pilgrim to the Trinity-Sergius Lavra and to Moscow, and by the end of 1898 he went to a monastery on the Solovetsky Islands to become a monk. His Symbolist friends (primarily V. Ya. Bryusov) published the book “Collected Poems” (1900) without him. At the beginning of the summer of 1899, he left the monastery to go on a pilgrimage across Russia and, opposing himself to the state and the Church, to found a sect (in the Orenburg and Samara region). In 1901 for inciting the refusal of military service was arrested, but soon, with the help of his mother, was released as a mentally ill person. Subsequently, from time to time from the Volga region, where he was in 1905-1915. was the head of the “Dobrolyubov” sect (he himself called his followers “brothers”), visited Moscow and St. Petersburg; according to Merezhkovsky, Dobrolyubov was endowed enormous power spiritual impact. His latest collection the lyrics “From the Invisible Book” (1905) testifies to the neglect of earthly goods; here he declares his renunciation of literature. The collection is full of religious poems and poems in folklore style; “The Birch Tree’s Complaint on Trinity Day” is an example of how both lines contradict each other. The collection was supported by Valery Bryusov, who five years earlier compiled the “Collected Poems of Dobrolyubov”; Bryusov's wife and sister looked through the layout. During these years, Dobrolyubov also met with L. Tolstoy, who was deeply impressed by the personality of the head of the sect, but not by his work as a poet.

After the revolution, his traces are lost. Until 1923, he lived with his followers in Siberia (near Slavgorod), in 1923-1925 near Samara, doing earthworks, in 1925-1927 he led a nomadic life in Central Asia, then worked in an artel of stove makers in Azerbaijan. During these years, he also corresponded with I.M. Bryusova, the widow of the poet, and V.V. Veresaev. These letters contain some poems and four manifestos, indicating that Dobrolyubov sought to return to literature. It is interesting that the author of the letters has achieved complete simplification - they were written by an illiterate person. He died in 1945, apparently, immediately after the war.

Alexander Mikhailovich Dobrolyubov( - spring ?) - Russian symbolist poet, known not so much for his poetry as for his life creativity.

...the most daring of the early decadent life-builders: he behaved like a priest, smoked opium, lived in a black room, etc.; then he went “to the people” and founded the “Dobrolyubovtsy” sect; At the end of his life, he almost forgot how to write correctly, although back in the 1930s, forgotten by everyone, he made attempts to publish.

Biography

There is an opinion that, perhaps, the only legendary figure of decadence was Alexander Dobrolyubov (Alexander Kobrinsky, Conversation through Dead Space).

The myth about Alexander Dobrolyubov, which began to take shape already at the beginning of the development of Russian symbolism, was finally formed when Dobrolyubov left literature and broke with the literary and artistic circle. Of course, not only Dobrolyubov came to the thought of inferiority literary creativity compared to life. Dmitry Merezhkovsky admitted in his autobiography that in his youth he “walked through the villages, talked with peasants” and “intended to ‘go among the people’ after graduating from university, to become a rural teacher.” The futurist poet Bozhidar dreamed of going to the ends of the world, to wild peoples, not spoiled by civilization. But only Dobrolyubov (and after him, the poet Leonid Semenov) managed to show consistency.

Notes

Sources

• Kazak V. Lexicon of Russian literature of the 20th century = Lexikon der russischen Literatur ab 1917. - M.: RIK "Culture", 1996. - 492 p. - 5000 copies. - ISBN 5-8334-0019-8
• Ivanova E. V. Alexander Dobrolyubov - a mystery of his time // New Literary Review. 1997, no. 27.

Links

• Section of A. M. Dobrolyubov in M. Moshkov’s library
• N. A. Bogomolov (Moscow). Creative self-consciousness in real life (intelligentsia and anti-intellectualism in the Russian consciousness of the late 19th - early 20th centuries)

Categories:

• Personalities in alphabetical order
• Writers by alphabet
• Born on September 8
• Born in 1876
• Born in Warsaw
• Died in 1945
• Died in Ujary
• Founders of sects
• Pacifists
• Poets of Russia
• Russian poets
• Russian symbolism

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• Dobrolensky, Yuri Pavlovich
• Dobrolyubov, Vasily Ivanovich

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