The comprehensive theme of love in the lyrics of M.I. Tsvetaeva
The comprehensive theme of love in the lyrics of M. I. Tsvetaeva
I. About lyrical hero M. Tsvetaeva.
II. Love is the main theme of M. Tsvetaeva's poetry.
1. A feeling that knows no boundaries.
2. Love for the Motherland.
3. Love and death.
III. The eternal theme of love.
Love! Love! And in convulsions, and in the coffin
I will be alert - I will be seduced - I will be embarrassed - I will rush.
Oh honey! Not in a coffin snowdrift,
I won’t say goodbye to you in the cloud.
M. Tsvetaeva
The concept of the lyrical hero as the subject of the statement, not identical to the author of the work, is not applicable to the poems of Marina Tsvetaeva: her lyrical heroine is always equal to the personality of the poet. The law of her lyrics is the ultimate, absolute sincerity. And all the works written by her are about love. Whatever the poetess devoted her poems to, they were always dictated by love: for a person, for a word, for life and even for death.
Love for Marina Tsvetaeva is a feeling that knows no boundaries, does not recognize limits. You can declare love - shout out! - around the world:
I wrote on the slate board
And on the leaves of faded fans,
And on the river, and on the sea sand,
Skates on the ice, and a ring on the windows, -
And on the trunks, which are hundreds of winters,
And finally, for everyone to know! -
What do you love! love! love! love! -
Signed - a rainbow of heaven.
Love is always a miracle, a mystery; attracts, charms, captivates ... The four-fold first line of the poem “Where does such tenderness come from? ..” creates an unusual rhythmic pattern, a special poetic intonation of the work:
Why such tenderness?
Not the first - these curls
I smooth and lips
I knew - darker than yours.
Stars rise and fall
(Where does this tenderness come from?)
Eyes rise and fall
At my very eyes...
In the article “The Poet and Time”, M. Tsvetaeva writes: “Each poet is essentially an emigrant… An emigrant from the Kingdom of Heaven and the earthly paradise of nature… An emigrant from Immortality into time. A non-returner to his own sky.” Theme of love for native land Tsvetaeva sounds tragic. Eternal loneliness, the spiritual cosmopolitanism of the poetess, with which she pays for her "wingedness", for being chosen by God, constitutes her eternal, incurable pain:
So the edge did not save me
My, that and the most vigilant detective
Along the whole soul, the whole - across!
Birthmark will not be found!
Every house is alien to me, every temple is empty to me,
And everything is the same, and everything is one.
But if on the way - a bush
It rises, especially the mountain ash ...
The pause that cut off the words of the renunciation speaks more eloquently of love for the motherland than the most ardent, pathetic doxology.
The theme of death occupies a special place in the work of the poetess. Death does not seem to stop life, is unable to interrupt the dialogue of the poetess with the living. The theme of the poem “Come, like me…” is life and death. It is built as a dialogue with an imaginary descendant, and this dialogue sounds clear and strong, the “voice from under the ground” does not embarrass, does not reproach, it asserts: life is one. And simple cemetery flowers, and the rejection of hypocritical grief, and a reminder: I was too! I loved to laugh! - all this affirms: there is no death, there is eternal love, a force that binds both the living and those who once lived. This feeling makes Marina look intently at the portrait on the wall (the poem "Grandmother"), tells her an amazing oxymoron: "young grandmother." And exclamation:
- Grandmother! This violent rebellion
In my heart - is it not from you? .. -
About the same thing: life goes on, and death makes the love of life brighter, sharper.
Whatever Marina Tsvetaeva writes about - about her native land, about loved ones and dear people, about joy and suffering - all her works are united by one theme: these are poems about love. Eternal, inexhaustible, vital theme, inspiring poets, close to everyone, making us human.
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It is impossible to imagine the heroine of Tsvetaeva's lyrics outside of love, which would mean for her outside of life. The anticipation of love, the expectation of it, disappointment in a loved one, jealousy, the pain of separation - all these states of Tsvetaeva's heroine are captured in love lyrics in numerous nuances. can be quiet, trembling, reverent, gentle - and reckless, spontaneous. However, it is always internally dramatic.
The young heroine feels the variability, the captivatingness of every moment with particular acuteness. The desire to remain in the memory of a loved one sounds, for example, in the poem "Inscription in an Album" (1909-1910):
Let me be just a verse in your album
Barely singing like a spring...
Let it be.
But here in the semi-history
You hung over the page...
You will remember everything...
You hold back the scream...
Let me be just a verse in your album!
Love never becomes a serene delight for the lyrical heroine. In love, she asserts her right to act. She is resolute and uncompromising both in affirmation (“I will win you back from all lands, from all heavens ...”) and in denial (“Gypsy passion of separation! You just meet - you are rushing away!”). “About this” Tsvetaeva writes both the tragic “Poem of the Mountain”, “The Poem of the End” (1924), and lyrical miniatures of an almost diary nature:
And in the confinement of winter rooms
And the sleepy Kremlin -
I will remember, I will remember
Spacious fields.
And the light rustic air
And noon, and peace, -
And a tribute to my female pride
Your tears are masculine.
Tsvetaeva's heroine is inconceivable without admiration, admiration for her beloved. The recklessness of feelings makes her love all-encompassing. True feeling, according to Tsvetaeva, lives not only in the innermost depths of the soul, but also permeates the whole the world. Therefore, the very phenomena of this world in the mind of the heroine are often connected with the image of the beloved. This is evidenced, for example, by the 1923 poem "The Builder of Strings...":.
... (In this June
You cry, you are the rain!)
And if we have thunder on the roofs,
Rain - in the house, downpour - entirely, -
So you're writing me a letter,
which you do not send.
You furrow the brain like a verse ...
The movement of one human heart to another is a natural part of being, an immutable law of life. The conditionality of human ties by this law is emphasized in the poem "The world began in the darkness of the nomad camp ...". (1917), where the gravitation of hearts, the search for protection and peace, the search for warmth, is compared to the wandering of stars and trees.
Tsvetaeva's heroine is convinced that feelings have huge force, they can be subject to distance and time. In the poem "No one took away anything ..." (1916), she writes:
Tender and irrevocable
Nobody looked after you...
Kiss you - through the hundreds
Separating years.
The heroine is characterized by the desire to overcome all the obstacles that stand in the way of feelings, to overcome the influence and pressure of circumstances. (Let's recall Pushkin's: “Love and friendship will reach you / They will reach through the gloomy gates ...”) Concentration of the soul, immersion in love is an important feature of the lyrical heroine. She makes too high an account of herself and others to be content with " average temperature» passions.
However, Tsvetaeva's love lyrics reveal to us a soul not only rebellious, self-willed, but also unprotected, vulnerable, thirsty for understanding. She urgently needs the participation of a loving heart:
Inexhaustible tenderness - suffocates.
At least love Altyn - I will accept!
Indifferent friend! -
So scared to listen
Black midnight in an empty house!
The theme of failed love acquires a tragic sound from Tsvetaeva. Main drama love for the heroine - in the "clearing" of souls, non-meeting. Two people meant for each other are forced to part. Many things can separate them - circumstances, people, time, impossibility of understanding, lack of sensitivity, mismatch of aspirations. One way or another, too often Tsvetaeva's heroine has to comprehend the "science of parting." This is also mentioned in a 1921 poem from the Separation cycle:
Everything is cooler, everything is cooler
Wring your hands!
There is not a mile between us
Earthly, - separation
Heavenly rivers, azure lands,
Where is my friend forever already -
Inherent.
Only in another better world- in the world of "intentions", in the words of Tsvetaeva, it is possible to acquire the fullness of feeling: "not here, where it is twisted, / but where it is set." Only there everything that did not come true comes true. And when earthly life breeds people who are necessary to each other (“And he won’t look back / Life is thick-browed! / There is no date here! / There is only seeing off ...”), Tsvetaeva, with all the energy of the poetic “I”, rebels against this. So, in one of the most dramatic poems about love - "Distance: miles, miles ..." (1925) we hear not an impotent complaint or lamentation, but an angry, furious cry. The lines of the poem do not sound like a list of losses, but like an accusation. The poet's word resists the terrible elements of the destruction of human ties.
Let us dwell in more detail on two poems - “For Joy” (collection “ magic lantern") and love! Love! And in convulsions, and in the coffin ... "(1920).
In the first poem, Tsvetaeva jubilantly proclaims the joy of being. Love sharpens the perception of the world to the utmost. In everything, the heroine in love sees poetry - and the mysterious "dusty roads" that go into the distance, remembering many travelers, and in the short-lived charm of "huts for an hour", and in the fabulous "animal lairs", and in captivatingly beautiful, like early music, "halls". Love gives her a sense of the fullness of life: "Dear, dear, we are like gods: / The whole world is for us!" The confidence that for lovers the house is everywhere, the house is the whole world sounds victorious here! It seems to them that everything around them was created for them alone, it is easy for them everywhere, and therefore the heroine exclaims with such enthusiasm: “Everywhere we are at home in the world.” It is love that returns to the heroine the childish feeling of power over the world. Hence the rejection of the “home circle”, because at this moment the “space and greenery of the meadow” is dearer to her. At this moment, it is so important for her to feel freedom, to see the rainbow palette of being, to feel the scope for her feelings, thoughts, her heart, her soul. She is captivated and captivated by love, and everything else seems unimportant, unimportant. So far, she does not want any other captivity - even the captivity of a cozy home - except for the sweet, happy, selfless captivity of love: "Dear, dear, from each other / We are forever in captivity!"
A kind of oath of allegiance to love can be called the second poem:
And in convulsions, and in the coffin
I will be on my guard - I will be seduced - I will be embarrassed - I will rush.
Oh honey! -
Not in a coffin snowdrift,
I won’t say goodbye to you in the cloud.
For the heroine endowed with a warm heart, love is also an opportunity for complete self-expression, self-disclosure. This is the wealth of the soul, which she is ready to generously and recklessly share, it is in this that she sees the purpose and meaning of her existence: “And not for that I have a pair of beautiful wings / Dana to keep pounds in my heart!” Love, according to Tsvetaeva, liberates the soul, gives a sense of inner freedom, re-opens the person himself. Hence the proud confidence: "Swaddled, eyeless and voiceless / I will not multiply the miserable settlement." Love reveals huge mental strength- forces capable of resisting death itself:
Elastic mill
With a single wave from your swaddling clothes,
Death, I'll kill you! -
Verst per thousand in the district
Melted snow - and a forest of bedrooms.
Love is eternal, according to the poet, it is merged with the world of nature and art, since it is the embodiment of creativity being. Love cannot die - it is eternally reborn, being inspired by transformation. Even loving person leaves earthly life, his love remains in this world, so that, “laughing at decay, rise in verse - or bloom like roses!”.
Need to download an essay? Click and save - "The theme of love in the lyrics of M. I. Tsvetaeva. And the finished essay appeared in the bookmarks.Another sacred theme of Tsvetaeva's lyrics is the theme of love. I don’t know another poetess who would write about her feelings like that.
From seduction to disappointment - such is the "love cross" of Tsvetaeva's heroine; passions and characters were revealed in verse, the images of living people were completely destroyed in his mind. Only person, whose image neither in life nor in poetry was not only not destroyed, but did not fade at all, was Sergey Efron. "I wrote on a slate board ..." - this is the name of the poem dedicated to her husband. In it, Tsvetaeva declares her love: the fourfold repetition of the word "love" speaks of the desire for this feeling, of joy, of happiness:
And finally, for everyone to know! -
What do you love! love! love! love! -
Painted with a heavenly rainbow.
The earth is not enough for her, she needs the sky, so that it hears and knows about her love. In the last lines of the poem, Tsvetaeva vows to perpetuate her husband's name:
Unsold by me! - Inside the ring!
You will survive on the tablets.
The poet is always an addicted nature, the poet, loving, forgets about everything in the world, except for the person whom he has chosen as his half. Marina Tsvetaeva herself created a loved one, created him the way she wanted to wear and broke when this person could not withstand her onslaught of feelings, tension in relationships, the state of "always being on the crest of a wave." We know that Tsvetaeva is not easy in relations with people, this is her essence, her condition. She gave herself to love all, without a trace, without looking back. In the poem of the cycle "N. N. V." "Prigvozhzhdena", dedicated to Vysheslavtsev, a graphic artist, interesting person, given the apotheosis of love unheard of, grandiose, not afraid of death. Almost every line here sounds like a formula:
Nailed to the pillory
I'll still say that I love you.
... You will not understand - my words are small! -
How little pillory I have!
(Nailed, 1920)
No conflict can be equal to this love, for which the heroine will give up everything:
What if the banner was entrusted to me by the regiment,
And suddenly you appeared before my eyes -
With another in hand - petrified like a pillar,
My hand would release the banner...
Tsvetaeva's heroine is ready to die for love; to be a beggar, she is not afraid to lose blood, because even in an unearthly life - in the land of "silent kisses" - she will love her chosen one.
Tsvetaeva contrasts the love of a mother for her son and the love of a woman for a man, believing that even a mother is not able to love her child as much as a woman loves a man, and therefore the mother is ready to “die” for her son, and she is “to die”.
When in the earth ordinary life a woman loves a man, she tries to be proud, even if it is very difficult for her, not to humiliate herself, not to stoop to the point where it will be unpleasant for the man himself to be around.
"Correct" the last part - "Lower than your feet, Lower than herbs", she did not sink, she did not lose her pride (what pride - when you love ?!) because she was nailed by the hand of her beloved - "a birch in a meadow." She is not afraid of gossip and condemnation: "And not the roar of the crowds - That the pigeons coo early in the morning ..."
The third part of this poem differs from the first two: it has six couplets, of which the first and last stanzas sound like a hymn of love. A hymn to Tsvetaeva's love, for every woman in love is capable of "to be - or not to be", for her if "to be" - then with love, beloved, if "not to be" - then not to be at all:
You wanted it. - So. - Hallelujah.
I kiss the hand that hits me.
... In the thunder of the cathedral - in order to beat to death! -
You, white lightning soared scourge!
(Nailed, 1920)
Lightning - it kills, it is instantaneous, but to die at the hands of a loved one, apparently, for Tsvetaeva's heroine is happiness, which is why there is an exclamation mark at the end of the line.
Tsvetaeva dedicated a few words to her husband Sergei Efron. Great human devotion and admiration is expressed in the poem "I proudly wear his ring!"
He is thin with the first subtlety of the branches.
His eyes are - beautifully - useless! -
Under the wings of open eyebrows -
Two abysses...
(To Sergei Efron, 1920)
Just a boy - he was in his eighteenth year - he was a year younger than Marina. Tall, thin, a little dark. With a beautiful, thin and spiritual face, on which huge bright eyes beamed, shone, sad:
Has huge eyes
The colors of the sea...
(To Sergei Efron, 1920)
Family, "Efron's" eyes - the same were the sisters of Serezha, and then the daughter of Tsvetaeva. "A stranger enters the room, you see these eyes and you already know - this is Efron," said one artist who knew them all in Koktebel.
Maybe it all started with a Koktebel pebble? A lot of semi-precious stones lurked on the Koktebel beaches, dug up, collected, proud of each other with their finds. Be that as it may, in reality, Tsvetaeva connected her meeting with Seryozha with a Koktebel pebble.
"1911. I'm shorn after measles. I'm lying on the shore, digging, Voloshin Max is digging next to me.
Max, I'll only marry someone from across the coast who can guess what my favorite stone is.
Marina! (Max's insinuating voice) - lovers, as you may already know, become stupid. And when the one you love brings you (in the sweetest voice) ... a cobblestone, you will sincerely believe that this is your favorite stone!
... With a pebble - it came true, because S.Ya. Efron ... almost on the first day of our acquaintance opened and handed it to me - the greatest rarity! - ... a carnelian bead, which is with me to this day. "
Marina and Serezha found each other instantly and forever. Their meeting was what Tsvetaeva's soul longed for: heroism, romance, sacrifice, high feelings. And - Seryozha himself: so beautiful, young, pure, so drawn to her as to the only thing that can bind him to life.
At the beginning of the journey, Marina was eager to fashion her hero in the image created by her imagination. She projects on Seryozha a glimpse of the glory of the young generals - the heroes of 1812, the ancient chivalry; she is not just convinced of his high destiny - she is demanding. It seems that her early poems, addressed to Seryozha, are imperious, Tsvetaeva seeks, as it were, to curse fate: so be it!
I defiantly wear his ring
Yes, in Eternity - a wife, not on paper. -
His overly narrow face
Like a sword...
Tsvetaeva begins a poem in which she draws romantic portrait Serezha and thinks about the future. Each stanza of it is a step leading up to a pedestal - or a scaffold? - last lines:
In his face, I am faithful to chivalry.
To all of you who lived and died without fear! -
Such - in fateful times -
They compose stanzas - and go to the chopping block.
(To Sergei Efron, 1920)
She still could not imagine that the "fatal times" were just around the corner. There is no doubt that I felt like an older, adult next to this young man. Having fallen in love with Seryozha, recently a teenager herself, Marina took upon herself his pain and responsibility for his fate. She took him by the hand and led him through life. But if she herself was out of politics, then Efron went to fight on the side of the White Army, although logically family tradition It was more natural for Sergei Efron to be in the ranks of the Reds. But here the mixed origin of Efron intervened in the turn of Fate. After all, he was not only half Jewish - he was Orthodox. How did Tsvetaeva slip the word "tragically"?
Tragically merged in his face
Two ancient blood...
(To Sergei Efron, 1920)
Why - tragically? Did he himself feel the duality of his position as a half-breed and suffer from it? And didn't it make the word "Russia", "my Russia" sound more painful?
The tragedy of the situation lies in the fact that the choice he made was not final. He was thrown from side to side: the White Army, the departure from volunteerism, the feeling of his "guilt" before the new Russia ... In the meantime, in the summer of 1911, the future was painted as a happy fairy tale. With Tsvetaeva there was a huge life change: a man appeared - a loved one! who needed her. Therefore, the poem ends with a stanza that sounds almost like a formula:
In his face, I am faithful to chivalry.
Like any poet, the theme of love could not bypass the work of Tsvetaeva. Love for her is the best strong feeling on the ground. Her heroine is not afraid to boldly speak about her feelings, she is not afraid of the shame associated with a declaration of love. Marina Tsvetaeva dedicated a few lines to her husband, Sergei Efron. The height to which Tsvetaeva raised in her husband's poems could only be sustained by an impeccable person. To no one else real person she did not treat with such exactingness - except perhaps to herself, she did not raise anyone so high. From seduction to disappointment - such is the "love cross" of Tsvetaeva's heroine.
To understand the work of Marina Tsvetaeva, you must first look at her as a person for whom to live meant to love. Her poems about love were not composed, but their soul gave birth. Marina Ivanovna brought into poetry the strongest motif of the undivided, offended, lost love, which is accompanied by separation, disappointment, longing. If the young Tsvetaeva sang it with happy unrestraint, then in her later work it takes on a tragic coloring: distinguishing feature love of the poetess - the original doom to separation. Tsvetaeva love is always a conflict leading to a break. Many people inspired her to work - men and women, she was "crazy" by them. Meetings could be "in-person" and "in absentia", but they all left a mark on her work.
The heroine of Tsvetaeva's love poems has many faces - this is the submissive "beautiful, autocratic, not powerful in herself, voluptuous" Manon Lescaut, the seductress Carmen, whom the poetess makes a couple for Don Giovanni, the impudent gypsy Mariula, the warlike Amazon, the fortuneteller. Love for them is a lightning-fast feeling, an impulse, a separation from the earth.
In the poem “Spoiled you in a glass” (1918), the author comes to us in the form of a sorceress who bewitches her beloved: “She spread you in a glass// A handful of burnt hair.// So as not to eat, not to sing,// Not drinking, not slept.// So that youth is not a joy,// So that sugar is not a sweetness,// So that one does not get along in the darkness of the night// With a young wife.
In her cycle of poems "Don Juan" (1917), Tsvetaeva decided to reflect on who this hero-lover is. And why did he enjoy winning women's hearts. The poetess is trying to understand how the relationship between a man and a woman is built, and what exactly is important for each of them. We are all used to thinking that Don Juan simply collected women's hearts, but Tsvetaeva is convinced that if this literary hero and actually existed, he was a deeply unhappy person. After all, all his life he was looking for the only one that could make him happy. Falling in love with women, Don Juan dreamed of a lasting union, but each time he was disappointed. Fantasizing on the theme of relationships with a man of a similar temperament, the poetess presented herself in the role of Don Juan's lover and sadly noted: "There is nowhere to kiss in my homeland." Russia, in her opinion, is devoid of the romance that Europe has, so such a womanizer as the hero of her poems would have had a very hard time in this northern country. Plus, Russian young ladies are very pragmatic, and it is not so easy to win their hearts with languid serenades and dates under the moon. According to the author, the unfortunate Don Juan would simply have died in snowy and inhospitable Russia from longing and the inability to make women fall in love with him. However, the poetess herself is ready to succumb to the spell of this amazing person. She notes that her heart has already been conquered, although this is contrary to common sense, because for Don Juan everything that happens is just exciting game: "You came to me. Your list is full, Don Juan! There is a lot of irony and slight sadness in her words, because the poetess understands her imaginary lover like no one else. She knows that he is lonely at heart and suffers from the fact that he does not know how to love for real. It is for this reason that Tsvetaeva openly declares: "Don Juan did not have Donna Anna!" The one who could become the one and only for him, make this cynic and seducer suffer, for whom women's feelings mean nothing, and the tears of numerous lovers cause a self-satisfied victorious smile.
The poem "I like that you are not sick of me ..." (1915) is dedicated to the husband of Marina Tsvetaeva's sister Mavriky Alexandrovich Mints. It is strange to hear from a young woman, only three years of marriage, a confession of "dislike" to another man. Knowing Marina, who each time fell in love with renewed vigor, selflessly, surrendering to this feeling to the end, you understand why such a poem appeared. But love for her sister, of course, would never allow the poetess to cross a certain line, after which, as they say, the earth leaves from under her feet, which in a poetic arrangement sounded like this: “That the heavy globe of the earth will never / / Will not float away under our feet” . The heroine of the poem, of course, gives the impression of a woman already quite experienced in love affairs. After all, she lists many signs of how a love date is going on: meetings at "sunset hours", "walking under the moonlight", "the sun overhead." Most likely, she has repeatedly experienced a strong attraction to a man, which then gave way to disappointment, and now love for her is akin to a disease. Therefore, with some relief, she even begins her monologue-appeal: “I like that you are not sick with me,// I like that I am not sick with you.” The lyrical heroine says that they are in an equal situation, which means that no one will suffer, because, as you know, one always loves, and the other just allows himself to be loved. Such "equality" is even superficially emphasized by the anaphora at the beginning of the poem. Further, the heroine talks rather detachedly about what advantages “dislike” gives: “I like that you can be funny - // Dissolute - and not play with words, / / And not blush with a suffocating wave, / / Lightly touching your sleeves. / / To me I also like that you are with me / / Calmly hug another, / / Do not read to me in hellfire / / Burn because I do not kiss you. But suddenly she seems to blurt out: "My gentle." And one might get the impression that the heroine herself has more than once addressed her imaginary interlocutor in this way. So gradually, without noticing it herself, she begins to talk about the innermost dream of any girl: “That never in church silence / / They will not sing over us: hallelujah!”. After all, it is the wedding ceremony that should forever unite loving hearts before God. The final part of the poem is written in a completely different emotional vein. This is already an expression of deep gratitude to a person who, it turns out, loves the heroine without knowing it himself: “Thank you with my heart and hand / / For the fact that you don’t know me yourself! - // So love: for my peace of the night,// For the rarity of meetings at sunset,// For our non-festivities under the moon,// For the sun is not over our heads. These endless reasons for gratitude are expressed in anaphoric repetitions: it seems that there are too many of them. But the last two lines with the repeated interjection "alas!" and betray the heroine: there sounds an undisguised regret that they did not rush into the pool of feelings with their heads. If, at the beginning of her confession, the heroine addresses the addressee slightly ironically, emphasizing the distance between them with a polite “You” with capital letter, then by the end the work takes on a confessional character. It turns out that the heroine is ready to suffer and suffer, if necessary.
In Tsvetaeva's poems, love is replaced by jealousy. The abandoned heroine speaks bitterly and ironically with her lover, belittling that other woman, the simple one, for whom she was abandoned in the poem “An Attempt at Jealousy” (1924): - A stroke of the oar! - / / By the coastal line / / Soon did the memory depart, ”“ How do you live with a simple / / Woman? Without deities?”, “How do you live with an earthly// Woman, without sixth// Feelings?// Well, behind the head: happy?// No? In a hole without depths -// How is life, dear? Is it harder / / Is it the same as me with the other? The heroine is offended by the betrayal, she wants to selfishly hurt her beloved by the fact that she was not left alone, and emphasize her uniqueness for him, divinity. The reception of the antithesis clearly distinguishes between the image of the abandoned heroine and the image of another woman.
In the poem “Yesterday I looked into the eyes ...” (1920), the cry of the heroine’s soul merges with the “cry of women of all times”: “My dear, what have I done to you.” The sincerity of love is broken against the coldness of the beloved. The lyrical heroine asks, is perplexed, exclaims, and this line sounds either as a question, or as a reproach, or rhetorically, and at the end of the poem it turns into an exclamation-stating. The first phrase is “Yesterday I looked into my eyes, / And now - everything looks askance to the side!” outlines the main theme of the poem, characteristic of Tsvetaeva's work - the relationship between a man and a woman, the disunity of their souls. The rhythm of the poem is agitated. The pulsating refrain conveys tension, anxiety, confusion of the lyrical heroine. Here there is a context of pain from hopelessness and loneliness: “At once both hands were unclenched, // Life fell out - a rusty penny!”. The beating of the heart accelerates: "O cry of women of all times; / I stand as a child-killer in judgment." The heroine speaks more in the past tense, since it is in the past that she real life, there is no future, there is no love, and without love there is no life: “Where Love recedes,// Death the gardener approaches there.” The semantics of the poem is built around the opposition of I-subject and You-object. They are diametrically opposite qualities: I am stupid, you are smart, I am dumbfounded, you are alive. Blood, as a symbol of a full-fledged life, turns into water in an abandoned woman, her tears are also water, since she is not able to influence a man. The lyrical heroine is alone with her misfortune: “And her tears are water, and blood -// Water, - washed in blood, in tears!”. Thus, fairly common language tools and techniques under the talented pen of Marina Tsvetaeva turn into a bright and strong image of a lyrical heroine, from whom her beloved has left, they convey confusion of feelings, pain and resentment.
The life of Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva was composed and adorned by two passions - poetry and love. She lived with them, they were her air, which she reveled in, they, in fact, were her. The work of the poetess is inseparable from the pages of her biography. Her poetry is the poetry of living life human soul, and not invented "sky-highs", not rational constructions. The lyrical heroine of her poems is herself, her loving heart, her restless soul.
Tsvetaeva, in my opinion, is one of the few who trampled on our mortal earth, who understood Love in true sense this word. To love in spite of everything, to love, giving oneself and not demanding anything in return, to love sincerely and beautifully, tenderly, to love with one's strange, crazy, all-consuming love.
I consider her poems about love to be the most subtle, most accurate, sincere, truthful, in which her huge loving soul was naked, crying and experienced. Every word in her poems is an experienced feeling, transferred to paper with trepidation:
Mercilessly from the chest
Gods - let it be dropped!
Love got me
Any: big!
To the chest...
Don't rule!
Without words and in a word -
To love ... Spread out
In the world - a swallow!
In 1940, Tsvetaeva makes an entry in her diary: "I owe all my poems to people whom I loved - who loved me - or did not love me." Tsvetaeva considered the real, acceptable and necessary to her “Unrequited. Hopeless. Without interference from the receiving hand. Like in an abyss" love, as she said in a letter to Pasternak:
Love! Love! And in convulsions and in the coffin
I will be alert - I will be seduced - I will be embarrassed - I will rush.
Oh honey! Not in a coffin snowdrift,
I won’t say goodbye to you in the cloud.
Young Marina longed for love, and she accepted the invitation to her soul, becoming a companion for life. And as a result, in the legacy of Tsvetaeva, we have left a lot of secret evidence, almost every flash of feelings, every heart failure is recorded, highlighted and enlarged a hundred times by the strongest spotlight - poetry.
Passionately and ardently beloved by her husband, the poetess devoted more than a dozen poems filled with a warm, deep feeling:
I wrote on the slate board
And on the leaves of faded fans,
And on the river, and on the sea sand,
Skates on the ice and a ring on the windows, -
And on the trunks, which are hundreds of winters ...
And finally - for you to know! -
What do you love! love! love! -
Signed - a rainbow of heaven.
Love was the meaning of her life, she put an equal sign between "love" and "be". This feeling was everything for her: both inspiration, and passion, and "all the gifts" at once, and tragedy, and art. In The Poem of the End, Tsvetaeva brilliantly and simply stated: “Love means life”, “Love is all gifts / Into the fire and always for nothing!”.
The poems of Marina Tsvetaeva "beat with current", make the soul "turn over", suffer and cry along with her lyrical heroine, becoming purer and better. They teach to love with the most sincere, bottomless and bright love.
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