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Creativity Lermontov, which combines civil, philosophical and personal motives, meets the urgent needs of the spiritual life of Russian society, marked a new flowering of Russian literature. It had a great impact on the most prominent Russian writers and poets of the XIX and XX centuries. Works Lermontov received great response in painting, theater, cinema. His poems have become a true treasure trove for opera, symphony and romance of creativity, many of them have become folk songs.





One of the poems:

Borodino
 - Tell me, uncle, for good reason
 - Moscow burnt by fire,
Frenchman given?
After all, were fighting the fight Well,
Yes, they say any more!
No wonder remembers all Russia
About Borodin day!
 - Yes, there were people in our time,
 - Not that the current tribe:
Heroes - not you!
Bad they got share:
Few have returned from the field ...
Do not be a God willing,
Not given b Moscow!
We long silence retreat. It was annoying, waiting for the battle,
Grumbled the old man, "What are we?

winter quarters?
Dare not, whether that commanders
Aliens tear uniforms
About Russian bayonets? »
And found a large field:
There roam where the wild!
Built a redoubt.
Our ears open!
A little morning lit cannon
And the forests of blue tops - French right there.
I scored the charge in the gun tight
And I thought: I'll buy another!
Wait a minute, brother musyu!
What is there to cheat, perhaps for a fight;

Oh, we'll go to ache wall,
Oh, we'll stand head
For your home!
For two days we were in a shootout.
What good is a sort of Gaud?
We waited for the third day.
Everywhere were heard speech:
"It's time to get to the canister!»
And here on the formidable sechi
Night had fallen shadow.
I lay down to take a nap at laft,
And was heard before dawn,
As jubilant Frenchman.
But quiet was our bivouac outdoor:
Who Shako clean every hackneyed,
Who bayonet sharpening, muttering angrily,
Biting his long mustache.
And the sky lit up,
All of a sudden noisy stir,
Flashed for systems operation.
The Colonel was born our grip:
Servant of the king, the father of the soldiers ...
Yes, sorry for him: smitten Bulat,
He sleeps in the ground soggy.
And 'he said, flashing a sight:

"Guys! Moscow not only weapon for us?
Well Umremte near Moscow,
As our brothers die! »
And we promised to die,
And kept the oath of allegiance
We are in the Battle of Borodino.
Well Well was a day!
Through the smoke volatile

The French moved like clouds,
And all of our redoubt.
Lancers with colorful icons,

Dragoons with horse --hvostami,
Everything flashed before us,
All have visited here.
You will not see these battles! ..
Banners floated like shadows,
In the smoke of the fire gleamed,
Sounded Bulat, buckshot screaming,
Hand chopping fighters tired,
And the nuclei fly prevented
Mountain bloody bodies.
Acquainted with the enemy in the day a lot,
What does Russian battle remove,
Our dogfight! ..
The earth shook - as our breasts;
Together in a bunch of horses, people,

And thousands of volleys of guns
Merged into a prolonged howl ...
Here dusk.
Were all ready
Zautra fight new venture
And before the end of stand ...
That cracked drums - and retreated busurmany.
Then we began to count the wounds,
Comrades considered.
Yes, there were people in our time,
Powerful, spirited tribe:
Heroes - not you.
Bad they got share:
Few have returned from the field.
When used on is not God's will,
Not given b Moscow!