Worth thinking deeply. But there was a wet trace in the wrinkle the size of the verse

Reading the verse "Cliff" by Lermontov Mikhail Yuryevich is offered to schoolchildren in the 6th grade. After reading it to children in a literature lesson, teachers give them the opportunity to interpret the work in their own way. It's interesting what the guys will see in it. So, some may assume that the cloud is a young windy girl with whom an elderly man is in love, that is, a cliff. Others may put forward some other version of what the poet wanted to say in his work. At home, the verse is asked to be taught completely. Since it is small in volume, this task does not seem too difficult for schoolchildren. Sometimes children are also invited to draw an illustration for the poem. Creative tasks are usually always to the liking of children.

The text of Lermontov's poem "The Cliff" was written in 1941. Published - in 1943 in the journal "Domestic Notes". In the work, Mikhail Yuryevich tells a short story about a golden cloud and a giant cliff. He writes that the former spent the night on the latter, and then flew away from him into the azure. Utes was sorry that his guest had left him so quickly. He felt very alone. At the end of the poem, Mikhail Yuryevich writes that the cliff, thinking deeply about something, is quietly crying in the desert. The cloud in the verse is opposed to the cliff. She is young and cheerful in him, and he is old and gloomy. Although the verse consists of only 2 quatrains, this does not make it worse than the rest. With the help of them, Mikhail Yuryevich was able to clearly convey his worldview. According to many literary critics, in this poem the poet compares himself with a giant cliff. Although Lermontov was then only 26 years old, in his heart he felt very old and lonely.

Interesting and important material on the topic: "but there was a wet mark in the wrinkle" with a full description and accessible language.

A golden cloud spent the night
On the chest of a giant cliff;
She left early in the morning,
Playing merrily across the azure;

But there was a wet mark in the wrinkle
Old cliff. Alone
He stands deep in thought
And he weeps softly in the desert.

Analysis of the poem "Cliff" by Lermontov

Lermontov's poem "The Cliff" presents two images opposed to each other: an old cliff and a cloud, they are also comparable according to the following criteria: youth - old age, carelessness - doom, joy-sadness. If the epithet “old” is used for the cliff, then the “clouds” name speaks for itself, the diminutive suffix “k” creates the image of a young, carefree cloud, moreover, it is very similar to a child. The temporal space of the poem is ambiguous. On the one hand - the action is happening rapidly - the cloud spent the night - sped off - the cliff was left alone. If you look more broadly, then the time is quite long. So, the cloud “spent the night on the chest of the giant cliff”, it turns out that the giant cliff is not just a place of residence, but a reliable breadwinner who raised his ward, who gave her his care and attention. But youth is fleeting. Old age comes unnoticed. Thanks to the assonance of the sound “o”, we hear the howling and crying of a lonely hermit ... (lonely, he, deep, quietly). Running away, the cloud leaves a “wet mark in the wrinkle”, like life-giving moisture to facilitate the life of a faithful, wise friend. Unfortunately, this moisture will quickly evaporate, leaving no trace of memories of youth, joy, and only tears will remain - "and he is crying softly in the desert."

In the first stanza, word order predominates, which also helps us to visually follow the cloud imperceptibly. Note how the structural organization of lines in the second stanza changes. The author uses inversion, especially highlighting the words “lonely”, “thinking”, “quietly”. And we ourselves, together with the cliffs, look with a farewell glance after the fleeing cloud of youth. Crying is quiet, because he does not want to seem weak, helpless, direct. The author's sympathy for the "experiences" of the cliff is obvious, it is not by chance that the poem is called "cliff", and not "cloud". And if the image of a cloud is represented by a colorful palette (gold, azure), then we will not find a single more or less bright color when describing a cliff. Something else is more important here - the author avoids everything feigned, superficial, and focuses on deep inner experiences.

Silhouette

I have your silhouette
I love its sad color;
It hangs on my chest
And he is gloomy, like a heart in her.

There is no life and fire in the eyes,
But he is always near me;
He is your shadow, but I love
Like a shadow of bliss, your shadow.

"No, it's not you that I love so passionately"

No, I don't love you so passionately,
Not for me the beauty of your brilliance:
I love you past suffering
And my lost youth.

Sometimes when I look at you
Looking into your eyes for a long time:
Mysterious I'm busy talking
But I'm not talking to you with my heart.

I'm talking to a friend of my youthful days;
In your features I look for other features;
In the mouth of the living, the mouth has long been mute,
In the eyes of the fire of extinguished eyes.

Here you can add longer, but easy-to-remember works by Lermontov:

And boring and sad

And boring and sad, and there is no one to give a hand
In a moment of heartbreak...
Desires!.. what good is it in vain and eternally to desire?..
And the years pass - all the best years!

To love ... but whom? .. for a while - it's not worth the trouble,
And it is impossible to love forever.
Do you look into yourself? - there is no trace of the past:
And joy, and torment, and everything there is insignificant ...

What are passions? - after all, sooner or later their sweet affliction
Will disappear at the word of reason;
And life, as you look around with cold attention -
Such an empty and stupid joke...

"When the yellowing field worries"

When the yellowing field worries,
And the fresh forest rustles at the sound of the breeze,
And the crimson plum hides in the garden
Under the shade of a sweet green leaf;

When sprayed with fragrant dew,
Ruddy evening or morning at a golden hour,
From under the bush I silver lily of the valley
He nods his head amiably;

A golden cloud spent the night
On the chest of a giant cliff,

Playing merrily across the azure;

Old cliff. Alone
He stands deep in thought

Analysis of the poem by M.Yu. Lermontov "Cliff" for schoolchildren

The work of the great Russian poet belongs to the late period of creativity. The leitmotif of the poem "Cliff" is the idea of ​​the loneliness of love. Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov talks about what love is like.

In this poem, two main characters appear before the reader: a golden cloud and a giant cliff. The poet offers his own philosophical vision, in which the relationship between people is transferred to the events of nature, and through the prism of natural phenomena, we study the thoughts and feelings of people.

The heroes of the work are two opposite images. The golden cloud is a light, flying, very delicate beauty. It reveals a playful mood, easy love and openness to this world. A free playful cloud attracts a giant cliff. It is large and heavy, standing alone in the middle of the desert. Perhaps he alone can become a friend for a cloud that wanders over the silent desert. And between them there is a connection, as between kindred souls. The author writes about the relationship between a cloud and a cliff:

A golden cloud spent the night
On the chest of a giant cliff...

For her, the cliff became a night haven that could shelter her on his chest. For him, the cloud became a fleeting entertainment, which he dreamed about in the middle of the desert.

The desert became the place where two living creatures met, filled with feelings and capable of love. Their feelings connected for a brief moment. It was as if a spark ran through, generating warmth in the chest of the old cliff. But a few other experiences in a light, unconstrained cloud. Her thoughts are lighter, her feelings are not so deep. And in the morning she goes on the road without regret, not worrying about the feelings of the cliff. The author sees it this way:

She left early in the morning,
Playing merrily across the azure;
But there was a wet mark in the wrinkle
Old cliff.

Here we read about how different are the feelings of two creatures in love. Let them meet and be filled with mutual sympathy, but this is temporary. It is about the short-term happiness of love that a lonely cliff cries:

Alone
He stands deep in thought
And he weeps softly in the desert.

The poem evokes sympathy for the poor cliff. Perhaps these are autobiographical reflections, and the relationship between the cloud and the cliff reveals events from the life of Mikhail Yuryevich.

This poem teaches us to feel each other more deeply, to take care of loved ones. This is a very instructive example of how the author manages to convey his experiences using the technique of allegory and transferring relationships between people to natural phenomena.

Respect and recognition of the work of Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov, the study of the features of his poetry form the right relationship and educate the personality.

We suggest that you read the following information: "but there was a wet mark in the wrinkle of the old cliff" and discuss the article in the comments.

A golden cloud spent the night
On the chest of a giant cliff;
Playing merrily across the azure;

But there was a wet mark in the wrinkle
Old cliff. Alone
He stands deep in thought

Analysis of the poem "Cliff" by Lermontov

Lermontov's poem "The Cliff" presents two images opposed to each other: an old cliff and a cloud, they are also comparable according to the following criteria: youth - old age, carelessness - doom, joy-sadness. If the epithet “old” is used for the cliff, then the “clouds” name speaks for itself, the diminutive suffix “k” creates the image of a young, carefree cloud, moreover, it is very similar to a child. The temporal space of the poem is ambiguous. On the one hand - the action is happening rapidly - the cloud spent the night - sped off - the cliff was left alone. If you look more broadly, then the time is quite long. So, the cloud “spent the night on the chest of the giant cliff”, it turns out that the giant cliff is not just a place of residence, but a reliable breadwinner who raised his ward, who gave her his care and attention. But youth is fleeting. Old age comes unnoticed. Thanks to the assonance of the sound “o”, we hear the howling and crying of a lonely hermit ... (lonely, he, deep, quietly). Running away, the cloud leaves a “wet mark in the wrinkle”, like life-giving moisture to facilitate the life of a faithful, wise friend. Unfortunately, this moisture will quickly evaporate, leaving no trace of memories of youth, joy, and only tears will remain - "and he is crying softly in the desert."

In the first stanza, word order predominates, which also helps us to visually follow the cloud imperceptibly. Note how the structural organization of lines in the second stanza changes. The author uses inversion, especially highlighting the words “lonely”, “thinking”, “quietly”. And we ourselves, together with the cliffs, look with a farewell glance after the fleeing cloud of youth. Crying is quiet, because he does not want to seem weak, helpless, direct. The author's sympathy for the "experiences" of the cliff is obvious, it is not by chance that the poem is called "cliff", and not "cloud". And if the image of a cloud is represented by a colorful palette (gold, azure), then we will not find a single more or less bright color when describing a cliff. Something else is more important here - the author avoids everything feigned, superficial, and focuses on deep inner experiences.

Kolka still sat on the rails.

And when it began to get light, quickly, as if a light had been turned on somewhere and yellow glare crawled along the grayish-blue steel stripes, Kolka circled the station and climbed the hill to the white rotunda.

He sat down on the steps and looked down. I watched and watched and cried. I cried for the first time since I saw Sasha on the fence. He was weeping, and his tears blotted out the beautiful view of the mountains and the valley that opened up along with the rising sun.

And then he got tired of crying and fell asleep.

He dreamed: the mountains, like walls, stand, and the gorges fall down. They go with Sasha, he came to the very edge, but he doesn’t see, he doesn’t see ... And already quietly begins to slide down the ice, roll, and Kolya catches him by the coat, by the sleeve ... He can’t grab him! Sashka rolled down steeply, further and further, Kolka's heart ached that he had missed his brother and now he would break his arms and legs and smash himself to smithereens. Far, far away, a black lump is rolling ... Kolya woke up from fear.

He felt his face: wet with tears. So he was crying again.

Looked down at the valley, suddenly remembered poetry. He had never remembered these verses before, and he did not know that he remembered them.

A golden cloud spent the night

On the chest of a giant cliff,

She left early in the morning,

Playing merrily across the azure,

But there was a damp trace in the wrinkle of the Old Cliff.

He stands alone, deep in thought,

And he weeps softly in the desert.

Maybe this hill is a cliff, and the rotunda is a cloud .. Kolka looked around and sighed. Or maybe the cloud is the train that Sasha took with him. Or not. The cliff now is Kolka, and that is why he is crying because he has become stone, old, old, like the whole of this Caucasus. And Sasha turned into a cloud ... Hu from hu? We are clouds ... We are a wet trail ... We were and are not.

Kolka felt that he wanted to cry again, and stood up. I found an inscription that they made here on September 10th. He looked for a sharp cream, added at the bottom: “Sashka left. Kolka remained. The 20th of October".

He threw a pebble, watched it roll down the mountainside, and followed it down.

Then he washed his face in one of the hot water holes and went up the road to where their farm was. He did not yet know what he would say to the teacher Regina Petrovna.

He approached the farm, turned the last hill, but did not figure out whether he would lie or tell the truth. He did not want to scare her and the peasants. Here they are not dangerous. Graze the cattle and bake the top. Only he won't live here. He will say: "Sasha left, and I have to go." Of course, he will give them all the jam from the stash, he will only take a jar for his journey. And take thirty. This is their fortune with Sasha, not without reason in Tomilin they formed in a crust in order to get their own personal thirty. Now Sasha doesn't need money. He travels freely...

He is now forever a free passenger. Kolya approached the shed, but saw no one. Probably sleep, I decided. He knocked on the window and looked into the house. And there's no one here. The bunk is made neatly, like everything at Regina Petrovna's, and things are in their places, but the hostess is gone.

Kolka thought that they had gone to milk the cows. He returned under the shed, rummaged through the dishes, found the hominy in the bowler hat, and put it straight into his mouth with his hand. It was only now that he thought that he was terribly hungry. He took out handful after handful and swallowed it all in an instant. But he didn't eat. He scraped the bowler clean, then found the cottage cheese and also ate it. Regina Petrovna will return, scold, but forgive. He didn't do it on purpose, out of hunger.

He drank some water, lay down on the reeds, on his bed and Sasha's bed. And suddenly fell asleep.

I woke up in the evening from silence. He was alone, only the birds were chirping on the roof. He reached the key, got drunk and rinsed his face.

For some reason, this silence and loneliness made me feel uncomfortable. He went down to the garden and further to the meadow where the flock was grazing. Until recently, they all stood here and called bulls and heifers by different names. And the goats ate a cigarette with fire, as much as smoke from the nostrils. Now the whole herd turned to him, and the goats bleated, recognized him, and the bull that was the Jackal ran towards Kolka ... And the strangest thing is that the evil cow Mashka, who at the sight of Kolka horned her, suddenly also bellowed to him invitingly and in a completely kind way : “Moo-mu-u-uu I finally recognized it. Yes, what's the point. Now, if she answered where Regina Petrovna disappeared with the peasants. And suddenly I remembered: there is no donkey with a cart!

Well, of course, she followed them to the colony! Sasha, he would instantly realize! She probably went to the station, didn’t find them, and rushed off to the colony! And he, the net, is sleeping here!

How Kolka did not want to return through the village to the colony! But he imagined the broken, abandoned houses, and among them the confused, frightened Regina Petrovna, who was looking for them with Sasha! It was because of them that she went to this lost place, where Chechens still roam on horseback, and he, Kolka, still hesitates, still suffers - should he go or not go!

Who will save her now, if not Kolka!

He glanced back one last time, trying to get his eye on something. It was very difficult for him to overcome his unwillingness, despite his own persuasion. And something was holding him back, he couldn't figure out what it was.

And only when he got out and walked for half an hour along the warm road heated during the day, he remembered: he wanted to see if their beautiful clothes were intact? Yellow shoes, and a shirt with pants, and a motley "tyutubeyka" ... Or did they stop it? Now, while they and Regina Petrovna are looking for each other, they will surely be stubborn!

In thick twilight he passed the station. The echelon with the military was gone. But there were many tracks on the road, and the corn on the roadside was dented and broken.

And then - the smell of burning. Kolka did not understand what was the matter, here is Sasha, he would have guessed in an instant. Sashka would only move his brain and give out: “You know, they burn the crop! The Chechens are surviving out of the thicket!” So ​​Kolka thought, and only then realized that it was he, he himself, and not Sasha thought.

Gary was getting bigger, the smoke was already creeping over the road like a snowdrift. Kolya's eyes watered and hurt. He rubbed his eyes, and when it was unbearable, lay face down in the grass, he felt better.

There were burnt patches. On the sides, and especially in front, the sky played with flashes of red, and even here, on the road, it was brighter from these flashes.

And then Kolka reached the fire. The remnants of grass smoldered, and the trunks of sunflowers smoked - red-hot sticks. Here it was so hot that Kolya covered his face with a shirt so that his eyebrows would not burn. And the eyelashes became sticky, they, probably, also scorched.

Then he lay down on the ground and began to think: should he go to the colony or not? If you go, then it can burn. And if you don’t go, it will turn out as if he left Regina Petrovna with the peasants alone in the midst of this fire and danger.

He lay down, caught his breath, it became easier. I decided that I should go to Regina Petrovna. He cannot go. Sasha would go.

The fire now gleamed from all sides, and Kolya was sick from the smoke. He somehow got used to the ashes, almost got used to the burning, only it was strange that there was a lot of fire around, but there were still no people.

It was he who, when riding with Sasha, did not want people to come across. And now he just as badly wanted to get them.

At least once.

At least someone.

Now, if it happened: he is walking, and Regina Petrovna is riding towards him along the road on a donkey! The peasants are frightened in the cart, and she herself looks around, afraid of the fire. And Kolka shouts to her: “Khu from hu? Do not be afraid! I'm here! I'm with you! Together we are not afraid! I already know how to walk through fire! Now, now, I'll take you and the peasants to the back room, and there is already paradise, so paradise! Live for a hundred years, and no fires, and no Chechens! ”Kolka came to his senses, he was lying in the middle of the road, burned out, apparently. He doesn't remember how he fell. Head ache, nausea rises to the throat. Tried to get up, didn't get up. And the legs don't work. He looked ahead: Lord, the roofs of the houses are sticking out. Berezovskaya! Here she is! Give a hand! On all fours, yes I will crawl ...

And then there are gardens, trees, bushes, the fire does not break through them. How he got to the well, Kolka again did not remember. I lowered the chain for a long time, but I didn’t have enough strength to raise it. Twice up to the middle of the bucket he chose, and it escaped from his hands, fell back.

He leaned over the edge of Kolka, began to breathe from the well. The air is damp, cold, if only not to fall. He tied a chain around his leg and lay on the bend for a long time, his head there, and his legs out.

Feel better. Only a slight nausea remained.

He wandered on. Past the field, past the cemetery, then it suddenly seemed to him that these were not granite columns at all, but Chechens were standing in rows ... The motionless crowd froze at the sight of Kolka, escorting him with their eyes ... Some kind of obsession! Or he went crazy. He closed his eyes, ran his hand across his face, looked again: the pillars were made of stone, and no Chechens. But just in case, he accelerated his steps and did not take his eyes off, so that, God forbid, they would not turn into Chechens again! In the direction of the colony, the fire did not penetrate, here you don’t need to cover your head with a shirt, or you don’t need to cling to the grass. But he was black, Kolka, even though he could not see himself. If someone got caught, they would probably decide that the devil himself jumped out onto the road from the underworld. But what Kolka went through was the underworld.

He did not remember how he got to Sunzha. He clung to her, a yellowish, flat river, lay, raising and lowering his head into the water.

For a long, long time, he lay like that until it began to clear up around him. And then he was surprised: morning. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. The water is noisy. From hell straight to heaven. Only he needs to go to the colony as soon as possible, there Regina Petrovna is waiting for him. As long as the fire has not reached here, it needs to be rescued as soon as possible. And he gave himself a pleasant bath!

Kolka sighed, went, did not wring out his clothes. It just dries up. But he didn’t go through the gates to the colony, but climbed into his own hole, more familiar, and safer.

Nothing has changed since I walked here with Sasha. Only in the middle of the courtyard did he see a broken military wagon lying on its side, next to a mound. In the mound there is a plaque and an inscription in chemical ink:

Petr Anisimovich Meshkov. 10/17/44

Kolka buried himself in plywood. I read it through the letters twice until I realized: why, this is the director! It's his grave! If they had written a "briefcase", it would have come sooner. Here is how it turned out. Killed, that is. And they can kill Regina Petrovna ...

He stood in the middle of the yard and shouted as loudly as he could, “Re-gi-na Peter-ro-v-na!” Only an echo answered him.

He ran through all the floors, through all the rooms, stumbling over scattered things and not noticing them. He ran and repeated in despair: “Regina Petrovna… Regina Petrovna… Regi…” He suddenly stopped. He got up as if rooted to the spot. I understand that she is not here.

She wasn't here at all.

It became sad. It got lonely. As in a trap into which he himself climbed. He rushed out of the courtyard, but returned, thinking that he would not be able to go through the fire again. Strength is not enough. Maybe with her, with Regina Petrovna, but with the peasants, he would go ... For their sake, he went to save them. And he has no strength for himself.

He lay down in a corner, in the house, on the floor, without spreading anything under him, although there was a mattress lying next to him and a pillow also lying around. Curled up into a ball and fell into oblivion.

From time to time he came to his senses, and then he called Sasha and called Regina Petrovna ... He had no one else in his life to call.

It seemed to him that they were nearby, but did not hear, he screamed in despair, and then got up on all fours and whined like a puppy.

It seemed to him that he was sleeping, sleeping for a long time and could not wake up. Only one night, not understanding where he was, he heard that someone was breathing rapidly and heavily.

Sasha! I knew you would come! I was waiting for you! Waited! he said and wept.

A golden cloud spent the night
On the chest of a giant cliff;
She left early in the morning,
Playing merrily across the azure;

But there was a wet mark in the wrinkle
Old cliff. Alone
He stands deep in thought
And he weeps softly in the desert.

Analysis of the poem "Cliff" by Lermontov

Lermontov's poem "The Cliff" presents two images opposed to each other: an old cliff and a cloud, they are also comparable according to the following criteria: youth - old age, carelessness - doom, joy-sadness. If the epithet “old” is used for the cliff, then the “clouds” name speaks for itself, the diminutive suffix “k” creates the image of a young, carefree cloud, moreover, it is very similar to a child. The temporal space of the poem is ambiguous. On the one hand - the action is happening rapidly - the cloud spent the night - sped off - the cliff was left alone. If you look more broadly, then the time is quite long. So, the cloud “spent the night on the chest of the giant cliff”, it turns out that the giant cliff is not just a place of residence, but a reliable breadwinner who raised his ward, who gave her his care and attention. But youth is fleeting. Old age comes unnoticed. Thanks to the assonance of the sound “o”, we hear the howling and crying of a lonely hermit ... (lonely, he, deep, quietly). Running away, the cloud leaves a “wet mark in the wrinkle”, like life-giving moisture to facilitate the life of a faithful, wise friend. Unfortunately, this moisture will quickly evaporate, leaving no trace of memories of youth, joy, and only tears will remain - "and he weeps softly in the desert."

In the first stanza, word order predominates, which also helps us to visually follow the cloud imperceptibly. Note how the structural organization of lines in the second stanza changes. The author uses inversion, especially highlighting the words “lonely”, “thinking”, “quietly”. And we ourselves, together with the cliffs, look with a farewell glance after the fleeing cloud of youth. Crying is quiet, because he does not want to seem weak, helpless, direct. The author's sympathy for the "experiences" of the cliff is obvious, it is not by chance that the poem is called "cliff", and not "cloud". And if the image of a cloud is represented by a colorful palette (gold, azure), then we will not find a single more or less bright color when describing a cliff. Something else is more important here - the author avoids everything feigned, superficial, and focuses on deep inner experiences.