The poem "My voice is weak" was written in the spring of 1913. It is included in the collection "The White Flock" (1917), which brought (along with other collections: "Evening", "Rosary", "Plantain", "Anno Domini") A. A. Akhmatova wide literary recognition.
This poem, like many others, is about love. Love in Akhmatova almost never appears in a calm stay. The feeling, in itself sharp and extraordinary, acquires additional sharpness and unusualness, manifesting itself in the ultimate crisis expression - a rise or fall, the first awakening meeting or a completed break, mortal danger or mortal anguish.
This poem reveals the state of mind of the heroine after the end of the love drama. With each line, the feeling of love in the heroine fades away, cools down: at first her voice is weak, she felt better without love, and only at the end we feel that "liberation is near." We see how painful love was: the heroine was tormented by “insomnia-nurse”, she languished “over gray ash”, and even the arrow of the tower clock seemed to her a deadly arrow; and what happiness he experiences at the end of a love drama:
On damp spring ivy.
To reveal the state of mind of the heroine, A. Akhmatova uses various means of expression. For example, the alliteration of the sound [l], [n] and the assonance of the sound [e] conveys to us the lightness, calmness that the heroine experiences. The epithets "gray ash", "crooked arrow", "death arrow"; the metaphor of "insomnia-nurse" reinforce the tragedy of outgoing love.
Accuracy of psychological observations, plot dynamics, skillful use of everyday details, aphorism, laconicism are the defining features of Akhmatova's poetry, which are clearly identified in the poems of 1914-1921, including in "My voice is weak."
A. Akhmatova's poems about love are almost always permeated with a feeling of sadness, but the main thing that makes them so heartfelt is sympathy, compassion, empathy in love.
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Analysis of Anna Akhmatova's poem "My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ..." - the best essay
I adore the poetry of the wonderful Anna Akhmatova and with some special trepidation I read her “My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ... -”. The poem is clearly lyrical in nature, written in the spring of 1913. It is difficult for me to say with whose image the experiences are connected, which the talented woman conveyed so strongly in her short work. What a bitter loss she experienced, what heavy feelings she had in her soul, only the poetess herself knew.
And she, being left without her painful love, loses a dear person, but at the same time throws off the shackles of hopelessness, forgiving a young man or a gray-haired sage unknown to me, a woman lightens her soul, opens it to a new, bright, true love, without "gray ash" , without empty expectations, without the bitterness of disappointment ... -
But the first lines of the poem are already contradictory: “My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ... -” It turns out that, letting go of love, she weakens physically, which means she is not ready to completely give up her feelings, so all her words are just self-persuasion? And arguing that her will is not weakening, she only hopes that "liberation is near", but in fact it has not yet come.
- Analysis of Akhmatova's poem “I had a voice. He called consolingly ... "
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Analysis of Anna Akhmatova's poem "My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ..."
I adore the poetry of the wonderful Anna Akhmatova and with some special trepidation I read her “My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ...”. The poem is clearly lyrical in nature, written in the spring of 1913. It is difficult for me to say with whose image the experiences are connected, which the talented woman conveyed so strongly in her short work. What a bitter loss she experienced, what heavy feelings she had in her soul, only the poetess herself knew.
And so clearly, so precisely to express his hopeless melancholy, his despair, his loneliness could a deeply worried person with remarkable talent. This, in my opinion, was Akhmatova, and this is exactly how she remains for me today.
A woman breaks up with a man who was very important to her on this life path. But, letting him go, she proudly says that she herself gains freedom. Apparently, their relationship was not so simple, the feelings of the man were not so sincere, he did not belong to the heroine so unconditionally.
And she, being left without her painful love, loses a dear person, but at the same time throws off the shackles of hopelessness, forgiving a young man or a gray-haired sage unknown to me, a woman lightens her soul, opens it to a new, bright, true love, without "gray ash" , without empty expectations, without the bitterness of disappointment ...
But the first lines of the poem are already contradictory: “My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ...” It turns out that, letting go of love, she weakens physically, which means that she is not ready to completely give up her feelings, so all her words are just self-persuasion? And arguing that her will is not weakening, she only hopes that "liberation is near", but in fact it has not yet come.
Deep feelings, tragedy, and special sadness are inherent in almost all poems of the poetess about love, therefore you sympathize with the heroine, sympathize, empathize, passing through yourself everything that the greatest poetess and a simple woman writes about, who is not alien to human passions and experiences.
Returning again and again to Akhmatova's love lyrics, I never cease to be amazed at the strength and wisdom of this beautiful woman who is able to love and forgive so much.
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Analysis of Akhmatova's poem "My voice is weak"
Analysis of the poem "My voice is weak ..." by A. Akhmatova.
My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken,
And my thoughts are innocent.
I do not languish over gray ash,
How the past loses power over the heart!
Liberation is near. I'll forgive everything
Watching the beam run up and down
On damp spring ivy.
On wet spring ivy.
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Abstract: Analysis of Akhmatova's poem "My voice is weak"
I even feel better without love.
The sky is high, the mountain wind is blowing,
And my thoughts are innocent.
The insomnia-nurse went to others,
I do not languish over gray ash,
And the clock tower crooked arrow
It doesn't seem like a deadly arrow to me.
How the past loses power over the heart!
Liberation is near. I'll forgive everything
Watching the beam run up and down
On damp spring ivy.
The poem "My weak voice" was written in the spring of 1913. It is included in the collection "The White Flock" (1917), which brought (along with other collections: "Evening", "Rosary", "Plantain", "AnnoDomini") A. A. Akhmatova wide literary recognition.
This poem, like many others, is about love. Love in Akhmatova almost never appears in a calm stay. The feeling, in itself sharp and extraordinary, acquires additional sharpness and unusualness, manifesting itself in the ultimate crisis expression - a rise or fall, the first awakening meeting or a completed break, mortal danger or mortal anguish.
This poem reveals the state of mind of the heroine after the end of the love drama. With each line, the feeling of love in the heroine fades away, cools down: at first her voice is weak, she felt better without love, and only at the end we feel that "liberation is near." We see how painful love was: the heroine was tormented by “insomnia-nurse”, she languished “over gray ash”, and even the arrow of the tower clock seemed to her a deadly arrow; and what happiness he experiences at the end of a love drama:
How the past loses its power over the heart!
Liberation is near. I will forgive everything,
Watching the beam run and run
On wet spring ivy.
To reveal the state of mind of the heroine, A. Akhmatova uses various means of expression. For example, the alliteration of the sound [l], [n] and the assonance of the sound [e] conveys to us the lightness, calmness that the heroine experiences. The epithets "gray ash", "crooked arrow", "death arrow"; metaphor "insomnia-nurse" reinforce the tragedy of outgoing love.
Accuracy of psychological observations, plot dynamics, skillful use of everyday details, aphorism, laconicism are the defining features of Akhmatova's poetry, which are clearly identified in the poems of 1914-1921, including in "My Weak Voice".
A. Akhmatova's poems about love are almost always permeated with a feeling of sadness, but the main thing that makes them so heartfelt is sympathy, compassion, empathy in love.
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Akhmatova's lyrics are one of the brightest phenomena in Russian literature of the 20th century. In its depth and philosophical richness, it rightfully ranks with the names of A. Pushkin, M. Lermontov, F. Tyutchev, A. Fet. Rooted in the 19th century and being a successor to the best traditions of the Russian poetic school, Akhmatova created her own, unlike anything else, lyrical world.
Already from the first collections, Akhmatova's poetry is distinguished by such features as the clarity of the meanings of all the words used in the works, the simplicity of vision, the fullness of the works with ordinary things. It is characterized by colloquialism of poetic speech, laconism
style, adopted from Pushkin, to which Akhmatova turned from the very first steps of her work.
The poem "My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken ..." is one of the most striking examples of Akhmatova's philosophical lyrics. The poem, in its idea, has much in common with the poem “I learned to live simply, wisely ...” and other works of the poetess, in which the influence of Pushkin's aesthetics and his humanistic worldview is felt. Akhmatova's sense of the world is as humanistic and close to nature as that of the great Russian poet. The naturalness and beauty of what is happening around is for Pushkin a kind of measure of a person's spirituality. Understanding the laws of nature and accepting them as the supreme arbiter in the evaluation of human life is Pushkin's main postulate. Akhmatova also compares two worldviews: which is based on love-passion and another - which is based on love for the world as God's creation.
My voice is weak, but my will does not weaken,
I even feel better without love.
The sky is high, the mountain wind is blowing,
And my thoughts are innocent.
Only nature, being gives man strength, is for him a source of inexhaustible energy. Sorrow and sadness in the world are transient, time heals all wounds. Man again becomes able to see and feel the world, to appreciate the beauty of God's creation. The passion that dries up the soul and captures the whole person will gradually disappear, just as it happens with a kind of "eclipse of reason" in Pushkin's "Demons", "Snowstorm" and "The Undertaker" from Belkin's Tales. Love is a wonderful and amazing feeling, but it should not overshadow the rest of the world for a person. That is why the subtext is clearly felt in the poem: the heroine, as if having survived an illness, returns to her normal state, sight and hearing return to her (the famous Pushkin “see and listen”).
The insomnia-nurse went to others,
I do not languish over gray ash...
And the clock tower crooked arrow
It doesn't seem like a deadly arrow to me.
A somewhat similar interpretation of love is present in I. Bunin, who also draws a clear distinction between love and passion. If love is a feeling that elevates the soul of a person, filling the world with new colors, light and joy, then passion is an obsession that dries up the soul, deprives it of strength, obscures all of God's creation and gradually replaces it (for example, the story "Mitya's love").
Speaking about Akhmatova's poetry, A. Blok once said that a poet should create as if he were in the face of God, while Akhmatova writes as if in front of her (in the place of God) is a man.
This kind of duality has been noticed by many researchers. On the one hand - poetry as the highest destination, "a conversation with God", but on the other - Akhmatov's poetry is also women's poetry, addressed "to a man." Essentially, two mutually exclusive concepts. But it is precisely Akhmatova's poetry that is remarkable in that in it she painfully overcomes this distance, moving from "communication with a man" to "a conversation with God." It is characteristic that in her poems there is gradually becoming noticeably less mannerism, decadent pretentiousness and exaltation of feelings. Moreover, she seems to be arguing with herself, but only yesterday, opposing the ordinariness, "feelings of simplicity" to the decadent anguish of past years. In essence, Akhmatova is changing aesthetics, undergoing fundamental changes in her creative manner. God was revealed to her in verses, and the image of a man faded, became small and insignificant.
How the past loses power over the heart!
Liberation is near. I'll forgive everything
Watching the beam run up and down
On damp spring ivy.
However, Akhmatova could not overcome the “feminine nature” of her work to the end. Yes, and it was hardly necessary. In her poems, she captured a much more important thing: the very transition from one worldview to another, all the drama of the loss of the ideal, and then the search and acquisition of a different meaning of life.
So, the poem is a vivid example of Akhmatova's philosophical lyrics. Mastering the traditions of the Russian poetic school (especially through the poetic world of Pushkin), Akhmatova develops them, saturates her poems with psychologism, and gives them a special, trusting intonation.
The work of A. Akhmatova had a huge impact on Russian poetry of the 20th century. In many ways, under her influence, the skill of such poets as M. Tsvetaeva, I. Brodsky and many others was formed.
Moscow writer Galina Kornilova recalls Anna Akhmatova. In the 1960s and 1970s, she was in charge of the poetry departments at the Literaturnaya Gazeta and the Znamya magazine.
- I lived in a communal apartment on the Arbat, we had a front room, where everyone turned off the lights so that there was no overspending. In the dark I wander to the phone, pick up the phone and hear her voice: "Galya, this is Akhmatova speaking, I would like to see you."
Anna Andreevna appeared. The spectacle is unforgettable. She was wearing a long lilac tunic. She had a posture that none of our modern people can no longer accept. She knew how to raise her head, straighten her shoulders and appear in such a way that everyone fell. Such supreme chic. In a deep, calm voice she said: "This is for me. Let's go." We frantically dropped our coats and followed her. She sat on the couch, we were in front of her on chairs. Out of the corner of her eye, she only saw that she had manuscripts there. "What would you like?" I explained to her what we want. I show the magazine, gathered myself so as not to tremble. She said: "Well, then I can read poetry to you, and you think about what to take." And she began to read.
I want roses, in that only garden,
Where the best in the world stands from the fences ...
I heard poetry, but I had something in my head, this voice was mesmerizing, I listened to the intonation of the voice. The feeling is that I'm somewhere in this voice, I can't tear myself away from it. This is such an extraordinary magnetism. And she continued, looking. She was amazingly smart. We think she is such a sublime poetess. This woman got out of such poverty, from such troubles in life. Georgy Ivanov did not love her, and she hated him. When I once came to her, she shook French magazines, Ehrenburg sent her: "This scoundrel, this scoundrel!" I say: "Who?" She says: "Ivanov. He writes about me in his unfortunate Petersburg Winters." I say: "Poet Ivanov?" - "Yes, what a poet he is," she says, "this is a nonentity." She simply raged, she could not hear Ivanov's name. He knew her attitude towards Gumilyov, that she stands as a wife. As her brother Viktor wrote: “When she married Gumilyov, the whole family was very happy, and then it started off again. Anya went to dad with us. Dad was interested in women all his life, nothing more, eternal novels, a lot of fans, a passionate romance ". I actually think it's a drama. A woman who sang love so much, she has such wonderful poems. And then I kept thinking: why? Maybe this is generally the property of a poetess? Don't know. I once said to her: “Anna Andreevna, I just read how Blok went with his mother to a sanatorium, went out for newspapers, went to the platform. “It teases me - Anna Akhmatova is sitting on the steps of the car.” “Yes?” - - although she knew the text very well, she was pleased to be reminded of it.
Did she remember Modigliani?
- She spoke. She took a magazine, one of those that Ehrenburg sent her, and said: "What are they talking about, these foreigners, what are they talking about. Me and Modigliani - what nonsense, what nonsense." This is what I heard.
- That is, there was no such passionate romance?
- Of course it was. She didn't want to know. This is wild in the eyes of our tradition: a person goes on a honeymoon trip, and then only her husband leaves, she goes back to Modigliani, arranges a stormy romance, and he draws her in all forms. How did it all come to light? When someone from those who were in Italy told me about this, it infuriated me until they arranged an exhibition where Anna Andreevna in all forms. Well, what can we say? Shut up here, that's all. She was dashing. She lived a very hard life. She achieved everything, became a great poetess, everyone loves her, everyone reads her. But God forbid from such a hard life. The fate of her was very difficult. She was alone. I said, I told her friends: "I'll go to my son, to Lyova, I want to talk to him. How can that be?" They say: "He will throw you out. You know what kind of person he is, he will simply push you off the site. Don't go there, you've already tried, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He will simply cripple you." The man who spent so many years in the camp is also a completely destitute person. Firstly, she left him with her grandmother in the village, he lived there for four years, a boy, in four years she came only once in total. A small child at all. Something is deposited in a child for life. His father loved him very much, he loved the Gumilyovs' house very much, when it all fell apart, he ended up nowhere. Here she lived in the Fountain House in recent years with Punin. It's a wild situation there. They gathered at the table, the wife is sitting, Anna Andreevna is sitting, Punin's children are sitting, and her son also comes, sits down at the table. Punin says: "There is no butter, it is only Ire." Nobody touches the oil. I was there several times, in St. Petersburg, I have a feeling that formally they treated her well, they helped with food.
What did she love?
- I liked to drink vodka, I loved vodka. She ate little, in general, loved feasts. Did she know how to cook something? I don't know, I'm not sure. One day, however, she cooked onion soup in front of me. She came from Paris when she was traveling, in Paris she bought onion soup in these little things. She says: "Now I'm going to cook onion soup." So she poured this soup into a saucepan, it turned out that we allegedly ate onion soup. This was the only time she cooked in front of me, and someone helped her. Anna Andreevna did not know how to sew; her skirt was always torn if she did not receive, if there were no guests, she had holes in her linen. She came from abroad, opened her suitcase, a lot of young people were also sitting: "I brought gifts to everyone, now I will distribute them." Pulls red panties out of the suitcase, panties in the air: "To whom?" I say "me". To finish fluttering panties over our heads. She pulled out such things and gave them away to everyone. This, by the way, is very characteristic of her, she is always so decorous outwardly, but in fact she is not an aristocrat at all, she is such a gifted plebeian who has played an aristocrat in front of her admirers all her life. A very gifted man from the bottom, who managed to make himself. She made herself beautiful, but with her data she could have been ugly, but she managed to find style from her strange appearance, because she had ambition. It is known that at the age of 12 she told her mother: "A board about me will hang here." And the mother said: "How badly I brought you up." And they hung up the board.
I came to her, fascinated by her poems, and left her, still having received a lesson. Do you know what? Courage, to put it bluntly. Because this man has made his way through life. She instantly understood people, as soon as a person comes, she splits him. She knew and understood everything. She lived in her circle, like most poets, she lived in the circle of her poems, her friends. She once said: "Galya, I would like you to bring Bulat Okudzhava." And at this time, shortly before this, Bulat divorced Galya, with his wife, who died tragically after that, married Olya and lived for some time in St. Petersburg. I immediately called him: "Bulat, Anna Andreevna wants to see you." He says: "Listen, I'm afraid." - "Are you afraid of something?" - "When?" - "After two days". He came with Olya, I met them from the train, I was taking them to Anna Andreevna. Bulat, I see, was completely crushed, and he did not have a guitar. If there had been a guitar, the evening would certainly have been different. He sits with Olya and is silent, depressed, silent. Olya says. The failure is complete. Then it all ended, I went to see them off on the train, I think: how terrible it all is. I come, Anna Andreevna is still sitting like a queen in her chair and says these words: "Your Bulat is wonderful, but his wife is no good." Arseny Tarkovsky, handsome then, came with me to read poetry. He read poetry to her, and I modestly sat on the sidelines. He left, she says: "Galya, how did you like his poems?" I said: "Anna Andreevna, I'm not very good." "I'm not very good either."
- Tell me, what kind of relationship did Anna Andreevna have with Marina Tsvetaeva?
- Actually, Anna Andreevna did not love her. Such a case. Anna Andreevna read me poems in Komarovo, in my opinion, "There are four of us." She turns to her departed poet friends. I say: "Anna Andreevna, what about Tsvetaeva?" She says: "Tsvetaeva, yes, Marina." And a new stanza "We are five" appears.
So she remembered?
This is what I reminded her of. And this was not. And there:
Two? Also on the east wall
In thickets of strong raspberries,
Dark, fresh elderberry...
This is a letter from Marina.
Of course, where I worked, I primarily printed Akhmatova. Immediately I printed her elegies, a large selection. I worked at Znamya as a department head, and I published it regularly. Then I once asked her: "Anna Andreevna, I decided to publish St. Petersburg poets, to make such a large selection." "That's very good, that's right." I went to collect Petersburg poets. As we agreed with Anna Andreevna, they were to come to my hotel. And here come the beauties. I say: "Guys, I have such an idea, maybe I'll print it, read poetry." And now they read everything to me in turn, I sit and listen rather dejectedly, because I understand that this Petersburg school, the excellent school of Petersburg poets, but this is all very uninteresting, because Gumilyov described it all much better, Anna Andreevna herself, what are these literary boys. And since I have been doing poetry for a long time, I saw this. The last one was red. I say, "Now you." And he began to read, and I was stunned.
Because the art of poetry requires words
I am one of the deaf, bald, sullen ambassadors...
... Several of her friends call me in a row: "Galya, are you going to Anna?" I used to visit her all the time. I say: "Yes, I'm going to the funeral tomorrow, I want to call on her." - "Just don't say that Pasternak died, we hide it from her." I say, "Of course I won't." I was at the funeral, I went home by train, and then I went to the hospital. The chamber is huge, there are a lot of people. I put on a bathrobe, we went out, sat down, such a long corridor, an open room, a palm tree and a bench with a back. We sat down. "Galya, where did you come to me from?" she says. I can't lie to her, I say: "Anna Andreevna, I came from Pasternak's funeral." I thought: God, now she will faint, she will have a heart attack, I will simply ruin her. Suddenly she turns to me and says: "Tell me." I told her everything, how I walked, I was in Peredelkino for the first time, how I found my way, how I came to this house, how they carried the coffin, how some girl was sitting, crying. How the coffin was carried, my husband Volodya Kornilov also carried this coffin, how the correspondents sat in the trees, all the details. And also, when I was walking along Peredelkino, it was a wild state, all the windows were closed, as if the village had died out, no one came out, people all closed in their houses. But there were a lot of young people, there were foreigners, there were ordinary people. The coffin was carried out, and a huge crowd walked across the field. A peasant came out and said: "Here he alone greeted us. When he went out for a walk, he gave me his hand, and no other writer." I told all this. She sits silent. Then he says: "This is a real Russian funeral. This must be earned."
- And how did Akhmatova die?
They didn't know what to do with her. The house was being renovated, it was already very bad, what to do with it. And then Nina came up with a sanatorium, although, of course, it was impossible to touch her. We came that day, when she was leaving, with Tolya Naiman. She got dressed, a car approached, it was already difficult for her to walk. Tolya took her by the arm, and I walked behind with a chair, a chair was placed on the platforms, she was sitting. They brought her together to the car, she didn’t even turn to me, she was somehow completely different, it was clear that she was ending. She is a very strong person, she held on, but it was evident that this was her completely tragic departure, her last farewell.
But I warn you
That I live for the last time.
Neither a swallow, nor a maple,
Neither a reed nor a star,
Nor spring water
Not a bell ringing -
I won't embarrass people
And visit other people's dreams
An unsatisfied groan.
