Small architectural forms

Everything is in a deep dead sleep, terrible silence. A new day is coming. Subject song “The blacksmith is coming from the forge”

Once on Epiphany evening
The girls wondered:
A shoe behind the gate,
They took it off their feet and threw it;
The snow was cleared; under the window
Listened; fed
Counted chicken grains;
The ardent wax was heated;
In a bowl of clean water
They laid a gold ring,
The earrings are emerald;
White boards spread out
And over the bowl they sang in harmony
The songs are amazing.

The moon glows dimly
In the twilight of the fog -
Silent and sad
Dear Svetlana.
“What’s wrong with you, girlfriend?
Say a word;
Listen to the songs in a circular manner;
Take out your ring.
Sing, beauty: “Blacksmith,
Forge me gold and a new crown,
Forge a gold ring;
I should be crowned with that crown,
Get engaged with that ring
With the holy tax."

“How can I, girlfriends, sing?
Dear friend is far away;
I'm destined to die
Lonely in sadness.
The year has flown by - no news;
He doesn't write to me;
Oh! and for them only the light is red,
Only the heart breathes for them.
Or won't you remember me?
Where, which side are you on?
Where is your abode?
I pray and shed tears!
Quench my sorrow
Comforter angel."

Here in the little room the table is set
A white veil;
And on that table it stands
Mirror with a candle;
Two cutlery on the table.
“Make a wish, Svetlana;
In a clean mirror glass
At midnight, without deception
You will know your lot:
Your darling will knock on the door
With a light hand;
The lock will fall from the door;
He will sit down at his device
Having dinner with you."

Here is one beauty;
sits down at the mirror;
With secret timidity she
Looking in the mirror;
It's dark in the mirror; all around
Dead silence;
Candle with flickering fire
The radiance is shining a little...
The timidity in her stirs her chest,
She's afraid to look back
Fear clouds the eyes...
The fire burst out with a crackling sound,
The cricket cried pitifully
Midnight Messenger.

Leaning on my elbow,
Svetlana is barely breathing...
Here... lightly lock
Someone knocked and heard it;
He looks timidly in the mirror:
Behind her
Someone seemed to be shining
Bright eyes...
The spirit was filled with fear...
Suddenly a rumor flies into her
Quiet, light whisper:
“I am with you, my beauty;
The skies have tamed;
Your murmur has been heard!”

Looked back... dear to her
He stretches out his hands.
"Joy, the light of my eyes,
There is no separation for us.
Let's go! The priest is already waiting in the church
With the deacon, sextons;
The choir sings a wedding song;
The temple sparkles with candles."
There was a touching look in response;
They go to the wide yard,
Through the plank gates;
Their sleighs are waiting at the gate;
The horses rush impatiently
Silk reins.

The horses sat down at once;
They puff smoke through their nostrils;
From their hooves rose
Blizzard over the sleigh.
They gallop... everything around is empty,
The steppe in the eyes of Svetlana:
There is a foggy circle on the moon;
The meadows sparkle a little.
The prophetic heart trembles;
Timid maiden says:
“Why did you stop talking, honey?”
Not a word in response to her:
He looks at the moonlight
Pale and sad.

The horses race over the hills;
Trampling deep snow...
There's a temple of God on the side
Seen alone;
The whirlwind opened the doors;
Darkness of people in the temple;
Bright light chandelier
The incense fades;
In the middle there is a black coffin;
And the pop says in a drawn-out voice:
“Be taken by the grave!”
The girl is trembling even more
The horses are passing by; friend is silent
Pale and sad.

Suddenly there is a snowstorm all around;
The snow is falling in clumps;
The black corvid, whistling with its wing,
Hovering over the sleigh;
The raven croaks: sadness!
The horses are in a hurry
They look sensitively into the black distance,
Raising their manes;
A light glimmers in the field;
A peaceful corner is visible
Hut under the snow.
Greyhound horses are faster,
Exploding snow, straight towards her
They run in unison.

So they rushed... and instantly
Gone from my eyes:
Horses, sleigh and groom
It's as if they haven't been there.
Lonely, in the dark,
Abandoned by a friend
In scary places, damsels;
There is a snowstorm and blizzard all around.
There is no trace of returning...
She can see the light in the hut:
Here she crossed herself;
He knocks on the door with a prayer...
The door shook... creaked...
Quietly dissolved.

Well? There is a coffin in the hut; covered
White cufflink;
Spasov's face is standing at his feet;
Candle in front of the icon...
Oh! Svetlana, what's wrong with you?
Whose monastery did you go to?
Scary empty huts
Unresponsive resident.
Enters with trepidation, in tears;
She fell to dust before the icon,
I prayed to the Savior;
And with his cross in his hand
Under the saints in the corner
She timidly hid.

Everything has calmed down... there is no blizzard...
The candle is smoldering faintly,
It will shed a trembling light,
It will go dark again...
Everything is in a deep, dead sleep,
Terrible silence...
Chu, Svetlana!.. in silence
Light murmur...
Here he looks: in her corner
Snow-white dove
With bright eyes
Breathing quietly, he arrived,
He quietly sat down on her chest,
He hugged them with his wings.

Everything around me fell silent again...
Here Svetlana thinks,
What's under the white sheet
The dead man is moving...
The cover was torn off; dead man
(A face darker than the night)
The whole thing is visible - a crown on the forehead,
Eyes closed.
Suddenly... there is a groan in the closed lips;
He tries to push
Hands have grown cold...
What about the girl?.. She’s trembling...
Death is close... but does not sleep
White dove.

Startled, turned around
Lungs he is a krill;
He flew up onto the dead man's chest...
All devoid of strength,
He groaned and grated
He's scary with his teeth
And he sparkled at the maiden
With menacing eyes...
Pallor on the lips again;
In rolled eyes
Death was depicted...
Look, Svetlana... oh creator!
Her dear friend is dead!
Oh! ...and woke up.

Where?.. At the mirror, alone
In the middle of the bright room;
In a thin window curtain
The ray of the morning star is shining;
The rooster flaps its noisy wings,
We greet the day with singing;
Everything glitters... Svetlana's spirit
Confused by a dream.
"Oh! terrible, terrible dream!
He speaks unkindly -
Bitter fate;
The secret darkness of the days to come,
What do you promise my soul?
Joy or sadness?

Sat down (chest aches heavily)
Under the window Svetlana;
From the window there is a wide path
Visible through the fog;
The snow glistens in the sun,
The steam is thin...
Chu!.. in the distance the empty thunders
The bell is ringing;
There is snow dust on the road;
They rush as if on wings,
Sleigh horses are zealous;
Closer; now at the gate;
A stately guest is coming to the porch...
Who?.. Svetlana's fiance.

What is your dream, Svetlana?
Diviner of torment?
Friend is with you; he's still the same
In the experience of separation;
The same love in his eyes,
The same looks are pleasant;
Those on sweet lips
Nice conversations.
Open, God's temple;
You're flying to the skies
Faithful vows;
Gather together, old and young;
Shifting the bells of the bowl, in harmony
Sing: many years!
________________

Smile, my beauty,
To my ballad;
There are great miracles in it,
Very little stock.
With your happy gaze,
I don’t want fame either;
Glory - we were taught - smoke;
The world is an evil judge.
Here are my sense of ballads:
“Our best friend in this life
Faith in Providence.
The good of the creator is the law:
Here misfortune is a false dream;
Happiness is awakening.”
ABOUT! don't know these terrible dreams
You, my Svetlana...
Be the creator, protect her!
No sadness or wound,
Not a moment of sadness shadow
Let him not touch her;
Her soul is like a clear day;
Oh! let it fly by
Past is a hand of disaster;
Like a pleasant stream
Shine in the bosom of the meadow,
May her whole life be bright,
Be as cheerful as you were
days her friend.

Analysis of the ballad “Svetlana” by Zhukovsky

Written in the era of romanticism, the poem “Svetlana” emphasizes the spirit of the era. Written in the ballad genre, it is especially distinguished by mystical ideas and folklore elements - Christmas fortune-telling, supernatural events, fragments of ritual songs and prayers. The author dedicated his ballad to his niece, who was about to get married - A. Protasova.

The central theme of the poem is Christmas fortune-telling, popular at that time. Fortune telling on the betrothed on Christmas night was a common occurrence among unmarried girls, since almost all of them wanted to know whether someone would soon take them down the aisle, and who the mysterious betrothed would be.

The poet very colorfully emphasizes the experiences of the main character, whose fiancé has left for a distant country and has not made himself known for a long time. She is sad to watch the fortune-telling of her girlfriends, who do not know the feeling of longing and anxiety for a loved one. However, she is still involved in the process, and already left alone, Svetlana decides to undergo a mystical ritual. Melancholy and anxiety prompt her to want to find out what happened to her betrothed, whether he will return alive and unharmed, or whether the heroine will remain unmarried forever.

The heroine is also clearly characterized by her name - Svetlana, light, a pure, immaculate soul in which faith is strong, she does not curse fate, does not complain, but simply believes in her love and the love of her fiancé. And even terrible visions of a dead man are unable to discredit her bright feeling.

The poet uses many symbols in describing the surrounding world and Svetlana’s dreams - for example, the raven, which in many cultures is a messenger of death and a bird that brings misfortune; a dove symbolizing the Holy Spirit saving the heroine from hellish darkness. The poem is filled with other symbols - dawn, returning everything to normal, and the crowing of a rooster, awakening a girl from a bad dream.

The ballad widely uses opposition and antithesis - the struggle between light and darkness, good and evil, faith and unbelief, love and death is depicted. This is precisely a ballad, although it is often interpreted by some as a poem. The presentation is very melodic, typical of a ballad. Trochee gives a special lyricism and melodiousness.

The poem is also distinguished by a wide variety of means of expression. There are also metaphors (“the light is an evil judge”), and epithets (“dear Svetlana, sparkling with bright eyes”), personification (“the cricket cried plaintively”), and hyperbole (“from their hooves a blizzard rose under their feet”). The vocabulary is rich in archaisms (ardent, mouth, utter) and historicisms (naloye, podblyudny songs).

It is precisely for its melody and romanticism that the poem has resonated in the hearts of readers for many years to this day.

A. A. Voeikova

“How can I, girlfriends, sing?
Dear friend is far away;
I'm destined to die
Lonely in sadness.
The year has flown by - no news;
He doesn't write to me;
Oh! and for them only the light is red,
Only the heart breathes for them...
Or won't you remember me?
Where, which side are you on?
Where is your abode?
I pray and shed tears!
Quench my sorrow
Comforter angel."

Here is one beauty;
sits down at the mirror;
With secret timidity she
Looking in the mirror;
It's dark in the mirror; all around
Dead silence;
Candle with flickering fire
A little light shines...
The timidity in her stirs her chest,
She's afraid to look back
Fear clouds the eyes...
The fire burst out with a crackling sound,
The cricket cried pitifully
Midnight Messenger.

The horses sat down at once;
They puff smoke through their nostrils;
From their hooves rose
Blizzard over the sleigh.
They gallop... everything around is empty;
The steppe in the eyes of Svetlana;
There is a foggy circle on the moon;
The meadows sparkle a little.
The prophetic heart trembles;
Timid maiden says:
“Why did you stop talking, honey?”
Not a word in response to her:
He looks at the moonlight
Pale and sad.

The horses race over the hills;
Trampling deep snow...
There's a temple of God on the side
Seen alone;
The whirlwind opened the doors;
Darkness of people in the temple;
Bright light chandelier
The incense fades;
In the middle there is a black coffin;
And the pop says in a drawn-out voice:
“Be taken by the grave!”
The girl is trembling even more;
The horses are passing by; friend is silent
Pale and sad.

Suddenly there is a snowstorm all around;
The snow is falling in clumps;
The black corvid, whistling with its wing,
Hovering over the sleigh;
The raven croaks: sadness!
The horses are in a hurry
They look sensitively into the distance,
Raising their manes;
A light glimmers in the field;
A peaceful corner is visible
Hut under the snow.
Greyhound horses are faster,
Exploding snow, straight towards her
They run in unison.

Well?.. There is a coffin in the hut; covered
White cufflink;
Spasov's face is standing at his feet;
Candle in front of the icon...
Oh! Svetlana, what's wrong with you?
Whose monastery did you go to?
Scary empty huts
Unresponsive resident.
Enters with trepidation, in tears;
She fell to dust before the icon,
I prayed to the Savior;
And, with his cross in his hand,
Under the saints in the corner
She timidly hid.

Startled, turned around
Lungs he is a krill;
He fluttered onto the dead man's chest...
All devoid of strength,
He groaned and grated
He's scary with his teeth
And he sparkled at the maiden
With menacing eyes...
Pallor on the lips again;
In rolled eyes
Death was depicted...
Look, Svetlana... oh creator!
Her dear friend is dead!
Ah!.. and woke up.

Where?.. At the mirror, alone
In the middle of the bright room;
In a thin window curtain
The ray of the morning star is shining;
The rooster flaps its noisy wings,
We greet the day with singing;
Everything glitters... Svetlana's spirit
Confused by a dream.
"Oh! terrible, terrible dream!
He doesn't speak well -
Bitter fate;
The secret darkness of the days to come,
What do you promise my soul?
Joy or sadness?

Sat down (chest aches heavily)
Under the window Svetlana;
From the window there is a wide path
Visible through the fog;
The snow glistens in the sun,
The steam is thin...
Chu!.. in the distance the empty thunders
The bell is ringing;
There is snow dust on the road;
They rush as if on wings,
Sledges, zealous horses;
Closer; now at the gate;
The stately guest comes to the porch.
Who?.. Svetlana's fiance.

ABOUT! don't know these terrible dreams
You, my Svetlana...
Be the creator, protect her!
No sadness or wound,
Not a moment of sadness shadow
Let him not touch her;
The soul in her is like a clear day;
Oh! let it fly by
Past - Disaster hand;
Like a pleasant stream
Shine in the bosom of the meadow,
May her whole life be bright,
Be as cheerful as you were
days her friend.

Konstantin Makovsky (1839-1915). Yule Fortune Telling (1900s)

On January 18, one of the most joyful Russian holidays - Christmastide - ends, and the Christian holiday of Epiphany begins. Many years ago, on Epiphany Christmas Eve, the mummers walked around the village for the last time, the last carols sounded, and in the evening the girls gathered to tell their fortunes about marriage.

Many of us remember the ballad of the Russian poet from school Vasily Andreevich Zhukovsky (1783-1852) "Svetlana"(1808-1812). This is the beginning.

Once on Epiphany evening
The girls wondered:
A shoe behind the gate,
They took it off their feet and threw it;
The snow was cleared; under the window
Listened; fed
Counted chicken grains;
The ardent wax was heated;
In a bowl of clean water
They laid a gold ring,
The earrings are emerald;
White boards spread out
And over the bowl they sang in harmony
The songs are amazing.

From it it is clear that the ballad takes place in Epiphany Christmas Eve - "Epiphany evening", and the girls are busy with one of the most mysterious Christmas rituals - the ritual of fortune telling. In the old days, it was popular among people who wanted to know what awaited them in the future, but mainly unmarried girls resorted to it, trying to predict whether they would soon walk down the aisle and what their betrothed would be like. For this, various types of fortune telling were used, the most significant of which were mentioned by Zhukovsky. Let's try to talk a little about each of them.

The shoe was taken off the foot behind the gate and thrown

The girls went out into the yard, took off the shoe from their left foot and threw it outside the gate into the street to find out where their betrothed lived, and then looked in which direction his toe was facing. Wherever the toe lies, the one who throws her in marriage will be given in that direction. If the shoe lay with its toe towards the gate from which it was thrown, this meant that in the coming year the girl was destined to live at home and not get married.

The snow was cleared

This fortune-telling involved not only snow, but also a tablecloth, which the girls took out into the yard, took it by the edges, unrolled it and poured a little snow into it. Then, rocking the tablecloth and throwing up snow, they said: “Field, field, white snow in the middle of the field. Bark, bark, little dog; find out, find out, betrothed! While saying these words, each girl listened to the barking of dogs. A hoarse bark meant that the husband would be an old man, a loud bark - a young man, and a thick bark - a widower.

Listened under the window

The girls walked around the village, stopping under the windows or at the doors of other people's houses and listening to the conversation. The character of the future husband was determined by it. A cheerful conversation promised a cheerful husband, a boring one - a bore, a drunken one - a drunkard husband. In addition, the age of the interlocutors was also important, according to which they made a conclusion about whether the husband would be old or young.

It also happened that the most courageous girls at midnight, when there was no service, approached the church, trying to hear some kind of singing behind the church doors and windows. If the fortune teller imagined that she heard wedding singing, then this meant an imminent marriage; and if "rest with the saints"- death in the coming year.

Fed the chicken with grain

This fortune telling was as follows. They took the chicken off the roost and let it peck the grain. Then the grain was counted. If the number turned out to be paired (even), this meant a quick marriage, otherwise the fortuneteller had to remain a wench until next year.

Ardent wax was drowned

Fortune telling with wax was very common during Christmas Eve. It was done as follows. Melt the wax and pour it into a glass of cold water. Then a person knowledgeable in fortune telling (usually an old nanny or a fortune teller) made predictions based on the resulting figures: something similar to a church meant a wedding, something like a pit or cave meant death.

Podblyudny songs

During Christmas Eve, one of the most common was fortune-telling. The girls gathered in some hut, put their rings or any other item (“gold ring, emerald earrings”) in a dish filled with water, (“a bowl of clean water”), covered it with a scarf (“they spread out a white cloth”) and performed songs specially designed for fortune telling (“over the bowl they sang subbed songs in tune”). After each such song, the dish was shaken, the decorations were mixed, and one of the girls, trying to find out her fate, randomly took one of them out of the dish. If it belonged to a fortune teller, it meant that the words of the song would come true; if the decoration was alien, then the words of the song did not apply to it. In the ballad, Zhukovsky used one of the most common subbowl songs. Here is one of her original options.

Subject song “The blacksmith is coming from the forge”

A blacksmith is coming from the forge.
“You are a blacksmith, you are a blacksmith!
And you forge me a crown!
From the leftovers to me
Gold ring,
From scraps for me
Pins.
And that’s my crowning glory
Get married,
Even with that ring for me
Get engaged,
Even with those pins
Stick to it."
Who did we sing to?
Good for that.
Who will take it out?
It will come true soon
It won't pass.

Mirror with candle

Painting by Karl Bryullov (1799-1852) “Fortune-telling Svetlana” (1836), Art Museum, Nizhny Novgorod.

But the most desperate and, according to everyone, the most effective was fortune telling with a mirror and a candle. It is no coincidence that the heroine of Zhukovsky’s ballad decides to attack him after a year of separation from her dear friend, when there is no news from him.

For this fortune-telling, they chose some dark, secluded room in which they placed a mirror on the table and a lit candle in front of it. The fortune-telling girl sat at the table and looked through a candle into the mirror, where she tried to see her betrothed, saying: “Betrothed, disguised, show yourself to me in the mirror!”

Sometimes for these purposes they used not one, but two mirrors: one standing on the table and a wall mirror. Directed towards each other, they formed something resembling a long corridor illuminated by lights. Mirrors had to be immaculately clean, without bubbles or other flaws. Then cats, dogs and birds were kicked out of the room, and strangers were also asked to leave. Those who remained, observing silence and deep silence, stood aside. They were required not to look in the mirror, not to approach the fortune-telling person and not to talk. The fortuneteller had to look in the mirror intently and motionlessly, directing her gaze to the end of the corridor that appeared to her.

Often the betrothed was invited to share a meal with his beloved, putting on the table everything necessary except forks and knives: two cutlery, bread, salt and spoons. Everyone around went out, and the girl, left alone, locked the doors and windows, sat down at the table and began to wait for her betrothed, saying: “Betrothed, mummer, come to me for dinner!”

Here in the little room the table is set
A white veil;
And on that table it stands
Mirror with a candle;
Two cutlery on the table.
“Make a wish, Svetlana;
In a clean mirror glass
At midnight, without deception
You will know your lot:
Your darling will knock on the door
With a light hand;
The lock will fall from the door;
He will sit down at his device
Having dinner with you."

The most interesting thing began at midnight, when the betrothed, summoned unwillingly, came to the fortune-telling room and looked in the mirror over the shoulder of his chosen one. As he approached, the wind often howled, and sometimes a foul smell could be heard. The girl examined the ghost's facial features and clothes and sometimes even asked his name.

Leaning on my elbow,
Svetlana is barely breathing...
Here... lightly lock
Someone knocked and heard it;
He looks timidly in the mirror:
Behind her
Someone seemed to be shining
Bright eyes...
The spirit was filled with fear...
Suddenly a rumor flies into her
Quiet, light whisper:
“I am with you, my beauty;
The skies have tamed;
Your murmur has been heard!”

Svetlana's mistake was that she neglected the rules "safety precautions" when telling fortunes. Firstly, she had to outline the splinter lit on Christmas Eve circle; secondly, under no circumstances look back, thirdly, to avoid a protracted visit, go crazy guest, saying: “Forget me! Out of my place! No more of my riddle! Otherwise, the ghost would do all sorts of mischief, and when churania it had to disappear. And finally, as a last resort (if it doesn’t help enchantment) Svetlana needed to take with her rooster, the singing of which, according to many fortunetellers, had the ability to scare away aliens from the other world. By the way, this belief was apparently known to Zhukovsky. The episode in the hut, when Svetlana is alone with the dead man threatening her, has similarities with the plot of some northern Russian fairy tales, where the heroine is helped in a similar situation by a rooster. True, Zhukovsky introduced a more “poetic” bird into the story - pigeon.

As you know, a ballad has a happy ending. Nightmares turn out to be dreams, Svetlana wakes up and sees her groom: “a stately guest is coming to the porch”, “the same love in his eyes”. But this is in the work of a romantic poet. Everything in life is much more complicated.

Sources:
Zhukovsky V. A. Ballads. Poems and fairy tales. M., 1982.
Zabylin M. Russian people, their customs, rituals, legends, superstitions and poetry. M., 1990.
Sakharov I.P. Tales of the Russian people. T. I. St. Petersburg, 1885.

Get engaged with that ring
With the holy tax."

“How can I, girlfriends, sing?
Dear friend is far away;
I'm destined to die
Lonely in sadness.
The year has flown by - no news;
He doesn't write to me;
Oh! and for them only the light is red,
Only the heart breathes for them...
Or won't you remember me?
Where, which side are you on?
Where is your abode?
I pray and shed tears!
Quench my sorrow
Comforter angel."

She's afraid to look back
Fear clouds the eyes...
The fire burst out with a crackling sound,
The cricket cried pitifully
Midnight Messenger.

The horses sat down at once;
They puff smoke through their nostrils;
From their hooves rose
Blizzard over the sleigh.
They gallop... everything around is empty,
The steppe in the eyes of Svetlana:

There is a foggy circle on the moon;
The meadows sparkle a little.
The prophetic heart trembles;
Timid maiden says:
“Why did you stop talking, honey?”
Not a word in response to her:
He looks at the moonlight
Pale and sad.

The horses race over the hills;
Trampling deep snow...
There's a temple of God on the side
Seen alone;
The whirlwind opened the doors;
Darkness of people in the temple;
Bright light chandelier
The incense fades;
In the middle there is a black coffin;
And the pop says in a drawn-out voice:
“Be taken by the grave!”
The girl is trembling even more;
The horses are passing by; friend is silent
Pale and sad.

Suddenly there is a snowstorm all around;
The snow is falling in clumps;
The black corvid, whistling with its wing,
Hovering over the sleigh;
The raven croaks: sadness!
The horses are in a hurry
They look sensitively into the distance,
Raising their manes;
A light glimmers in the field;
A peaceful corner is visible
Hut under the snow.
Greyhound horses are faster,
Exploding snow, straight towards her
They run in unison.

So they rushed... and instantly
Gone from my eyes:
Horses, sleigh and groom

It's as if they haven't been there.
Lonely, in the dark,
Abandoned by a friend
In scary places, damsels;
There is a snowstorm and blizzard all around.
There is no trace of returning...
She can see the light in the hut:
Here she crossed herself;
He knocks on the door with a prayer...
The door shook... creaked...
Quietly dissolved.

Well?.. There is a coffin in the hut; covered
White cufflink;
Spasov's face is standing at his feet;
Candle in front of the icon...
Oh! Svetlana, what's wrong with you?
Whose monastery did you go to?
Scary empty huts
Unresponsive resident.
Enters with trepidation, in tears;
She fell to dust before the icon,
I prayed to the Savior;
And with his cross in his hand,
Under the saints in the corner
She timidly hid.

Where?.. At the mirror, alone
In the middle of the bright room;
In a thin window curtain
The ray of the morning star is shining;
The rooster flaps its noisy wings,
We greet the day with singing;
Everything glitters... Svetlana's spirit
Confused by a dream.
"Oh! terrible, terrible dream!
He doesn't speak well -
Bitter fate;
The secret darkness of the days to come,

What do you promise my soul?
Joy or sadness?

Literature test Svetlana (V.A. Zhukovsky) for 9th grade students. The test consists of two options, each option contains 5 short-answer tasks and 3 general tasks with a detailed answer.

Well? There is a coffin in the hut; covered
White cufflink;
Spasov's face is standing at his feet;
Candle in front of the icon...
Oh! Light paw, what's wrong with you?
Whose monastery did you go to?
Scary empty huts
Unresponsive resident.
Enters with trepidation, in tears;
She fell to dust before the icon,
I prayed to the Savior;
And with his cross in his hand
Under the saints in the corner
She timidly hid.

Everything around me fell silent again...
Here the Light seems to the paw,
What's under the white sheet
The dead man is moving...
The cover was torn off; dead man
(A face darker than the night)
The whole thing is visible - a crown on the forehead,
Eyes closed.
Suddenly... in the mouths of a hundred closed
He tries to push
Hands have grown cold...
What about the girl?.. She’s trembling...
Death is close... but does not sleep
White dove.

Startled, turned around
Lungs he is a krill;
He flew to the dead man's chest,
All devoid of strength,
He groaned and grated
He's scary with his teeth
And he sparkled at the maiden
With menacing eyes...
Pallor on the lips again;
In rolled eyes
Death was depicted...
Look, Svetlana... oh creator!
Her dear friend is dead!
Oh! ... and woke up.

Where?.. At the mirror, alone
In the middle of the bright room;
In a thin window curtain
The ray of the morning star is shining;
The rooster flaps its noisy wings,
We greet the day with singing;
Everything glitters... Svetlana's spirit
Confused by a dream.
"Oh! A terrible, terrible dream!
He doesn't speak well -
Bitter fate;
The secret darkness of the days to come,
What do you promise my soul?
Joy or sadness?

Sat down (chest aches heavily)
Under the window Svetlana;
From the window there is a wide path
Visible through fogs;
The snow glistens in the sun,
The steam is thin...
Chu!.. in the distance the empty thunders
The bell is ringing;
There is snow dust on the road;
They rush as if on wings,
Sleigh horses are zealous;
Closer; now at the gate;
A stately guest is coming to the porch...
Who?.. Svetlana's fiance.

1 option

Short answer questions

1. Determine the genre of the work from which the fragment is taken.

2.
Everything is in a deep, dead sleep,
Terrible silence...

3. Indicate the name of the compositional element - an image of the interior decoration of the room:
Well? There is a coffin in the hut; covered
White cufflink;
Spasov's face is standing at his feet;
Candle in front of the icon...

4. What is the name of the reception?
Same love in his eyes
Those same pleasing to the eye;
Those same on sweet lips
Nice conversations...

5. Determine the size in which the work is written.

Long answer questions

Option 2

Short answer questions

1. To which direction of Russian literature of the first half of the 19th century does Zhukovsky’s work belong?

2. Indicate the name of the visual medium:
They rush as if on wings,
Sleigh horses zealous...

3. Indicate the name of the compositional element - the image of nature in a literary work:
From the window there is a wide path
Visible through fogs;
The snow glistens in the sun,
The steam is thin...

4. What is the name of the visual and expressive medium?
Snow-white dove
WITH light eyes,
Breathing quietly, he arrived...

5. Determine the rhyming method:
I prayed to the Savior;
And with his cross in his hand
Under the saints in the corner
She timidly hid.

Long answer questions

6. With the help of what visual means is the image of the heroine created and how exactly does she appear?

7. What is the allegorical meaning of the dove?

8. Compare fragments of works by V.A. Zhukovsky “Svetlana” and N.M. Karamzin "Poor Liza". How are the heroines similar?

Fragment of the work by N.M. Karamzin “Poor Liza” for task 8

Lisa sobbed - Erast cried - left her - she fell - knelt down, raised her hands to the sky and looked at Erast, who walked away - further - further - and finally disappeared - the sun rose, and Lisa, abandoned, poor, lost feelings and memory.
She came to her senses - and the light seemed dull and sad to her. All the pleasant things of nature were hidden for her along with those dear to her heart. "Oh! - she thought. - Why did I stay in this desert? What keeps me from flying after dear Erast? War is not scary for me; It's scary where my friend is not there. I want to live with him, I want to die with him, or I want to save his precious life with my death. Wait, wait, my dear! I fly to you!" She already wanted to run after Erast, but the thought: “I have a mother!” - stopped her. Lisa sighed and, bowing her head, walked with quiet steps towards her hut. From that hour, her days were days of melancholy and sorrow, which had to be hidden from her tender mother: all the more did her heart suffer! Then it only became easier when Lisa, secluded in the depths of the forest, could freely shed tears and moan about separation from her beloved. Often the sad turtledove combined his plaintive voice with her moaning. But sometimes - although very rarely - a golden ray of hope, a ray of consolation, illuminated the darkness of her sorrow. “When he returns to me, how happy I will be! How everything will change! From this thought her gaze cleared, the roses on her cheeks were refreshed, and Lisa smiled like a May morning after a stormy night.

Answers to the literature test Svetlana
1 option
1. ballad
2. epithet
3. interior
4. anaphora
5. trochee
Option 2
1. romanticism
2. comparison
3. landscape
4. epithet
5. shingles