Oak leaf. Mikhail Lermontov - leaf

You need to read the poem “Leaf” by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov with the understanding that in it, as in other works of the poet, there is a theme of loneliness and finding oneself in a harsh world. Mikhail Yuryevich conveyed his thoughts and emotions through two images - an oak leaf that wanders around the world and a young plane tree telling about his carefree life on the Black Sea coast. The poem consists of six stanzas, two of which are devoted to descriptions of the oak leaf and plane tree, and the remaining four to their dialogue. The leaf - “withered and faded”, “teared off from its native branch” - a symbol of such emotions as melancholy and loneliness in this mortal world. When describing the leaf, the poet did not use bright epithets. The same cannot be said about plane tree - its description consists of bright colors and epithets, from which the reader creates a prosperous image of a tree growing on the coast. The remaining four stanzas are devoted to the dialogue between the leaf and the plane tree. In them, an oak leaf asks for shelter among the “emerald leaves,” and in gratitude it promises to tell “many tricky and wonderful stories.” But the plane tree does not heed his pleas and believes that the oak leaf has no place among its fresh leaves, since it is “dusty and yellow,” and she compares his stories with fables. As a result, the proud and unapproachable plane tree, loved by the sun, drives away the oak leaf.

The text of Lermontov's poem "Leaf" was completely ready and presented to the readers and literary critics in 1941. the main idea The whole work is an antithesis - the opposition of a poor, gloomy and withered oak leaf and a young, prosperous and sun-loved plane tree. Through their dialogue, the author asks both the reader and himself about important things - whose life is better - a leaf filled with suffering, experience and wisdom or a plane tree that knows nothing but prosperity? In addition, the reader is interested in whether the poet condemns the plane tree for callousness? More likely yes than no, because lyrical hero Lermontov is the very leaf that will never be found peace of mind in the world, remaining lonely and unwanted with a heart filled with almost universal melancholy.

On our website you can learn a poem online, as well as download the work and description in one file absolutely free. The presented material can be used as an addition to a literature lesson in the 6th grade, dedicated to the life and work of Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov.

An oak leaf tore off from a branch
And he rolled off into the steppe, driven by a fierce storm;
He withered and withered from the cold, heat and grief
And finally, it reached the Black Sea.

A young plane tree stands by the Black Sea;
The wind whispers with her, caressing the green branches;
Birds of paradise swing on green branches;
They sing songs about the glory of the Tsar-Maiden of the Sea.

And the wanderer pressed himself at the root of a tall plane tree;
He prays for shelter for a while with deep anguish,
And so he says: “I am a poor oak leaf,
I matured before my time and grew up in a harsh homeland.

I’ve been running around the world alone and aimlessly for a long time,
I withered without a shadow, I withered without sleep and peace.
Accept the stranger between your emerald leaves,
I know a lot of tricky and wonderful stories.”

“What do I need you for? - answers the young plane tree, -
You are dusty and yellow - and no match for my fresh sons.
You have seen a lot - but why do I need your tall tales?
My ears have long been tired of the birds of paradise.
Move on; O wanderer! I don't know you!
I am loved by the sun, I bloom and shine for him;
I spread branches across the sky here in the open space,
And my roots are washed by the cold sea.”

"Leaf" Mikhail Lermontov

An oak leaf tore off from a branch
And he rolled off into the steppe, driven by a fierce storm;
He withered and withered from the cold, heat and grief
And finally, it reached the Black Sea.

A young plane tree stands by the Black Sea;
The wind whispers with her, caressing the green branches;
Birds of paradise swing on green branches;
They sing songs about the glory of the Tsar-Maiden of the Sea.

And the wanderer pressed himself at the root of a tall plane tree;
He prays for shelter for a while with deep anguish,
And so he says: “I am a poor oak leaf,
I matured before my time and grew up in a harsh homeland.

I’ve been running around the world alone and aimlessly for a long time,
I withered without a shadow, I withered without sleep and peace.
Accept the stranger between your emerald leaves,
I know a lot of tricky and wonderful stories.”

“What do I need you for? - answers the young plane tree, -
You are dusty and yellow - and no match for my fresh sons.
You've seen a lot - but why do I need your tall tales?
My ears have long been tired of the birds of paradise.
Move on; O wanderer! I don't know you!
I am loved by the sun, I bloom and shine for him;
I spread branches across the sky here in the open space,
And my roots are washed by the cold sea.”

Analysis of Lermontov's poem "Leaf"

The last period of Mikhail Lermontov's work is associated with a deep rethinking of his life. In his works, the author analyzed own experience, purpose, purpose and beliefs. It was at this time, in the spring of 1841, a few months before his death, that the poet wrote the poem “Leaf,” which can rightfully be considered autobiographical.

This work is very metaphorical, since the poet compares himself to an oak leaf that “teared off from its native branch” and went on a journey “driven by a cruel storm.” Already in the first lines of the work there is a hint of Lermontov’s Caucasian exile, which forced the poet to leave his native estate and brilliantly Moscow society, give up social life and numerous friends. In essence, Lermontov found himself in a foreign land. Moreover, against his will, like an oak leaf, torn off by a gust of wind and carried to the steppe. Scorched by the sun, yellowed and dusty, he seeks refuge on the shores of the Black Sea. In the same way, the poet tried to find himself in a new, alien and completely indifferent world, counting on the fact that the distant Caucasus could become his second homeland. This, unfortunately, did not happen; the worldviews of the poet and those people who surrounded him in a foreign land were too different. This is also confirmed by the poem in which an oak leaf tried to attach itself to the roots of a proud, beautiful plane tree standing alone on seashore. The leaf asked her for little - just shade from the spreading branches, which could protect it from the scorching southern sun. In return, the wanderer promised to tell the plane tree a lot amazing stories about your travels.

However, the fascinating stories turned out to be unnecessary for the plane tree. “You have seen a lot - but why do I need your tales?” - this was the answer of the proud beauty. If we draw a parallel with the life of the poet, the similarity is obvious, since Lermontov’s talent, which many admired in Russia, turned out to be of no use to anyone in the Caucasus with its Eastern culture and completely different life values. Moreover, the indigenous inhabitants of the mountains disdained the poet’s attempts to establish friendly relations with them, since they believed that, due to his status, Lermontov, who had noble origin, but in disgrace, occupies a much lower level than the horseman, respected by all. “You are dusty and yellow - and not a match for my fresh sons” - these lines confirm the fact that Lermontov was rejected by local society and, in particular, by the first Caucasian beauties, who initially captivated the poet’s ardent imagination.

In the last stanza of the poem “Leaf,” the beautiful plane tree openly drives away the stranger, advising him to move on and seek his happiness in other places. In these parts, she is a full-fledged mistress, her life flows happily, measuredly, it is filled with bliss, love and warmth. There is no place in her for someone who tried to disturb her peace so treacherously and asked for help. Now it is difficult to judge whether such a dialogue actually took place between Lermontov and one of the temperamental residents of the Caucasus.

However, the fact remains that an exile forced to leave Russian capital, in the south no one was waiting. Hoping to find peace of mind among the mountain villages, Lermontov very soon realized that the local way of life, measured and full of age-old wisdom, made him feel despondent. At the same time, the poet’s harsh and hot-tempered character repelled him local residents. As a result, the poet felt endlessly lonely and useless, realizing that it was unlikely to find a place on earth where he could be truly happy, free and in demand as a writer.

An oak leaf tore off from a branch
And he rolled off into the steppe, driven by a fierce storm;
He withered and withered from the cold, heat and grief
And finally, it reached the Black Sea.

A young plane tree stands by the Black Sea;
The wind whispers with her, caressing the green branches;
Birds of paradise swing on green branches;
They sing songs about the glory of the Tsar-Maiden of the Sea.

And the wanderer pressed himself at the root of a tall plane tree;
He prays for shelter for a while with deep anguish,
And so he says: “I am a poor oak leaf,
I matured before my time and grew up in a harsh homeland.

I’ve been running around the world alone and aimlessly for a long time,
I withered without a shadow, I withered without sleep and peace.
Accept the stranger between your emerald leaves,
I know a lot of tricky and wonderful stories.”

“What do I need you for? - answers the young plane tree, -
You are dusty and yellow - and no match for my fresh sons.
You've seen a lot - but why do I need your tall tales?
My ears have long been tired of the birds of paradise.
Move on; O wanderer! I don't know you!
I am loved by the sun, I bloom and shine for him;
I spread branches across the sky here in the open space,
And my roots are washed by the cold sea.”

Analysis of the poem “Leaf” by Lermontov

Lermontov's latest works are most often autobigraphic and dedicated to his difficult fate. The poem “Leaf”, written by the poet a few months before his death, became the same. The image of a leaf torn off by a storm was very popular in European and Russian poetry early XIX century. The immediate source for Lermontov was the poem of the same name French poet Arno. A significant difference was the addition of a request for shelter to the plot and the refusal received. Thanks to this, Lermontov’s work acquires civic significance, and the leaf symbolizes an exile for political reasons.

In the image of the leaf, the fate of Lermontov himself is clearly visible, in particular, his two Caucasian exiles. The poet did not go to the Caucasus of his own free will. He was forced to do so royal power(“driven by a cruel storm”). The author also did not find understanding in Russia itself, so his whole life was a combination of “cold, heat and grief.” Tired of long journeys and wanderings in search of peace, the author finds temporary refuge near the “Black Sea”.

During his first exile, Lermontov was fascinated by the peculiar beauty of the Caucasus. The “unknown country” attracted the poet’s creative soul; in it he wanted to find peace and a new source of inspiration. Lermontov admired the rich cultural heritage East, which was still little known to Europeans.

Lermontov was considered a closed and unsociable person in society. This reputation was well deserved. Rich inner world No one was interested in the poet, and his works were not popular. This attitude exacerbated the poet’s loneliness. He himself unwittingly adapted to the prevailing opinion and could no longer change himself. During his first exile, he tried to enter local society. But they had their own laws. Russian society surrounded by Caucasians, he was able to adapt to Eastern culture, and it was already too late for the poet to change his character. He was perceived as a strange stranger.

Lermontov's proud and independent character led to the fact that he could no longer feel at home anywhere. Poetic image A leaf torn off by a storm was surprisingly accurately suitable for describing the tragic situation of the poet.

An oak leaf tore off from a branch
And he rolled off into the steppe, driven by a fierce storm;
He withered and withered from the cold, heat and grief
And finally, I reached the Black Sea,

A young plane tree stands by the Black Sea;
The wind whispers with her, caressing the green branches;
Birds of paradise swing on green branches;
They sing songs about the glory of the maiden king of the sea,

And the wanderer pressed himself at the root of a tall plane tree;
He prays for shelter for a while with deep anguish,
And so he says: “I am a poor oak leaf,
I matured before my time and grew up in a harsh homeland.

I’ve been running around the world alone and aimlessly for a long time,
I withered without a shadow, I withered without sleep and peace.
Accept the stranger between your emerald leaves,
I know a lot of tricky and wonderful stories.”

“What do I need you for? - answers the young plane tree, -
You are dusty and yellow, and fresh are no match for my sons.
You've seen a lot - but why do I need your tall tales?
My ears have long been tired of the birds of paradise.

Leaflet. M. Lermontov. 1841.

They fought for Napoleon and died in the Caucasus. "Oak leaf" by Irina Korzhenevskaya.

"... Against the background of a bright blue sky, Elbrus sparkled dazzlingly. The slopes of the mountains were covered with a dense spruce forest, peaks and hills of bizarre shapes rose from its depths, and along the bottom of the gorge, ringing in the pebbles in a silver voice, a light blue Laba with snow-white foam frolicked. The trees and rocks grew higher and higher and finally we entered the Zagedan gorge. It was Dreamland- the trees are three and four girths, and the height is seventy arshins, the grass is human height. Everything was solemn and majestic, even the silence.
The Abadzekhs lived very high in the rocks. They weren't expecting us. Buckshot screeched. An unimaginable noise arose in the village. After the shelling, as always, with a loud “hurray” we went to attack.
There was no longer a soul in the village. Traces of a hasty escape could be seen everywhere: the huts were wide open, rags and dishes were on the ground. Somewhere in the distance, cackling and bleating could be heard.
Our soldiers ran forward, looking into the saklya, grabbing whatever they liked along the way and scattering incendiary bombs. I walked slowly, choosing the best place to go down. I probably hesitated... Plumes of smoke were already rising around. It was necessary to get out quickly. I ran past the burning sakleys, but suddenly I heard a scream. In front of me, shooting sparks in all directions, the fence of a Circassian estate was burning. The scream was repeated and turned into a sob. Who could stay in the village? I ran along the fence, looking for an entrance, but it suddenly collapsed and almost crushed me. Jumping back into the bushes, I saw a saklya engulfed in fire. Orange tongues were already running across the roof, and smoke was pouring out of the door. Pressed against the window frame, the child screamed angrily.
The fence that lay in front of me looked like a shaggy orange carpet. I jumped over it and, choking from the heat and smoke, burst into the hut. I tripped over the body of a man with a bloody face lying on the threshold. The child was frightened of me and grabbed the window frame with a wild cry. I grabbed some kind of rag, threw it over the child and ran out of the saklya with him. Just in time! A burning beam collapsed.
Now I was rushing between two fires. The fence was no longer a carpet, but dense bushes. I ran straight through it, jumped and rolled down the slope with my burden.
Fate was merciful: the tree grabbed my uniform so tightly that it stopped my fall. I threw the smoldering rag off the child. Thank God, he was alive, he looked at me with wide eyes, convulsively clutching my shoulder. Then I felt pain in my left hand and discovered that my uniform was on fire. I put the child on the ground and began to put out the fire. Somehow I put it out. Now my uniform had one and a half sleeves.
No problem! I began to free myself from the hugs of the tree-holding tree.
The child no longer rolled his eyes. I stroked his disheveled little head and stood up. With a piercing cry, he grabbed my leg.
I don’t know why, my chest sank so painfully. I picked up the child. He was light as a feather. He wrapped his thin arms around my neck and pressed me to my chest. This creature demanded to be taken care of. It trusted me!

- I won’t give it to anyone, don’t be afraid! — I lightly patted the child. He screamed. Lifting my shirt, I discovered several deep scratches on the back, a burn on my left leg and...

- Uh... It turns out that you are a girl! - I said disappointed. - How so! You are in vain. I thought you and I were going to start a fire

The girl looked at me carefully. She looked no more than four years old. Thin, dirty and frightened, she was ugly. And I felt even more sorry for her..."

The novel "The Oak Leaf" was published in 1964.

The central image of the poem by M.Yu. Lermontov’s “Leaf”, written in 1841, became an “oak leaf” torn from the “native branch”, “driven by a cruel storm”. Lermontov scholars point out the connection between the poem “Leaf” and the elegy of the French poet Antoine Arnault.
main topic The poem “Leaf” is a search for peace and warmth in this cruel world, an attempt to escape loneliness.
The leaf in the poem has matured before its time. This is a symbol of the Lermontov generation, which, like the leaf, matured prematurely and began to lead an aimless life. And in the leaf’s journey to the south, an autobiographical motive of exile is discerned.
The lyrical plot of the poem develops in an allegorical form; it is built on the opposition of two images: a leaf and a plane tree. The wandering leaf experiences the hostility of the surrounding world: heat and cold make it dry and wither, the sun is against it, the wind is also cruel to the leaf. But with plane tree the wind and the sun live in friendship and harmony.

Leaflet - Lermontov M.Yu

An oak leaf tore off from a branch
And he rolled off into the steppe, driven by a fierce storm;
He withered and withered from the cold, heat and grief
And finally, it reached the Black Sea.
A young plane tree stands by the Black Sea;
The wind whispers with her, caressing the green branches;
Birds of paradise swing on green branches;
They sing songs about the glory of the Tsar-Maiden of the Sea.
And the wanderer pressed himself at the root of a tall plane tree;
He prays for shelter for a while with deep anguish,
And so he says: “I am a poor oak leaf,
I matured before my time and grew up in a harsh homeland.
I’ve been running around the world alone and aimlessly for a long time,
I withered without a shadow, I withered without sleep and peace.
Accept the stranger between your emerald leaves,
I know a lot of tricky and wonderful stories."
What do I need you for? - answers the young plane tree, -
You are dusty and yellow, and no match for my fresh sons.
You've seen a lot - but why do I need your tall tales?
My ears have long been tired of the birds of paradise.
Move on; O wanderer! I don't know you!
I am loved by the sun, I bloom and shine for him;
I spread branches across the sky here in the open space,
And my roots are washed by the cold sea."
1841

Read by Irakli Andronnikov
Irakli Luarsabovich Andronikov (sometimes the spelling Andronnikov is found; 1908 - 1990) - Soviet writer, literary critic, master fiction story, TV presenter. National artist USSR (1982).

Mikhail Yurievich Lermontov (October 3, 1814, Moscow - July 15, 1841, Pyatigorsk) - Russian poet, prose writer, playwright, artist. Lermontov's work, which successfully combines civil, philosophical and personal motives, responding to the urgent needs of the spiritual life of Russian society, marked a new flowering of Russian literature. It had a great influence on the most prominent Russian writers and poets of the 19th century and 20th centuries Lermontov's dramaturgy had a huge influence on the development theatrical arts. Lermontov's works received a great response in painting, theater, and cinema. His poems became a true treasure trove for opera, symphony and romance, many of them became folk songs.