How far into history to climb? In a not so distant hour of love, I nav_duvatis near Lipino, twenty-five versts from the booth. Against the ancient headless barrow, above the yak, shuliki soared in the smoky days, there was one pit. At this city, the river, resting against the unbreakable Devonian clay, rob the turn with such a temper that it starts to turn the whole vir, turning back - a circular flow. For years they circle here, but they can’t get on the free water of the trill, algae, which can wash the gourds uphill, the tricks of the ubiquitous polystyrene, and day and night grumbling, gurgling and sobbing terrible whirlwinds, like geese are unique. Well, at night, the virus and zovsim were not able to do it, if it was loud, hard to collapse on the coast of the Dmitry, or the lane on the water with a flat tail, nibi doshkoy, that the master of power rose from the yam.
As if I had caught the transporter Akimich beating his kuren for the secret fisherman's right. Having attached the eyepieces on the nose, seeing the golden cord from the trim of the drive belt, he saw the change. I scolded everything: there are no new available hacks.
I pored over my supplies, having seen the most homemade, bent ones from a blued two-millimeter dart, as if I had added it just like that, for exoticism, and hung down to Akimich's casket. That one, having struck one with unhearing, stubborn fingers, twirling it in front of the eyepieces, and looking malignantly at me, having closed one eye.
And I thought it was true. Come to the forge to pray. And take away your laughter.
I don’t know, having caught Akimich the ruler of Lipinois with yam, for then, for various reasons, a break had taken place in me, without becoming a traveler in that month. Only after a few years I had a chance to find my old seats.
Having gone and not knowing the rivers.
The riverbed resounded, bloomed, the clear pisky on the spins was drawn in by the cocklebur and the zhorst belokopitnik, a lot of unknown miles and kis appeared. There were no more deep pulls of swedes, earlier in the evening dawn they bored the river surface of the litter, bronzed the tongue. Buvalo, you get the tackle for wiring, but your fingers can’t put it in a ring with a fox - such a roaring excitement chills chirping cool, soundlessly breaking circles ... , a very black donna tina, who made her kind enough to be too kind, to be carried with watering boards.
“Well, now,” I think, “nothing was trapiled from Lipina’s pit. What could happen with such a beam!” I can’t believe it with my eyes: there, where it was terribly spinning and whirling, a hump of a viper brudny sery milin, similar to a great rounded ribin, and on that milyaku - an old goose. Standing vin so nedbalo, on one paw, preening, flailing with a breeze the breeze of a whistle-blowing krill. I was inattentive to the bad one, which until recently it was six or seven meters deep in a black seething depth, like wine itself, ocholyuyuchi vyvodok, fearfully pouring on the side.
Marveling at the overgrown river, which ice oozed with calm water, Akimich vaguely looked:
І navit vodok do not rewind! Dont spoil spirit. It's gone, Ivanovich, it's gone!
Akimich himself was gone at the Seymі, and his old river transport was gone.
On the birch, in the outline smoke, I have had more than once more summer nights. The same thing happened that we fought with Akimich, fought in the same and the same humpback third army, took part in the "Bagration", killed Bobruisk at once, and then Minsky boilers, took the same Belarusians and Polish. And navit vibuli z vyyni in the same month. Truth be told, we were treated differently for the hospital: I spent a meal to Serpukhov, and wine to Uglich.
It wounded Akimich without bloodshed, but it was important: a distant landmine filled up in the trenches and concussed him so that now, after ten years, having loosened up, having raptly spent the gift of language, the tongue of yogo nibi was tightly wedged, and shamelessly wagging his lips with a tube. So there was a sprinkling of frills, after which wine was deep, noisy zithav, waking up at your hospitality, thin shoulders, and cold sweat suffocating yogo tormented by silence and skam'yanil_styu disguise. "Chi isn't dead?" - it was rotten in me, if I was on the burnt remains of Yakim'ev's kuren.
An - ni! In the past autumn, I’m walking through the village, I’m going to look at the school again, I’m amazed at how well I took the greenery of my husband over the Seym. and nazustrich - Akimich! Hastily humming with kirzachs, a cap, a heating pad on the orange, on the shoulders - a shovel.
Hello, dear friend! - I spread my arms. blocking youma way. Akimich, blond, with unbearable lips, gave up without recognizing me. Mabut, yogo schoos svelo z itself і, as if in such vipadkas, wedged tightly.
Where are you missing?! Not visible on the river. Akimich hero ruin with a tube, trying to say
I marvel, your chickens were burned.
The deputy of the vidpovidі vins twisted with an eye-catching finger at the cloak, speaking, but the great mind does not require.
That you de infection, do not understand?
Still not coming to you, Akimich nodded his head in front of the school.
It's clear now. You guard, you garden. Where's the shovel?
Ah? - wriggled at him, and poking his shoulder out of annoyance, tormenting himself.
We went up the schoolhouse and fenced off the road, planted with old willows, already stupefied with autumn gilding. In nature, it was sleepy, warm and windy, like sometimes on an ear of fine wheat, if the rest of the chicory blossoms bloom and still grow on the back caps of the black-oxamite dzhmeli. And repeating the misfortune and mіtsne and gave zrozumіlі і vіdkritі to bezmezhnostі.
Directly in front of the school fence, in the vіrnіshe, in the road, where to pass along it, the river meadow began, like a summer green, with white interspersed with a tree, a goose fir and some meadow mushrooms. And only near the roadside willows, we burn a meadow of hoarseness with a leaf, narrow and long, similar to our seymsky fish-top. And because of the fence, it was heavy with the watery dug up earth and the hoppy apple prill. Here, behind the young apple trees, maybe, on the sports maidanchik, they lulled a chilly caress on a volleyball ball, which were sometimes accompanied by bursts of triumphant, lamentable childish wigukivs, and the chimes of young voices on a bezkhmarny strong noon, they did it with joyfulness and joy.
For the whole hour, Akimich shoved ahead of me, moving and super-chicks, as soon as they passed the fenced yard, snarling and squeezing in:
Ox, look...
By the roadside ditch there was a lyalka lying around. Vaughn lay dormant, spreading her arms and legs. Great and still pretty in appearance, with light, ice marked by a smile on swollen, childlike lips. Ale, light shovkovist hair on his head was singed with mists, his eyes were crushed, and dirka yawned on his nose. gone, maybe, with a cigarette. Htos zirvav z ne ї cloth, and pigeon panties zirvav to the very chereviks, and those places, as before, were curled up with them. tezh Bulo vysnazheno cigarette.
Whose job is it?
Who knows... - Akimich doesn’t reproach him, still staring at the little lyalka, over which it is so cynical that zhorstok sneered. - Nina cares who to think about. Someone who has endured to the worst and does not fight, as if they themselves do worse. And from them the children are recruited. Іz lyalkoyu tse not the first drop. I’m going to the district, and to the region, and I’m running: here and there - chi under the parkan, at the smіttєvіy kupі - the lyalki are lying around. Yaki straight, at the cloth, with a bow at the hair, and buva, - without a head: without both nig ... So I’m unkind to bachiti tse! Already with a lump of heart: squeeze ... Maybe, with me, I’ll fight like that. For all life; I marveled at the people ... Nachebto and razumієsh: Lyalka. So, even a human image. I'm so upset that the sight of a living child doesn't irritate you. I cry like people. And if you are like that lying around on a rough road - I can’t bachiti. B'є mee vsogo. And people walk sideways - skinned at their right, - and nothing ... Couples pass, hold hands, talk about kohanna, about children mriyut. Carrying little ones at the vіzkah - do not lead an eyebrow. Children run - chirp to such sacrilege. Axis i here: skilki povz passed the learning! Vranci - before school, evening - from school. And the smut - readers: even the stink of the same pass by. Axis scho I do not understand. How so?! Why do you learn, how beautiful, how good, how blind you are, your soul is deaf!... Eh!...
Akimich raptomly vanished, the appearance tensed up with that terrible yoga rock, and the lips themselves swayed like a cradle, nibi got stuck in them and caught it unseen.
I already knew that Akimich was "jammed" again and it would take a long time to speak now.
Vіn hunched over, staggering across the ditch and there, in the wasteland, around the corner of the school fence, beat the great burdock with leaves similar to elephants, going in to dig a hole, in front of the shovel shoveled the long contours. The growth of the lyalka was no more than a meter, but Akimich diligently and deeply dug, like a grave, dug up to the very waist. Zrivnyavshi wall, vіn so very movchki and vіdchaydno going to the stack on the vigonі, brought the rims of sin and hung the bottom with yams. Then I straightened my panties on the lyalts, clasped my hands in the air of the coat and lowered them in the mud like that. From above, having covered it with surpluses of son, and less than a second, I again took up the shovel.
I raptom vin zіtkhnov, nіbi virin z like glibini, and having washed with pain:
Do not bury usogo ...
The theme of war did not pass over Russian literature. A lot of rhymes, novels, verses are dedicated to this zhorstok hour of that war period. One such explanation lies with Evgen Nosov. Let's guess some problems and that short zmist. "Lyalka" by Evgen Nosov -
Tse is short, but penetrating rozpovid about the human heart, like not hardened for the fates of war.
Having given his own rozpovidi even a short zmist Nosov: "Lyalka" occupies only a few sides. Diya opovіdannya vіdbuvaєtsya for a spear of dozens of fates after the war. Tvir starts from the fact that, as a reminder, the small village of Lipino, where the wines often stop at the servicemen's right, is supposed to be. And there is a small place, a small river, creating a deep vir from a strong current, and in this vir, great catfish are found - "lords of the river." Often going around here at the time of the hour, I was told to poribaliti at once from my friend, old Akimich.
Sprat of rock. The river has softened, the virus is gone, and a hump has appeared on the yogo city. Nezabar did not become th Akimich.
The author guesses about the past days, how they fished for Akimich. It was clear that they served in the same army and that may have been hospitalized at once. Akimich buv shell-shocks, and infect at the same time in the vіn not a moment to re-dress in the ailments. When praised, the old one could not speak in a moment, his language was a word of wood, and he was no longer joyfully waving his lips into a tube.
As if in the autumn, having come to the village after a long day, and having woken, that Akimich’s hens had burned, in that same night. Ale, having shaken the old one, we live and are healthy. Vіn yshov kudis from the shovel on the shoulders, squalling and embarrassment. Speak vin not in a moment, calling after you with a gesture. The stinks went past the school, de Akimich, having worked as a watchman, went past the green onions, and in the ditch they sounded those who so embarrassed his friend. The whole was a lyalka with crushed eyes and torn hairs, and on the nose of the nose and there, earlier there were zirvan panties, there were dirks, burned with cigarettes.
Akimich nareshti zmіg say and rozpovіv that it is rich to know such abandoned fawns, but you can not calmly marvel at them. The stench of people is supposed to be guessed, but for the war of guilt at the human death, one was surprised. Angry Akimich, scho reshta baiduzhi - inspire future mothers, inspire readers. And children can not call to such pictures. Axis and taking the old hovati of such thrown lyalok, even already similar to children. Digging small graves for them, laying in a blue. "You can't bury the mustache" - such zіthannyam of the old will end the story.
Such a short zmist. Nosov's "Lyalka", regardless of a small commitment, sticks around even more important topics.
The topic of speech in the interview
What does the author want to convey to us with his short work? As it shows a short zmist, Nosov's "Lyalka" tells us how scary it is to become baid, to harden the soul. Stop bachiti the beauty of the navkolishnogo world and the inconsistencies that are created in the new. Old Akimich, having gone through the war, surprised at death, did not learn to speak. Tse showed up in a small way - it’s a pity to throw toys. Ale people, as if you can’t marvel at a vikinu lyalka, you don’t throw that other person in a fight.
Reading the rhyme, we involuntarily sing to Akimich himself - the old one, who went through the war, shell-shocked and selfish. Possibly, yogo concussion in the alleged may and the worst sensation: a person is trying to say - and can’t, and їy is deprived of the next move to guard for the bidas, but for himself that move needs to be corrected. I would like those who are in yoga power.
The theme of beauty in the description "Lyalka"
About what else do you think about a short essay? Nosov's "Lyalka" thrives on those beauty and harmony in the world. It’s not for nothing that the whole scene with lyalkoy looks on the aphids of the beauty of autumn nature, if everything in the world is flooded with bright farbs, and silence stands, and calmness. Nature has harmony, life has chaos. I people create their own chaos. Htos - zatіvayuchi war, and htos - just throwing a lyalka, what she came up with.
Eternal theme of a short essay
"Everything passes, but not everything is forgotten" - these words are read in rows, mute short zmist Є. Nosov "Lyalka". The war has ended - life goes with your blackness. The nayburkhlivishy and naglibshiy vir sooner overgrown with a mule. But don't forget about the terrible days of confessions, don't forget Akimich, when it's time to spend time talking. Nastav light - nature rose, and everything in it is miraculous. But all the same, they are still throwing deathly lyalkas - like in the moonlight of stunted rocks, if people’s bodies were thrown away and dead. People forget to appreciate the beauty of nature, forget to appreciate the light of the earth, forget about weather. Aje, everything starts from small things.
Create on topics:
- “A lyalka was lying near the roadside ditch. Makіv kolіr becoming for the mother of the dead son the eternal fire of the memory of the yaskrava, but not long...
Even a short retelling of E. I Nosov "Lyalka" TERMINOVO! Even a short retelling of E. I Nosov "Lyalka"
- A short essay on "Lyalka" Nosov Є. I.
Opovіdach describe if the river can be: ... And in the day and at night grumbling, gurgling and sobbing terrible whirlwinds, such as geese are unique. Well, at night, the virus and zovsim were not able to do it, if it was loud, hard to collapse on the coast of the Dmitry, or the lane on the water with a flat tail, nibi doshkoy, that the master of power rose from the yam.
Ale passed the sprat of fate. The riverbed resounded, bloomed, the clear pisky on the spins was dragged by the cocklebur and the zhorst belokopitnik, a lot of unknown miles and kis appeared. There were no deep tyagunivs-shvidkins, earlier in the evening they bored the surface of the river, bronzed the ide. Ninі all tse virazkove privіllya naїzhachilos kugoi and peaks of strіlolista, and everywhere, de scho still freely in the form of grasses, black donna tina, which made it good enough to be too kind, to be carried by the woods from the watering. There, where it twisted and twisted, a viper brudny siriy mitlyak humped like a great round riba. Marveling at the overgrown river, which ice oozed with calm water, Akimich vaguely looked:
І navit vodok do not rewind! Do not rub your soul ... Who is Akimich?
Mi with Akimich. fought in the same and the same humpbacked third army, took the fate of Bagration, at once liquidated the Bobruisk, and then the Minsk cauldrons, took the same Belarusian and Polish cities.
It wounded Akimich bloodlessly, but it’s important: a distant landmine filled up in the trenches and concussed him so that now, after ten years, having loosened up, having spent the gift of language in a rapt manner, the tongue of yogo nibi tightly wedged, and shamelessly wagging his lips with a tube.
Yakos, zustrіvshi yogo, opovіdach pomіtiv signs of supra-glossal hvilyuvannya. What was trapilos?
Akimich nodded his head in front of the school.
By the roadside ditch there was a lyalka lying around. Vaughn lay dormant, spreading her arms and legs. Great and still pretty in appearance, with light, ice marked by a smile on swollen, childlike lips. Ale, light shovkovist hair on the head was singed with mists, eyes were seen, and on the nose there was a tear, burned, maybe, with a cigarette. Htos zirvav z ne ї cloth, and blakitnі panties zirvav to the very cherevikov, and those places, as before, were curled up by them, tezh was a cigarette.
Akimich is sadly amazed at the little lyalka, over which one is so cynically and zhorstok znuschavsya.
Someone who has endured to the worst and does not fight, as if they themselves do worse. And from them the children are recruited. Z lalkoyu not the first drop. I'm waiting. and I bachu: here and there chi pіd parkan, at the smіtєvіy kupі vikinutі lyalki are lying around. Yaki is completely straight, at the cloth, with a bow at the hair, and buva, without a head, without both legs. So me unkind bachiti tse! Already the heart is clenched. B'є mee vsogo. And people walk upside down on their right, and nothing. Couples pass by, trembling by the hand, talking about the kohanny, about the children. Carrying little ones at the vіzkah does not lead an eyebrow. Children run chirping to such blasphemy. How so? ! Why do you learn, how beautiful, how good, how blind you are, your soul is deaf! . Ex…
Akimich was carrying the digger. Aje tse is like a human being.
Vіn huddled, zigbenno crossed the ditch and there, on the wasteland, around the corner of the school fence, beat the great burdock with leaves, similar to elephants' ears, digging a hole, namіtivshi її dovgastі contours in front. The growth of the lyalka was no more than a meter, but Akimich diligently and deeply dug, like a grave, dug up to the very waist.
Zrivnyavshi wall, vіn so very movchki and vіdchaydno going to the stack on the vigonі, brought the rims of sin and hung the bottom with yams. Then I straightened my panties on the lyalts, clasped my hands in the air of the coat and lowered them in the mud like that. Having covered the top with excess sleep, I took up the shovel again, less than the last. I raptom vin noisily sighed. and having washed with pain:
Don't bury usogo...
- On the cob of roses go tell about childishness. Description of the river, viru. Let's go ahead and tell about those who, like the main hero, found the transporter Akimich for the fishermen's right. They went on in rows "I don’t know why, having caught Akimich the ruler of Lipinois with yami, for that reason, for various reasons, I had a break, without becoming a traveler in that place. Only after a sprat of rocks I had a chance to see my old sit."
The author is not aware of the river, marveling at the edge of that yoga change. The great vir has changed into a milk-water. After a small speech about nature, I went on to talk about the war and the army. About the battles among those who have taken the fate of the main hero and Akimich. Rozpovіd about the concussion of the carrier.
After the war, the trail of an old friend was lost. The hero thinks that he is dead. Ale don't know. The stench streaked down the middle of the street. Yakimich became a famous name. The "rozmov" began. As a recognized author from a one-sided move, Akimich is now working at school. Passing through them at once, the hero is merciful with the beauty of nature. Love is shaved. Yaka screwed up old Akimich's respect.
A lyalka was lying near the roadside ditch. Vaughn was lying face to face with her arms and legs spread out. Great and still pretty in appearance, with light, ice marked by a smile on swollen, childlike lips. and dirka yawned on the nose, burned out, maybe with a cigarette. tezh Bulo wisnazhene with a cigarette. "
Akimich descends into a ditch and makes a "grave" for a lyalka. Relatively burrowing e. Then, standing up, we mutter:
- Don't bury usogo...I swear that I could help you.
Mikola Mikolayovich Nosov is also fond of describing the life of ordinary rural people, who are faced with such problems. Vіn having opened the skin of the person thoroughly and showing us all the positive and negative sides of the person.
The axis of whomever was informed before us stands the great service man Akimich. Vіn іde road and yоgo respect privertavі zlamana lyalka near the breeze. Showing us її, the author of the rose tells us to think about the purest and best way in life, that the lyalka is not just a toy here, to play with it, but then put it at the old box for the next generation, but for the separate people. Lyalka is not just evil, she is covered with cigarettes, her eyes are crushed, without her, her head is often hairy.
Akimich, having sighed and lifted, dares to greet him in the land like a person. Aja for a new baby is similar to a living life, you take it not like a river, but like you live that day. The akimich is given to us by a human being, that it is important to take human baptism, even if we have passed through the war, weed the shelter, weed that weeping. Vіn bachiv torment and knowledge of people, and you didn’t understand how and who needs to know about such a road to such people, I’ll tell. Yogo sentimentality and pity for the tsiєї lyalka zmushuє zaslititsya not only about the introduction to expensive speeches, but it’s just to people, to creatures and insane nature.
The problem of the use of natural resources is so self-represented by whomever is informed. Through the unbalance of people, they will get out and know. Hanging rivers, cutting down trees, driving in creatures. Zhorstokіst here is shown not only to the people, but to the native nature it is even more hostile.
Having read the rozpovid, ty rozumіesh, naskilki rozpovid is rude and merciless, and rozumієsh like a zhorstoy tsey light. Naskіlki all shvidkoplinno і not negotiable. About those, as if it were the right time to die and no one can do anything about it.
You begin to wonder about the correctness of your actions. Aje only for us virishuvati chi live according to conscience chi ni, do good, do it, or psuvati navkolishnіy svіt.
Dekіlka tsіkavih tvorіv
- The theme of freedom in Poem Mtsira
The successor of the famous Russian writer Pushkin Oleksandr Sergiyovich, who himself managed to achieve significant success with the Danish right, and so become famous and no less great, Lermontov Mikhailo Yuriyovich often did not succeed
- The image and characteristics of Vasily Egorovich Knyazev in the description Chudik Shukshin
Chudikov at that hour there were 39 years. Vіn hugged the projectionist's seat at the rural cinema. The nickname "Freak" was taken away by the main hero of the description through those who were trampled with him by various comedic vipadias, with which wines nothing could be done.
The weather is rather warm and sleepy. You can go to the river, near the open pool and swim there
You should know that the calendar winter is coming on the 1st day of the month, but it’s true that you can come there much earlier. The first snow sometimes falls at the Veresni, but the vine is Shvidko Tanya. Shchob vіn lіg, the soil is to blame for freezing.
Kozhen іz us vіdvіduv school. In some schoolchildren, there is one teacher in love, in others - another. Stable, invariable, one thing remains: a teacher, like before, necessary and unreplaceable.
Evgen Nosov - writer, laureate of the state prize named after. Gorky. He has a lot of creative work about the war, native land. In my opinion, "Lyalka" destroys the problem of spirituality, spiritual callousness of people. The short film "Lyalka" by Nosov, to help the reader, quickly learn about the creation of one's own visnovka.
Akimich
Tsya rozpovid maє two names - a friend - tse "Akimich". Why? To the very same wine is the main hero of creation. A short essay by Nosov "Lyalka" to get to know the reader from this people.
The investigation is carried out in the name of Yevgen Nosov himself. Vіn rozpovidaєtsya about his fighting comrade, with such a stink at once they fought at the rocks of the Great Vіtchiznyanoї war. The stench of Akimich at once took the fate of a number of military operations, the zocrema of Belarus and Poland. Ale once hurt one.
The concussion did not go unnoticed. Dosi, even though ten years have passed, if you are boasting, then you are talking, pale, locking and marveling with flour at the spy, and ruining with this joylessly writhe with a tube.
As if the stench came from Akimich to the shore, when the raging and fresh rivers sprang. Itself sudi to transfer the chitcha short zmist. Lyalka Nosova starts the scene with water. The pismennik rozpovidaє about those, what a hard boulder the river used to be. The channel was overgrown with grass, it sounded. Akimich marveled vaguely at the sight.
The axis of such a plot was foreseen in his own opinion. Nosov "Lalka". A short essay about an unacceptable drop.
Naruga over Lyalka
Yakos is the author of zustriv of his friend Akimich. That one, having looked at the other, will be smitten. Vin, pointing to the roadside ditch, lay the lyalka. Vaughn spread her legs and arms. Appearance Bulo, like before, pretty. Ale's eyes were squeezed in, and on the beautiful hair one could see spots of opium. The cloth was tattered, and the black panties were zirvani and the body was also a little opiki, it was a cigarette that was burning.
Akimich took the lyalka, stroking it and saying that it was not the first step. Vіn bachiv, scho may still lie on smіtniks, at kupakh smіtya. The axis is such a summable moment, giving the reader a short zmist. "Lyalka" Nosov zmushyu zamyslitsya about zhorstokі and cynіchnі vchinki.
Funeral of a baby doll
Yakimich rozpovіv, scho if vin bachit so, then yogo navit b'є. And people walk along the bayduzhe. To pass with the children, and no one will give respect to the abandoned and dead lyalok. Akimich of upevneniy, scho in the form of spiritual callousness and blindness.
The head hero boov is not like that. About cer rozpovidaє and short zmist. "Lyalka" Nosov to read the reader for goodness and nebaiduzhіst. Akimich took a shovel and found the ground, digging a grave. Digging wine diligently and conscientiously.
Lyalka bula was about a meter tall, but the head hero dug up a larger hole in the pit. Vіn brought sin, lowering Yogo into the clay, and even the beast on the new lyalka. Above tezh pripav її sіnom. Vіn correcting the clothes on the martyr and starting to bury. "Don't bury Usogo" - Akimich said in pain. Shvidshe for everything, vin mav on the uvaz people's baiduzhіst, callousness.
Rozpovid vchit good that spіvchuttya.