The sad demon spirit of exile flew. Mikhail Lermontov poem "Demon. Philosophical questions specific to the poem

Reading the verse "Demon" by Lermontov Mikhail Yuryevich will definitely appeal to all lovers of mystical works. It is filled with metaphors and other artistic devices. The image of evil spirits often appeared in the literature of that time. At the same time, God was considered the main tyrant. It was he who often demanded complete obedience from a person, dooming him to suffering and pain. One of the biblical legends dedicated to this tragedy was also taken by Lermontov as the basis for the plot. He worked on this poem for 12 years, creating a vivid image of the Demon, doomed to loneliness in this deserted and boring world.

Initially, when reading the work, one feels the poet's sympathy for his hero. Young Lermontov admired the desire of the Demon to resist, fight, overcome. Such impudence was quite combined with the maximalism of the author. The very fact of man's limitations in time and space was disgusting to him. Each of the characters of the poem is closed in his own secluded world. The text of Lermontov's poem "Demon" is the personification of the futility of confronting external factors. The love of the lyrical hero for Princess Tamara ends very sadly. The demon invites her to renounce everything familiar, to give freedom in its entirety. But the price of freedom is too high. The girl dies in the name of this love, plunging the Demon into complete despair - he is defeated.

The main philosophical issue raised in the work is the problem of doubt. Truth remains so until a person begins to subject it to skeptical reflections. In some things, really, you have to take a word, thoughtlessly, without fail. But as soon as the Demon penetrates the mind, sowing a seed of doubt in it, each belief becomes only a reason for disappointment. Using seemingly mystical stories, plots that Lermontov heard at different periods of his life, the poet revealed a huge philosophical thought that continues to impress new generations after many years. The reader involuntarily begins to evaluate his own beliefs, trying to find flaws in them. The Inner Demon sits in everyone and, sooner or later, he will find a way to communicate about himself. That is why these need to be taught in literature classes in high school. The work can be downloaded in full or read online on our website.

Eastern story

Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
I knew neither malice nor doubt,
And did not threaten his mind
Centuries of barren series of dull ...
And many, many ... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!
II

Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure,
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.
III

And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing reflected.
IV

And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
pillared rains,
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Densely crowned with ivy,
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And the stars are bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.
V

Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with a white veil 1,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.
VI

Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna 2 sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, look -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth, alive.
VII

I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.
VIII

She danced for the last time.
Alas! expected in the morning
Her, heiress of Gudal,
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brethren,
He turned away b - and sighed ...
IX

And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty!
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? - God did not give oblivion:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
………………………………………………………………
X

Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of Synodal,
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi 3 - she's all around
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; the fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.
XI

And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what's happened?..
Standing up on voiced 4 stirrups,
Pulling on the eyebrows dads, 5
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip click - and, like an eagle,
He rushed ... and shot again!
And a wild cry and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!
XII

Everything was quiet; huddled in a crowd,
On the corpses of riders sometimes
The camels looked on in horror;
And deaf in the silence of the steppe
Their bells rang.
A magnificent caravan was plundered;
And over the bodies of Christians
Draws circles night bird!
No peaceful tomb awaits them
Under a layer of monastic slabs,
Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;
Sisters with mothers will not come,
Covered with long veils
With longing, sobs and prayers,
To their coffin from distant places!
But with a diligent hand
Here by the road, over the rock
A cross will be erected in memory;
And the ivy that grew in the spring
He, caressing, will wrap around
With its emerald net;
And, having turned off the difficult road,
More than once a tired pedestrian
Rest under God's shadow...
XIII

The horse rushes faster than the deer,
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
I put my feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!
XIV

In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast ...
Alas! but never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..
XV

For a carefree family
God's punishment flew like thunder!
Fell on her bed
Sobs poor Tamara;
Tear after tear
The chest is high and difficult to breathe;
And now she seems to hear
Magical voice above you:
"Don't cry, child! don't cry in vain!
Your tear on a mute corpse
Living dew will not fall:
She only blurs her clear eyes,
Virgin cheeks burn!
He is far away, he does not know
Will not appreciate your anguish;
Heavenly light now caresses
The disembodied gaze of his eyes;
He hears heavenly tunes...
That life is petty dreams
And the groans and tears of the poor maiden
For a guest of the heavenly side?
No, the lot of mortal creation,
Believe me, my earthly angel,
Not worth a moment
Your sorrow dear!
On the ocean of air
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!
Only night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "
XVI

The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She jumps up and looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It wasn't an angel
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Read the poem in full:

Eastern story

Part I
I
Sad Demon, spirit of exile,
He flew over the sinful earth,
And better days of remembrance
A crowd crowded before him;
Those days when in the dwelling of light
He shone, a pure cherub,
When a running comet
A smile of affectionate greetings
Loved to trade with him
When through eternal fogs,
Greedy for knowledge, he followed
Nomadic caravans
In the space of abandoned luminaries;
When he believed and loved
Happy firstborn of creation!
I knew neither malice nor doubt,
And did not threaten his mind
Centuries of barren series of dull ...
And many, many ... and everything
He did not have the strength to remember!
II
Long outcast wandered
In the wilderness of a world without shelter:
After the century, the century fled,
Like a minute a minute
Uniform sequence.
Insignificant dominating the earth,
He sowed evil without pleasure.
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.
III
And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast, and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From the southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing was reflected.
IV
And in front of him is a different picture
Living colors bloomed:
Luxurious Georgia Valley
Carpet spread out in the distance;
Happy, lush end of the earth!
pillared rains,
Ringing running streams
Along the bottom of multi-colored stones,
And bushes of roses, where the nightingales
Sing beauties, unrequited
To the sweet voice of their love;
Chinar spreading canopy,
Densely crowned with ivy,
Caves where the scorching day
Timid deer lurk;
And shine, and life, and the noise of sheets,
Hundred-sounding voices,
The breath of a thousand plants!
And half a day voluptuous heat,
And fragrant dew
Always wet nights
And the stars are bright as eyes
Like the look of a young Georgian woman!..
But, apart from cold envy,
Nature did not excite the brilliance
In the exile's barren chest
No new feelings, no new forces;
And all that he saw before him
He despised or hated.
V
Tall house, wide yard
Gray-haired Gudal built himself ...
Works and tears, he cost a lot
Slaves obedient for a long time.
In the morning on the slope of neighboring mountains
Shadows cast from its walls.
Steps are cut into the rock;
They are from the corner tower
They lead to the river, flickering along them,
Covered with a white veil,
Princess Tamara young
He goes to Aragva for water.
VI
Always silent on the valleys
I looked from the cliff a gloomy house;
But there is a big feast in it today -
Zurna sounds, and guilt pours -
Gudal betrothed his daughter,
He called the whole family to the feast.
On the carpeted roof
The bride sits between her friends:
Among games and songs their leisure
Passes. distant mountains
The semicircle of the sun is already hidden;
Striking in the palm of your hand,
They sing - and their tambourine
The young bride takes.
And here she is, with one hand
Circling it over your head
Then suddenly it rushes lighter than a bird,
It will stop, - looks -
And her wet eyes shine
From under an envious eyelash;
That will lead with a black eyebrow,
Then suddenly it leans a little,
And glides on the carpet, floats
Her divine foot;
And she smiles
Full of children's fun.
But a ray of the moon, in unsteady moisture
Slightly playing at times
Hardly compares to that smile
Like life, like youth is alive.
VII
I swear by the midnight star
Beam of sunset and east,
Ruler of Persia golden
And not a single king of the earth
I did not kiss such an eye;
Harem Sprinkling Fountain
Never hot sometimes
With its pearly dew
I did not wash such a camp!
Still no one's earthly hand,
Wandering over the sweet brow,
She did not unravel such hair;
Since the world lost paradise
I swear she's such a beauty
Under the sun of the south did not bloom.
VIII
She danced for the last time.
Alas! In the morning I expected
Her, heiress of Gudal,
Freedom frisky child
The fate of the sad slave
Fatherland, alien to this day,
And an unknown family.
And often secret doubt
Dark light features;
And all her movements were
So slender, full of expression,
So full of sweet simplicity
What if the Demon, flying,
At that time he looked at her
Then, remembering the former brothers,
He turned away b - and sighed ...
IX
And the Demon saw... For a moment
inexplicable excitement
He suddenly felt in himself.
The dumb soul of his desert
Filled with blessed sound -
And again he comprehended the shrine
Love, kindness and beauty! ..
And long sweet picture
He admired - and dreams
About the former happiness with a long chain,
Like a star behind a star
They rolled before him then.
Bound by an invisible force
He became familiar with the new sadness;
A feeling suddenly spoke in him
once native language.
Was that a sign of rebirth?
He is the words of insidious temptation
I couldn't find it in my mind...
Forget? - God did not give oblivion:
Yes, he would not take oblivion! ..
………………
X
Having exhausted a good horse,
To the wedding feast at sunset
The impatient groom hurried.
Aragva light he happily
Reached the green shores.
Under the heavy burden of gifts
Barely, barely crossing
Behind him camels a long line
The road stretches, flickering:
Their bells are ringing.
He himself, the ruler of Synodal,
Leading a rich caravan.
A dexterous camp is tightened with a belt;
Saber and dagger frame
Shines in the sun; behind the back
The gun with notch notch.
The wind plays with its sleeves
His chuhi, she is all around
All trimmed with galloon.
Colored embroidered silk
His saddle; bridle with brushes;
Under it, a dashing horse covered in soap
Priceless suit, golden.
Pet frisky Karabakh
It spins with ears and, full of fear,
Snoring squints with steepness
On the foam of a galloping wave.
Dangerous, narrow is the coastal path!
Cliffs on the left side
To the right is the depth of the rebellious river.
It's too late. At the top of the snow
The blush fades; the fog came up...
The caravan stepped up.
XI
And here is the chapel on the road...
Here for a long time rests in God
Some prince, now a saint,
Killed by a vengeful hand.
Since then, for a holiday or for a battle,
Wherever the traveler hurries,
Always fervent prayer
He brought at the chapel;
And that prayer saved
From a Muslim dagger.
But the daring groom despised
The custom of their great-grandfathers.
His insidious dream
The crafty Demon was indignant:
He is in my thoughts, under the darkness of the night,
Kissed the lips of the bride.
Suddenly, two people flashed ahead,
And more - a shot! - what's happened?..
Standing up on ringing stirrups,
Pulling dads on his eyebrows,
The brave prince did not say a word;
A Turkish trunk flashed in his hand,
Whip click - and, like an eagle,
He rushed ... and shot again!
And a wild cry, and a deaf moan
Rushed into the depths of the valley -
The battle did not last long:
The timid Georgians fled!
XII
Everything is quiet; huddled in a crowd,
On the corpses of riders sometimes
The camels looked on in horror;
And deaf in the silence of the steppe
Their bells rang.
A magnificent caravan was plundered;
And over the bodies of Christians
Draws circles night bird!
No peaceful tomb awaits them
Under a layer of monastic slabs,
Where the ashes of their fathers were buried;
Sisters with mothers will not come,
Covered with long veils
With longing, sobs and prayers,
To their coffin from distant places!
But with a diligent hand
Here by the road, over the rock
A cross will be erected in memory;
And the ivy that grew in the spring
He, caressing, will wrap around
With its emerald net;
And, having turned off the difficult road,
More than once a tired pedestrian
Rest under God's shadow...
XIII
The horse rushes faster than the deer,
Snoring and torn, as if to scold;
Then suddenly besiege at a gallop,
Listens to the wind
Widely flaring nostrils;
That, at once hitting the ground
With thorns of sonorous hooves,
Waving his tousled mane,
It flies forward without memory.
It has a silent rider!
He beats on the saddle sometimes,
Leaning on the mane with his head.
He no longer rules the occasions
I put my feet in the stirrups,
And blood in wide streams
You can see him on the saddle.
Dashing horse, you are the master
Brought out of the battle like an arrow
But an evil Ossetian bullet
Caught him in the dark!
XIV
In the Gudala family weeping and groaning,
People are crowding in the yard:
Whose horse rushed on fire
And fell on the stones at the gate?
Who is this breathless rider?
Kept a trail of swearing anxiety
Wrinkles of a swarthy brow.
In the blood of weapons and dress;
In the last frenzied shake
The hand on the mane froze.
Not for long the young groom,
Bride, your gaze was waiting:
He kept the prince's word,
He rode to the wedding feast ...
Alas! But never again
Do not sit on a dashing horse! ..
XV
For a carefree family
Like thunder, God's punishment has flown!
Fell on her bed
Sobs poor Tamara;
Tear after tear
The chest is high and difficult to breathe;
And now she seems to hear
Magical voice above you:
"Don't cry, child! Don't cry in vain!
Your tear on a mute corpse
Living dew will not fall:
She only blurs her clear eyes,
Virgin cheeks burn!
He is far away, he does not know
Will not appreciate your anguish;
Heavenly light now caresses
The disembodied gaze of his eyes;
He hears heavenly tunes...
That life is petty dreams
And the groan and tears of the poor maiden
For a guest of the heavenly side?
No, the lot of mortal creation,
Believe me, my earthly angel,
Not worth a moment
Your sorrow dear!
"On the ocean of air,
No rudder and no sails
Quietly floating in the fog
Choirs of slender luminaries;
Among the boundless fields
Walking in the sky without a trace
Clouds elusive
Fibrous herds.
The hour of parting, the hour of goodbye -
They neither joy nor sorrow;
They have no desire in the future
And don't feel sorry for the past.
On the day of agonizing misfortune
You only remember them;
Be to the earth without participation
And as careless as they are!
"Only the night with its cover
The tops of the Caucasus will overshadow
Only the world, with a magic word
Bewitched, shut up;
Only the wind over the rock
Will move the withered grass,
And the bird hidden in it
Flutters more cheerfully in the darkness;
And under the vine,
Dew of heaven swallowing greedily,
The flower will bloom at night;
Only a golden month
From behind the mountain will quietly rise
And steal a glance at you,
I will fly to you;
I will stay until morning
And silk eyelashes
Dreams of gold evoke ... "
XVI
The words fell silent in the distance
After the sound, the sound died.
She looks around...
Unspeakable confusion
In her chest; sadness, fear,
Rapture ardor - nothing in comparison.
All the feelings in her boiled suddenly;
The soul tore its shackles,
Fire ran through my veins
And this voice is wonderfully new,
She thought it still sounded.
And before the morning dream is desired
Tired eyes closed;
But he revolted her thought
A prophetic and strange dream.
The stranger is foggy and mute,
Beauty shining unearthly,
He bowed to her headboard;
And his gaze with such love,
Looked at her so sadly
As if he regretted it.
It wasn't an angel
Her divine guardian:
Crown of Rainbow Beams
Did not decorate his curls.
That was not hell, a terrible spirit,
Vicious martyr - oh no!
It looked like a clear evening:
Neither day nor night, neither darkness nor light!

Part II
I
"Father, father, leave threats,
Do not scold your own Tamara;
I cry: you see these tears,
They are not the first.
In vain the suitors crowd
Hurry here from distant places ...
There are many brides in Georgia;
And I can't be anyone's wife!
Oh, don't scold me, father.
You yourself noticed: day by day
I wither, the victim of an evil poison!
I'm tormented by the evil spirit
Irresistible dream;
I'm dying, have pity on me!
Give to the sacred abode
Your reckless daughter;
There the Savior will protect me,
I will shed my anguish before him.
I have no fun in the world...
Shrines of the world of autumn,
Let the gloomy cell accept
Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "
II
And in a secluded monastery
Her family took
And a humble sackcloth
They clothed the young breast.
But also in monastic clothes,
As under a patterned brocade,
All a lawless dream
Her heart was beating like before.
Before the altar, by the light of candles,
In the hours of solemn singing,
Familiar, among prayers,
She often heard speech.
Under the dome of the gloomy temple
A familiar image sometimes
Gliding without a sound or a trace
In a mist of light incense;
He shone softly like a star;
He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..
III
In the cool between two hills
The holy monastery hid.
Chinar and poplars in rows
He was surrounded - and sometimes,
When the night lay down in the gorges,
Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,
The lamp of the young sinner.
All around, in the shade of almond trees,
Where a row stands sad crosses,
Silent guardians of the tombs,
Choirs of light birds sang.
They jumped on the stones, made noise
Keys in a cold wave
And under the overhanging rock
Merging friendly in the gorge,
Rolled on, between the bushes,
Frosted flowers.
IV
Mountains were visible to the north.
At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,
When the blue smoke
Smoking deep in the valley
And turning to the east
Muetzins are calling to prayer,
And the sonorous voice of the bell
Trembling, awakening the abode;
In a solemn and peaceful hour,
When a Georgian is young
With a long jug for water
The steep descends from the mountain,
Snow chain tops
light purple wall
On the clear skies were drawn
And dressed at sunset
They are a ruddy veil;
And between them, cutting through the clouds,
He stood, all above his head,
Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,
In a turban and a brocade chasuble.
V
But, full of criminal thoughts,
Tamara's heart is unavailable
Pure delight. in front of her
The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;
And everything in it is an excuse for torment -
And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.
There were only sleepy nights
Coolness will cover the earth,
Before the divine icon
She falls into madness
And cries; and in the silence of the night
Her heavy sobbing
The traveler's attention worries;
And he thinks: “That is a mountain spirit,
Chained in a cave, groaning!”
And, sensitively straining your ears,
Drives a tired horse...
VI
Full of longing and trembling,
Tamara is often at the window
Sitting alone in thought
And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,
And the whole day, sighing, waiting ...
Someone whispers to her: he will come!
No wonder her dreams caressed,
No wonder he appeared to her,
With eyes full of sadness
And wonderful tenderness of speeches.
For many days she languishes,
She doesn't know why;
Does he want to pray to the saints -
And the heart prays to him;
Tired of the constant struggle
Will he bow down on the bed of sleep:
The pillow burns, she is stuffy, scared,
And all, jumping up, she trembles;
Her chest and shoulders are burning,
No strength to breathe, fog in the eyes,
Embrace eagerly looking for a meeting,
Kisses melt on the lips ...
………………
………………
VII
Evening haze airy cover
Already dressed the hills of Georgia.
Habit sweet obedient,
The Demon flew to the monastery.
But for a long, long time he did not dare
Shrine of Peaceful Shelter
Violate. And there was a minute
When he seemed ready
Leave intent cruel.
Thoughtful, against the high wall
He wanders: from his steps
Without wind, a leaf trembles in the shade.
He looked up: her window,
Illuminated by a lamp, shines;
She's been waiting for someone!
And in the midst of the general silence
Chingura slender rattling
And the sounds of the song resounded;
And those sounds flowed, flowed,
Like tears, measured one after another;
And this song was tender
As if for the earth she
Was stacked in the sky!
Is it an angel with a forgotten friend
I wanted to see you again
Stealthily flew here
And he sang about the past,
To alleviate his pain?
The anguish of love, its excitement
Comprehended the Demon for the first time;
He wants to leave in fear ...
His wing doesn't move!
And, miracle! From faded eyes
A heavy tear rolls down...
Until now near that cell
Through the burnt stone is visible
Tears hot as a flame
Inhuman tear!..
VIII
And he enters, ready to love,
With a heart open to goodness,
And he thinks that a new life
The desired time has come.
A vague thrill of anticipation
Silent fear of the unknown
Like a first date
Confessed with a proud soul.
That was an evil omen!
He enters, looks - in front of him
Messenger of heaven, cherub,
Guardian of the beautiful sinner,
Standing with a shining brow
And from the enemy with a clear smile
He painted her with a wing;
And a ray of divine light
Suddenly blinded by an unclean gaze,
And instead of a sweet hello
There was a heavy reproach:
IX
"The spirit is restless, the spirit is vicious,
Who called you in the midnight darkness?
Your fans are not here
Evil has not breathed here until now;
To my love, to my shrine
Do not lay a criminal trail.
Who called you? In response to him
The evil spirit chuckled slyly;
His eyes flushed with jealousy;
And again in his soul woke up
Poison of ancient hatred.
"She is mine! he said sternly,
Leave her, she's mine!
You, protector, appeared late,
And she, like me, you're not a judge.
With a heart full of pride
I have set my seal;
Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!”
And the angel with sad eyes
Looked at the poor victim
And slowly flapping your wings
I drowned in the ether of the sky.
………………
X
Tamara
ABOUT! Who are you? Your speech is dangerous!
Did hell or heaven send you to me?
What do you want?..
Daemon
You're beautiful!
Tamara
But say who are you? Answer...
Daemon
I am the one who listened
You are in the midnight silence
Whose thought whispered to your soul,
Whose sadness did you vaguely guess,
Whose image I saw in a dream.
I am the one whose gaze destroys hope;
I am the one no one loves;
I am the scourge of my earthly slaves,
I am the king of knowledge and freedom,
I am the enemy of heaven, I am the evil of nature,
And, you see, I am at your feet!
I brought you tenderness
Silent love prayer
Earthly first torment
And my first tears.
ABOUT! Listen - out of regret!
Me good and heaven
You could return with a word.
Your love with a holy cover
Dressed, I would appear there
Like a new angel in a new brilliance;
ABOUT! Just listen, please,
I am your servant - I love you!
As soon as I saw you
And secretly suddenly hated
Immortality and my power.
I envied involuntarily
Incomplete earthly joy;
Not to live like you, it hurt me
And it's scary - it's different to live with you.
In a bloodless heart, an unexpected ray
Warmed up again,
And sadness at the bottom of an old wound
She moved like a snake.
What is this eternity without you?
My dominion is infinity?
Empty sounding words
A vast temple - without a deity!
Tamara
Leave me, O evil spirit!
Shut up, I don't trust the enemy...
Creator… Alas! I cant
Pray... deadly poison
My weakening mind is embraced!
Listen, you will ruin me;
Your words are fire and poison...
Tell me why you love me!
Daemon
Why, beauty? Alas,
I don't know!.. Full of new life,
From my criminal head
I proudly took off the crown of thorns,
I threw all the past into dust:
My heaven, my hell in your eyes.
I love you with an unearthly passion,
How can you not love
With all rapture, with all power
Immortal thoughts and dreams.
In my soul, from the beginning of the world,
Your image has been imprinted
He hovered in front of me
In the deserts of eternal ether.
For a long time disturbing my thought,
The name sounded sweet to me;
In the days of bliss me in paradise
You were missing one.
ABOUT! If you could understand
What a bitter languor
All my life, centuries without separation
And enjoy and suffer
Do not expect praise for evil
No reward for good;
Live for yourself, miss yourself
And this eternal struggle
No celebration, no reconciliation!
Always regret and not wish
Know everything, feel everything, see everything,
Try to hate everything
And despise everything in the world! ..
Only God's curse
Fulfilled from the same day
Nature's hot embrace
Forever cool for me;
The space was blue before me;
I saw the wedding dress
Lights, familiar to me for a long time ...
They flowed in crowns of gold;
But what? former brother
None recognized.
Exiles like themselves
I began to call in desperation,
But words and faces and evil eyes,
Alas! I didn't recognize myself.
And in fear I, flapping my wings,
Rushed - but where? What for?
I don't know... old friends
I was rejected; like Eden
The world has become deaf and dumb for me.
At the free whim of the current
So damaged rook
No sails and no rudder
Floats, not knowing the destination;
So early in the morning
A fragment of a thundercloud,
In the azure height blackening,
Alone, not daring to stick anywhere,
Flies without a goal and a trace,
God knows where and where!
And I ruled people for a short time,
Taught them sin for a short time,
All noble dishonored
And he blasphemed everything beautiful;
Not for long... the flame of pure faith
Easily forever I poured into them ...
But were my labors worth it?
Only fools and hypocrites?
And I hid in the gorges of the mountains;
And began to wander like a meteor,
In the deep darkness of midnight...
And the lonely traveler rushed,
Deceived by a close flame;
And falling into the abyss with a horse,
Called in vain - and the trail is bloody
Behind him twisted along the steepness ...
But malice is gloomy fun
I didn't like it for long!
In the fight against a mighty hurricane,
How often, raising the ashes,
Dressed in lightning and mist,
I ran noisily in the clouds,
So that in the crowd of rebellious elements
Silence the murmur of the heart,
Save yourself from the inevitable thought
And forget the unforgettable!
What a tale of painful deprivation,
The labors and troubles of the human crowd
For generations to come, past generations
Before one minute
My unacknowledged torment?
What people? What is their life and work?
They have passed, they will pass...
There is hope - the right court awaits:
He can forgive, even condemn!
My sadness is always here
And there will be no end to her, like me;
And do not take a nap in her grave!
She fawns like a snake
It burns and splashes like a flame,
It crushes my thought like a stone -
Hopes of the dead and passions
Invincible mausoleum!
[Tamara
Why should I know your sorrows
Why are you complaining to me?
You have sinned...
Daemon
Is it against you?
Tamara
We can be heard!
Daemon
We are alone.
Tamara
And God!
Daemon
They don't look at us:
He is busy with heaven, not earth!
Tamara
And the punishment, the torment of hell?
Daemon
So what? You will be there with me!
Tamara
Whoever you are, my random friend,
Lost peace forever
Involuntarily, with the joy of mystery,
Sufferer, I hear you.
But if your speech is sly,
But if you're a deceit...
ABOUT! Have mercy! What glory?
What is my soul to you?
Am I dearer to the sky
Everyone you didn't see?
They, alas! Beautiful too;
Like here, their virgin bed
Not crumpled by a mortal hand...
Not! Give me a fatal oath ...
Tell me - you see: I yearn;
You see women's dreams!
You involuntarily caress the fear in your soul ...
But you understood everything, you know everything -
And, of course, you will take pity!
Swear to me ... from evil possessions
Renounce now vow.
Really no oaths, no promises
Are there no more invincibles? ..
Daemon
I swear on the first day of creation
I swear on his last day
I swear on the shame of crime
And eternal truth triumph.
I swear to fall by bitter flour,
Victory by a short dream;
I swear on a date with you
And again threatening separation.
I swear by the host of spirits,
The fate of the brothers subject to me,
With swords of impassive angels,
My unsleeping enemies;
I swear by heaven and hell
Earthly shrine and you
I swear by your last look
Your first tear
Your gentle lips with breath,
A wave of silk curls
I swear by bliss and suffering,
I swear on my love:
I renounced the old revenge
I renounced proud thoughts;
From now on, the poison of insidious flattery
Nothing disturbs the mind;
I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray
I want to believe good.
Wipe away with a tear of repentance
I am on a forehead worthy of you,
Traces of heavenly fire -
And the world in ignorance is calm
Let it bloom without me!
ABOUT! Believe me: I'm alone now
You comprehended and appreciated:
Choosing you as my shrine
I have placed power at your feet.
I'm waiting for your love as a gift
And I will give you eternity in a moment;
In love, as in malice, believe, Tamara,
I am immutable and great.
I am you, free son of ether,
I'll take it to the superstellar regions;
And you will be the queen of the world
My first friend
Without regret, without participation
You will look at the ground
Where there is no true happiness
No lasting beauty
Where there are only crimes and executions,
Where petty passions only live;
Where they do not know how without fear
Neither hate nor love.
Do you not know what is
People momentary love?
The excitement of the blood is young, -
But the days run and the blood runs cold!
Who can resist separation
The temptation of a new beauty
Against fatigue and boredom
And the willfulness of dreams?
Not! Not for you my friend
Find out, appointed by fate
Wither silently in a tight circle
Jealous rudeness slave,
Among the cowardly and cold,
False friends and enemies
Fear and fruitless hopes,
Empty and painful labors!
Sad behind the high wall
You will not die without passions,
Among the prayers, equally far
From god and people.
Oh no, beautiful creature
You are assigned to something else;
Other suffering awaits you
Other delights depth;
Leave your old desires
And the miserable light of his fate:
The abyss of proud knowledge
In return, I will open it for you.
A crowd of my office spirits
I will bring you to your feet;
Handmaidens of light and magical
To you, beauty, I will give;
And for you from the eastern star
I will pluck a golden crown;
I'll take the midnight dew from the flowers;
I will put him to sleep with that dew;
A beam of ruddy sunset
Your camp, like a ribbon, I will wrap,
With a breath of pure fragrance
I will drink the surrounding air;
All the time wonderful game
I will cherish your hearing;
I will build magnificent halls
From turquoise and amber;
I will sink to the bottom of the sea
I will fly beyond the clouds
I will give you everything, everything earthly -
Love me!..
XI
And he's a little
Touched with hot lips
Her trembling lips;
Temptation full speeches
He answered her prayers.
A mighty gaze gazed into her eyes!
He burned her. In the darkness of the night
Above her, he sparkled,
Irresistible as a dagger
Alas! The evil spirit triumphed!
The deadly poison of his kiss
Instantly penetrated into her chest.
Anguished, terrible scream
Night revolted the silence.
It was everything: love, suffering,
Rebuke with a last plea
And a hopeless goodbye
Farewell to young life.
XII
At that time the midnight watchman
One around the wall is steep
Quietly making the appointed path,
Wandered with a cast-iron board,
And near the cell of the young virgin
He tamed his measured step
And a hand over a cast iron board,
Confused, he stopped.
And through the surrounding silence,
He thought he heard
Two mouths consonant kiss,
A momentary cry and a faint moan.
And unholy doubt
Penetrated into the heart of the old man ...
But another moment passed
And everything was quiet; from afar
Just a breath of wind
The murmuring of the leaves brought
Yes, with a dark coast sadly
The mountain river whispered.
Saint's saint's canon
He hurries to read in fear,
So that the obsession of an evil spirit
Drive away from sinful thought;
Crosses with trembling fingers
Dream agitated chest
And silently, with quick steps
The regular one continues on.
………………
XIII
Like a peri sleeping sweetheart
She lay in her coffin
Whiter and cleaner bedspreads
There was a languid color of her brow.
Forever lowered eyelashes ...
But who would, oh heaven! Didn't say
That the gaze below them only dozed
And, wonderful, just expected
Or a kiss or a daylight?
But it's useless daylight beam
Sliding over them with a golden stream,
In vain they are in mute sadness
Mouths of relatives kissed ...
Not! Death eternal seal
Nothing can break it!
XIV
Never been in the days of fun
So colorful and rich
Tamara's festive outfit.
Flowers of the native gorge
(So the ancient requires the rite)
They pour their fragrance over her
And, clenched by a dead hand,
How to say goodbye to the earth!
And nothing in her face
Didn't hint at the end
In the heat of passion and ecstasy;
And were all her features
Filled with that beauty
Like marble, alien to expression,
Deprived of feeling and mind,
Mysterious as death itself.
A strange smile froze
Flickering across her lips.
Talked about a lot of sad things
She attentive eyes:
There was cold contempt in her
Soul ready to bloom
The last thought expression,
Forgive the soundless earth.
A vain reflection of the life of the past,
She was even deader
Still more hopeless for the heart
Forever faded eyes.
So at the hour of the solemn sunset,
When, melted in a sea of gold,
The chariot of the day has already disappeared,
Snow of the Caucasus, for a moment
The tide is ruddy,
They shine in the dark distance.
But this beam is half alive
In the desert it will not meet a reflection;
And it won't light anyone's path
From its icy peak!..
XV
A crowd of neighbors and relatives
Already gathered in a sad way.
Tormenting gray curls,
Silently hitting the chest
Goodal sits down for the last time
On a white-maned horse
And the train started moving. Three days,
Three nights their journey will last:
Between the old grandfather's bones
The shelter of the deceased was dug for her.
One of the forefathers of Gudal,
Robber of wanderers and villages,
When sickness took hold of him
And the hour of repentance has come
Sins past in redemption
He promised to build a church
On top of the granite rocks
Where only blizzards hear singing,
Where only the kite flew.
And soon between the snows of Kazbek
A lonely temple has risen
And the bones of an evil man
We calmed down there again;
And turned into a graveyard
Rock native to the clouds:
Like closer to heaven
Warmer posthumous dwelling? ..
As if further from people
The last dream will not be indignant ...
In vain! The dead won't dream
No sadness, no joy of the past days.
XVI
In the space of blue ether
One of the angels of the saints
Flying on golden wings
And a sinful soul from the world
He carried in his arms.
And sweet speech of hope
Dispelled her doubts
And a trace of misconduct and suffering
He washed away her tears.
From afar the sounds of paradise
They reached them - when suddenly,
Free path crossing,
An infernal spirit rose up from the abyss.
He was powerful, like a noisy whirlwind,
Shined like lightning,
And proudly in insane insolence
He says: "She's mine!"
She clung to her protective chest,
Prayer drowned out the horror,
Tamara is a sinful soul.
The fate of the future was decided
Again he stood before her,
But, God! - who would recognize him?
With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.
Disappear, dark spirit of doubt! -
The heavenly messenger replied:
You have triumphed enough;
But now the hour of judgment has come -
And God's decision!
The days of testing are over;
With the clothes of the mortal earth
The shackles of evil fell from her.
Find out! We have been waiting for her for a long time!
Her soul was one of those
Whose life is one moment
unbearable pain,
Unattainable pleasures:
Creator from the best ether
Weaved their living strings,
They are not made for the world
And the world was not created for them!
Redeemed at the price of cruel
She has her doubts...
She suffered and loved -
And heaven opened for love!”
And the angel with stern eyes
Looked at the tempter
And with joyful flapping of wings,
I drowned in the radiance of the sky.
And cursed Demon defeated
Your crazy dreams
And again he remained, arrogant,
Alone, as before, in the universe
Without hope and love!
* * *
On the slope of a stone mountain
Above the Koishaur valley
Still standing to this day
The teeth are the ruins of an old one.
Stories scary for children
There are still stories about them...
Like a ghost, a silent monument,
Witness those magical days
Blackens between the trees.
The aul crumbled below,
The earth blossoms and turns green;
And voices discordant rumble
Gets lost and caravans
They go ringing from afar,
And, plunging through the mists,
The river sparkles and foams.
And life forever young
Coolness, sun and spring
Nature is joking,
Like a carefree child.
But sad is the castle that has served
Once in your turn.
Like a poor old man who survived
Friends and lovely family.
And just waiting for the moon to rise
Its invisible inhabitants:
Then they have a holiday and freedom!
Buzzing, running in all directions.
Gray-haired spider, new hermit,
Spins the webs of its warp;
Green lizard family
Plays merrily on the roof;
And a wary snake
Creeps out of a dark hole
On the slab of the old porch,
Then suddenly it will fit into three rings,
That will lie in a long strip
And shines like a damask sword,
Forgotten in the field of old sich,
Unnecessary to the fallen hero!..
Everything is wild; there are no traces anywhere
Years gone by: the hand of the ages
Diligently, swept them away for a long time,
And don't remember anything
About the glorious name of Gudala,
Oh, his dear daughter!
But the church is on a steep peak,
Where are the bones taken by their earth,
We keep the power of the saint,
It is still visible between the clouds.
And at her gate stand
On guard are black granites,
Covered with cloaks of snow;
And on their chest instead of armor
The eternal ice is burning.
Falls sleepy bulks
From the ledges, like waterfalls,
Frost seized suddenly
Hang frowning around.
And there the blizzard walks on patrol,
Blowing dust off gray walls
That song starts a long one,
That calls out to sentries;
Hearing news in the distance
About a wonderful temple, in that country,
There are only clouds from the east
The crowd rush to worship;
But over a family of tombstones
Nobody is sad for a long time.
Rock of the gloomy Kazbek
Prey greedily guards,
And the eternal murmur of man
Their eternal peace will not disturb.

Pillar-shaped rains - pyramidal poplars.

Cover. (Note by Lermontov).

Like bagpipes. (Note by Lermontov).

Outerwear with folding sleeves. (Note by Lermontov).

Georgians have stirrups, like shoes made of ringing metal (Note by Lermontov).

A hat, like a Yerivanka. (Note by Lermontov).

Muetzins (muezzins, muezzins) are the ministers of the religious cult among Muslims, calling from the minaret to prayer.

Here Lermontov reflected the folk Georgian and Ossetian legends about the mountain spirit Amirani, who, like Prometheus, brought fire from the sky.

Chingar, a kind of guitar. (Note by Lermontov).

During the life of Lermontov, the poem was not published, but it became quite widespread due to the many lists. They went back to various editions of the poem and were sometimes artificially combined by scribes. No autograph or authorized copies of the last edition of The Demon have survived.

Therefore, for a long time, questions of the text and dating of the poem caused difficulty: its completion most often referred to 1841.

It has now been documented that Lermontov completed work on The Demon at the beginning of 1839 (no later than February 8) and that the copy that has come down to us, made by a relative of the poet A. I. Filosofov, accurately reproduces the autograph of this edition (see about this : E. E. Naiditsch, Latest edition of The Demon, Russian Lit., 1971, No. 1, pp. 72–78).

It was also found out that on March 10, 1839, the manuscript of The Demon received censorship permission, but for some reason the poem was not published (Vatsuro V.E. To the censored history of the Demon - In the book: Lermontov. Research and materials. L., 1979, pp. 410–414).

For the first time, excerpts from The Demon were published in Otechestvennye Zapiski (1842, No. 6, sec. I, pp. 187–201) according to a list made by V. G. Belinsky himself and representing a combination of texts from two editions (September 8, 1838 and last). However, this time even the publication of excerpts took place with great censorship difficulties.

In the same year, The Demon was printed in Berlin, and in 1857 again in Karlsruhe. However, both of these editions were significantly inferior to the first philosophical publication in terms of text.

In Russia, The Demon (in the latest edition) was completely printed in 1860 (collected works of Lermontov, edited by Dudyshkin, vol. 1, pp. 7–50; with some inaccuracies).

Lermontov began writing the poem at the age of fourteen and returned to it throughout his life. Despite numerous alterations, the first line - "The Sad Demon, the spirit of exile", which arose in 1829, was preserved in the final version.

The first draft of 1829 contained only 92 verses and a brief prose summary of the content (see p. 437), which conveys the plot of all early editions. By the beginning of 1830, the second edition, which concluded the already completed sketch of The Demon, dates back. In subsequent III (1831) and V editions (1832–1833)

Lermontov gradually develops the image of the Demon and the nun, somewhat expands the descriptive elements, improves the verse. In fact, all three of these completed youth editions are variants of one. However, between the transitions from editorial to editorial, Lermontov had other ideas related to the same hero. So, shortly before the creation of the third edition, he wrote: "Memor: write a long satirical poem: the adventures of a demon" (1831).

In the same year, Lermontov sketched out seven stanzas of the so-called IV edition, written in a different size.

By 1832, there is a recording of a plot that Lermontov did not carry out: “Demon. Plot. During the captivity of the Jews in Babylon (from the Bible). Jewish; father is blind; he sees her sleeping for the first time. Then she sings to her father about antiquity and about the proximity of an angel; and so on. like before. Jews are returning to their homeland - her grave remains in a foreign land” (see present edition, vol. 4).

Work on the early editions was largely completed in early 1833.
In 1834, some abbreviations were made in the text of the 5th edition (1833-1834), reflected in an authorized copy made by the hand of Lermontov's friend A.P. Shan-Giray. In addition, one of the lists (by R. V. Zotov) contains an interesting addition that begins with the words “Fragments of the old generations” (see p. 486).

In early editions, Lermontov failed to achieve artistic integrity and persuasiveness. The poem had an abstract philosophical character, the action unfolded in a conditional setting, the images of the heroes, especially the nuns, were not individualized, the central image was consciously correlated with the lyrical hero (“Like my demon, I am the chosen one of evil”).

A fundamentally new stage in the work on the poem is the editions created by the poet after returning from the Caucasus.

Mature editions of "The Demon" are distinguished by greater ideological depth, symbolic versatility, concreteness of the image, the psychological development of the images of the main characters, and unattainable heights in the depiction of pictures of nature. From editorial to editorial, the objective manner of narration is intensifying, turning The Demon into oriental tale”, saturated with folklore motifs, depicting Georgian feudal life.

There is also a significant change in the plot. In the period between the early and late editions, Lermontov created "Masquerade", where the demonic hero also tried to escape from the world of evil through love.

The murder of Nina was both a manifestation of Arbenin's evil will and the result of a chain of circumstances reflecting an unjust world order. In this sense, one should understand the words of Arbenin "I'm not her killer."

Tamara's death in the later editions of the poem is not the fault of the protagonist, but as a result of the law of the universe established by God: contact with the Demon brings death.

For the first time, the action of the poem is associated with the people and nature of the Caucasus in the so-called Yerevan edition, written by Lermontov shortly after returning from Georgia in the first half of 1838. copies with the date September 8, 1838. This manuscript was donated by V. A. Lopukhina and accompanied by a dedication (“I finished - and involuntarily doubt in my chest!”).

Here appeared the famous poems “On the ocean of air” (in the “Yerevan” list, this monologue was written in a different size: “Look at the wide vault of heaven”). Otherwise, the texts of these editions are very close.
The VI edition has gained notoriety in many lists.

Going to publish the poem, Lermontov continued to improve the text and at the same time took into account the difficulty of passing such a work through censorship. He kept the image of the Demon unchanged, but composed new end poem in which an angel saves Tamara's soul.

Her very image, the description of Tamara in the coffin, has undergone changes. However, the double defeat of the Demon only strengthened the pathos of denial and the theme of despair, without changing the general philosophical concept of the poem. This is how the VII edition of the poem dated December 4, 1838 appeared.

At the beginning of 1839, the poem attracted the attention of the highest circles of society, close to the imperial court. The Empress took an interest in her. A corrected and calligraphically rewritten text was presented to the court, in which the poet made new amendments and excluded the dialogue about God (“Why should I know your sorrows?”).

On February 8–9, this text was read to the empress and returned to the author. The VIII edition of the poem, after which the text was not altered, formed the basis of the Karlsruj edition of 1856.

Reworking of the poem in 1838–1839 represents a complex creative process; it cannot be reduced to the adaptation of the poem to censorship conditions. Eliminating some lines that are unacceptable from the point of view of censorship,

Lermontov at the same time changed the plot, individual parts of the text, enriched the characteristics and descriptions, polished the work as a whole. During the alteration of the poem, new monologues of the Demon arose, which became outstanding achievements of Russian poetry. Therefore, it is impossible to return to the VI edition of The Demon, rejecting the later ones, as suggested by some researchers.

At the same time, the VI edition is of considerable interest for understanding the ideological intent of the poem. It is printed in full in an appendix to the main text. Excerpts from the first Caucasian edition of The Demon are also printed there, known from the Yerevan list of Kh.

In these lists, the text of the poem is preceded by the dedication “To you, the Caucasus, the harsh king of the earth ...”, printed for the first time as a separate poem (in the collection “Molodik”, 1844) and placed in the academic collection of Lermontov’s works (vol. 2. M.–L ., 1954, p. 233) under No. 1 next to the poem “To you,

The Caucasus, the harsh king of the earth”, designated No. 2 (ibid., p. 234). It has now been established that Poem No. 2 was written out of touch with "The Demon." The autograph of this poem, which is in a private collection, is located on a double sheet with a drawing and Lermontov's signature under it "May 21 after a walk to Volobuev's mill."

Recently, another similar drawing by Lermontov was found, also made near Stavropol with the poet's signature “1837 May 13th. Volobuev’s Mill” (See Science and Life, 1972, No. 1, pp. 18–20).

Consequently, the poem "To you, the Caucasus, the stern king of the earth", indicated in the academic publication No. 2, was created in May 1837, when the Caucasian edition of the "Demon" did not yet exist.

This date allows clarifying the issue of the relationship between the two texts and making adjustments to the existing comments (see pp. 538, 621, vol. 1 of this ed.).

Textually, thematically and in terms of poetic features, the poem “To You, the Caucasus, the Severe King of the Earth” is connected with the dedication to the “Aul of Bastunji” and, in the edition of 1837, was apparently conceived as an independent poem dedicated to the poet’s forthcoming meeting with the mountains of the Caucasus.

Edition of 1837 - draft, not subjected to final finishing. In 1838, it was completely revised, and on its basis the last edition of “To You, the Caucasus, the Severe King of the Earth” (No. 1) appeared; it was created already in the north (cf. the lines: “In the north - in the country you are a stranger, I am yours everywhere - always and everywhere yours”) and prefaced to the “Demon” in the form of a dedication.

In the present edition, it is this edition that is printed in vol. 1 (p. 510) as the final one; see the previous edition of 1837 in this volume on p. 486–487.

Lermontov's poem is based on the biblical myth of a fallen angel who rebelled against God. This image, personifying the "spirit of denial", was addressed by many European poets (Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost, Lucifer in Byron's "Cain", Mephistopheles in Goethe's "Faust", the Fallen Spirit in the poem "Eloa" by Vigny, etc.), as well as Pushkin in the poems "Demon" and "Angel".

However, Lermontov is quite original in developing the plot and interpreting the main image, he does not follow directly from any of his predecessors. The originality of Lermontov's "Demon" is that it is unusually sublime and internally tragic.

Ultimately, through the symbolic-philosophical form in the poem, the features of Lermontov's contemporary with his ideological and moral quest appear.

If in Goethe's "Faust" the life dialectics was revealed in the correlation of the images of Faust and Mephistopheles, then Lermontov, as it were, combined these images, thereby focusing on internal contradictions and the fate of the individual.

V. G. Belinsky turned to the image of the Demon in order to determine the general nature of Lermontov's poetry: “The Demon did not frighten Lermontov; he was his singer ”(V. G. Belinsky. Poln. sobr. soch., vol. 7. M., 1955, p. 37). The theme of the Demon was associated by Belinsky with the pathos of struggle and denial, with which Lermontov’s thought is saturated: “a gigantic swing, a demonic flight - a proud enmity with the sky” - with these words the critic defined the main feature of Lermontov’s poetry (ibid., vol. 12. M., 1956, with 84). He was in solidarity with his correspondent V.P. Botkin, who saw in The Demon "a denial of the spirit and worldview developed by the Middle Ages, or, in other words, the abiding social structure" (letter

V. P. Botkin to V. G. Belinsky dated March 31, 1842 - in the book: Belinsky. Letters. Ed. and note. E. A. Lyatsky, vol. II. SPb., 1914, p. 419).

Later, in a letter to V.P. Botkin dated March 17, 1842, Belinsky, calling the poem “childish, immature” and at the same time “colossal creation”, wrote excitedly: “The Demon has become a fact of my life, I repeat to others, I tell myself, in it for me are worlds of truths, feelings, beauties ”(V. G. Belinsky. Poln. sobr. soch., vol. 12. M., 1956, pp. 85 and 86).

Part I

And over the peaks of the Caucasus
The exile of paradise flew by:
Under it, Kazbek, like a facet of a diamond,
Shined with eternal snows,
And, deep down blackening,
Like a crack, a serpent's dwelling,
The radiant Daryal curled,
And Terek, jumping like a lioness
With a shaggy mane on the ridge,
Roared, - and a mountain beast and a bird,
Circling in the azure height
Heeded the word of his waters;
And golden clouds
From the southern countries, from afar
He was escorted north;
And the rocks in a tight crowd,
Full of mysterious slumber,
Bowed their heads over him
Following the flickering waves;
And towers of castles on the rocks
Looked menacingly through the mists -
At the gates of the Caucasus on the clock
Guard Giants!
And wild and wonderful was around
All God's world; but a proud spirit
looked contemptuously
Creation of your god
And on his high forehead
Nothing reflected.

Part 2

"Father, father, leave threats,
Do not scold your own Tamara;
I cry: you see these tears,
They are not the first.
In vain the suitors crowd
They rush here from distant places.
There are many brides in Georgia;
And I can't be anyone's wife!
Oh, don't scold me, father.
You yourself noticed: day by day
I wither, the victim of an evil poison!
I'm tormented by the evil spirit
Irresistible dream;
I'm dying, have pity on me!
Give to the sacred abode
Your reckless daughter;
A savior will protect me there,
I will shed my anguish before him,
I have no fun in the world...
Shrines of the world of autumn,
Let the gloomy cell accept
Like a coffin, in advance of me ... "

And in a secluded monastery
Her family took
And a humble sackcloth
They clothed the young breast.
But also in monastic clothes,
As under a patterned brocade,
All a lawless dream
Her heart was beating like before.
Before the altar, by the light of candles,
In the hours of solemn singing,
Familiar, among prayers,
She often heard speech.
Under the dome of the gloomy temple
A familiar image sometimes
Gliding without a sound or a trace
In a mist of light incense;
He shone softly like a star;
He beckoned and called ... but - where? ..

In the cool between two hills
The holy monastery hid.
Chinar and poplars in rows
He was surrounded - and sometimes,
When the night lay down in the gorge,
Flashed through them, in the windows of the cell,
The lamp of the young sinner.
All around, in the shade of almond trees,
Where a row stands sad crosses,
Silent guardians of the tombs,
Choirs of light birds sang.
They jumped on the stones, made noise
Keys in a cold wave
And under the overhanging rock
Merging friendly in the gorge,
Rolled on, between the bushes,
Frosted flowers.

Mountains were visible to the north.
At the brilliance of the morning Aurora,
When the blue smoke
Smoking deep in the valley
And turning to the east
Muetzins are calling to prayer,
And the sonorous voice of the bell
Trembling, awakening the abode;
In a solemn and peaceful hour,
When a Georgian is young
With a long jug for water
The steep descends from the mountain,
Snow chain tops
light purple wall
Drawn in the clear sky
And dressed at sunset
They are a ruddy veil;
And between them, cutting through the clouds,
He stood, all above his head,
Kazbek, the mighty king of the Caucasus,
In a turban and a brocade chasuble.

But, full of criminal thoughts,
Tamara's heart is unavailable
Pure delight. in front of her
The whole world is dressed in a gloomy shadow;
And everything in it is an excuse for torment
And the morning beam and the darkness of the nights.
It used to be only sleepy nights
Coolness will cover the earth,
Before the divine icon
She falls into madness
And cries; and in the silence of the night
Her heavy sobbing
The traveler's attention worries;
And he thinks: “That is a mountain spirit
Chained in the cave groans!”
And sensitive straining hearing,
Drives a tired horse.

Full of longing and trembling,
Tamara is often at the window
Sitting alone in thought
And looks into the distance with a diligent eye,
And the whole day, sighing, waiting ...
Someone whispers to her: he will come!
No wonder her dreams caressed,
No wonder he appeared to her,
With eyes full of sadness
And wonderful tenderness of speeches.
For many days she languishes,
She doesn't know why;
Does he want to pray to the saints -
And the heart prays to him;
Tired of the constant struggle
Will he bow down on the bed of sleep:
The pillow burns, she is stuffy, scared,
And all, jumping up, she trembles;
Her chest and shoulders are burning,
No strength to breathe, fog in the eyes,
Embrace eagerly looking for a meeting,
Kisses melt on the lips ...
_______________

Evening haze airy cover
Already dressed the hills of Georgia.
Habit sweet obedient,
The Demon flew into offense.
But for a long, long time he did not dare
Shrine of Peaceful Shelter
Violate. And there was a minute
When he seemed ready
Leave the intent cruel
Thoughtful against the high wall
He wanders: from his steps
Without wind, a leaf trembles in the shade.
He looked up: her window,
Illuminated by a lamp, shines;
She's been waiting for someone!
And in the midst of the general silence
Chingura 1 slender rattling
And the sounds of the song resounded;
And those sounds flowed, flowed,
Like tears, measured one after another;
And this song was tender
As if for the earth she
Was stacked in the sky!
Is it an angel with a forgotten friend
I wanted to see you again
Stealthily flew here
And he sang about the past,
To alleviate his pain?
The anguish of love, its excitement
Comprehended the Demon for the first time;
He wants to leave in fear ...
His wing doesn't move!
And, miracle! from faded eyes
A heavy tear rolls down...
Until now near that cell
Through the burnt stone is visible
Tears hot as a flame
Inhuman tear!..

And he enters, ready to love,
With a heart open to goodness,
And he thinks that a new life
The desired time has come.
A vague thrill of anticipation
Silent fear of the unknown
Like a first date
Confessed with a proud soul.
That was an evil omen!
He enters, looks - in front of him
Messenger of heaven, cherub,
Guardian of the beautiful sinner,
Standing with a shining brow
And from the enemy with a clear smile
He painted her with a wing;
And a ray of divine light
Suddenly blinded by an unclean gaze,
And instead of a sweet hello
There was a heavy reproach:

"The spirit is restless, the spirit is vicious,
Who called you in the midnight darkness?
Your fans are not here
Evil has not breathed here until now;
To my love, to my shrine
Do not lay a criminal trail.
Who called you?
In response to him
The evil spirit chuckled slyly;
His eyes flushed with jealousy;
And again in his soul woke up
Poison of ancient hatred.
"She is mine! he said sternly,
Leave her, she's mine!
You, protector, appeared late,
And she, like me, you're not a judge.
With a heart full of pride
I have set my seal;
Your shrine is no longer here
Here I own and love!”
And the angel with sad eyes
Looked at the poor victim
And slowly flapping your wings
I drowned in the ether of the sky.
………………………………………………………………

Tamara
ABOUT! who are you? your speech is dangerous!
Did hell or heaven send you to me?
What do you want?..

Daemon
You're beautiful!

Tamara
But say who are you? answer...

Daemon
I am the one who listened
You are in the midnight silence
Whose thought whispered to your soul,
Whose sadness did you vaguely guess,
Whose image I saw in a dream.
I am the one whose gaze destroys hope;
I am the one no one loves;
I am the scourge of my earthly slaves,
I am the king of knowledge and freedom,
I am the enemy of heaven, I am the evil of nature,
And, you see, I am at your feet!
I brought you tenderness
Silent love prayer
Earthly first torment
And my first tears.
ABOUT! listen - out of regret!
Me good and heaven
You could return with a word.
Your love with a holy cover
Dressed, I would appear there
Like a new angel in a new brilliance;
ABOUT! just listen, please,
I am your slave - I love you!
As soon as I saw you -
And secretly suddenly hated
Immortality and my power.
I envied involuntarily
Incomplete earthly joy;
Not to live like you, it hurt me
And it's scary - it's different to live with you.
In a bloodless heart, an unexpected ray
Warmed up again,
And sadness at the bottom of an old wound
She moved like a snake.
What is this eternity without you?
My dominion is infinity?
Empty sounding words
A vast temple - without a deity!

Tamara
Leave me, O evil spirit!
Shut up, I don't trust the enemy...
Creator… Alas! I can not
Pray... deadly poison
My weakening mind is embraced!
Listen, you will ruin me;
Your words are fire and poison...
Tell me why you love me!

Daemon
Why, beauty? Alas,
I don't know!.. Full of new life,
From my criminal head
I proudly took off the crown of thorns,
I threw all the past into dust:
My heaven, my hell in your eyes.
I love you with an unearthly passion,
How can you not love
With all rapture, with all power
Immortal thoughts and dreams.
In my soul, from the beginning of the world,
Your image has been printed
He hovered in front of me
In the deserts of eternal ether.
For a long time disturbing my thought,
The name sounded sweet to me;
In the days of bliss me in paradise
You were missing one.
ABOUT! if you could understand
What a bitter languor
All my life, centuries without separation
And enjoy and suffer
Do not expect praise for evil,
No reward for good;
Live for yourself, miss yourself
And this eternal struggle
No celebration, no reconciliation!
Always regret and not wish
Know everything, feel everything, see everything,
Try to hate everything
And despise everything in the world! ..
Only God's curse
Fulfilled from the same day
Nature's hot embrace
Forever cool for me;
The space was blue before me;
I saw the wedding dress
Lights, familiar to me for a long time ...
They flowed in crowns of gold;
But what? former brother
None recognized.
Exiles like themselves
I began to call in desperation,
But words and faces and evil eyes,
Alas! I didn't recognize myself.
And in fear I, flapping my wings,
Rushed - but where? why?
I don't know... old friends
I was rejected; like eden,
The world has become deaf and dumb for me.
At the free whim of the current
So damaged rook
No sails and no rudder
Floats, not knowing the destination;
So early in the morning
A fragment of a thundercloud,
Blackening in azure silence,
Alone, not daring to stick anywhere,
Flies without a goal and a trace,
God knows where and where!
And I ruled people for a short time,
Taught them sin for a short time,
All noble dishonored
And he blasphemed everything beautiful;
Not for long... the flame of pure faith
Easily forever I poured into them ...
But were my labors worth it?
Only fools and hypocrites?
And I hid in the gorges of the mountains;
And began to wander like a meteor,
In the deep darkness of midnight...
And the lonely traveler rushed,
Deceived by a close flame;
And falling into the abyss with a horse,
Called in vain - and the trail is bloody
Behind him twisted along the steepness ...
But malice is gloomy fun
I didn't like it for long!
In the fight against a mighty hurricane,
How often, raising the ashes,
Dressed in lightning and mist,
I ran noisily in the clouds,
So that in the crowd of rebellious elements
Silence the murmur of the heart,
Save yourself from the inevitable thought
And forget the unforgettable!
What a tale of painful deprivation,
The labors and troubles of the human crowd
To come, past generations,
Before one minute
My unacknowledged torment?
What people? what is their life and work?
They have passed, they will pass...
There is hope - the right court awaits:
He can forgive, even condemn!
My sadness is always here
And there will be no end to her, like me;
And do not take a nap in her grave!
She fawns like a snake
It burns and splashes like a flame,
That crushes my thought like a stone -
Hopes of the dead and passions
Invincible mausoleum!

Tamara
Why should I know your sorrows
Why are you complaining to me?
You have sinned...

Daemon
Is it against you?

Tamara
We can be heard!

Daemon
We are alone.

Tamara
And God!

Daemon
They don't look at us:
He is busy with heaven, not earth!

Tamara
And the punishment, the torment of hell?

Daemon
So what? You will be there with me!

Tamara
Whoever you are, my random friend, -
Lost peace forever
Involuntarily, with the joy of mystery,
Sufferer, I hear you.
But if your speech is sly,
But if you're a deceit...
ABOUT! spare me! What glory?
What is my soul to you?
Am I dearer to the sky
Everyone you didn't see?
They, alas! beautiful too;
Like here, their virgin bed
Not crumpled by a mortal hand...
Not! give me a fatal oath ...
Tell me - you see: I yearn;
You see women's dreams!
You involuntarily caress the fear in your soul ...
But you understood everything, you know everything -
And, of course, you will take pity!
Swear to me ... from evil possessions
Renounce now vow.
Really no oaths, no promises
Are there no more invincibles? ..

Daemon
I swear on the first day of creation
I swear on his last day
I swear on the shame of crime
And eternal truth triumph.
I swear to fall by bitter flour,
Victory by a short dream;
I swear on a date with you
And again threatening separation.
I swear by the host of spirits,
The fate of the brothers who are subject to me,
With swords of impassive angels,
My unsleeping enemies;
I swear by heaven and hell
Earthly shrine and you
I swear by your last look
Your first tear
Your gentle lips with breath,
A wave of silk curls
I swear by bliss and suffering,
I swear on my love:
I renounced the old revenge
I renounced proud thoughts;
From now on, the poison of insidious flattery
Nothing disturbs the mind;
I want to reconcile with the sky
I want to love, I want to pray
I want to believe good.
Wipe away with a tear of repentance
I am on a forehead worthy of you,
Traces of heavenly fire -
And the world in ignorance is calm
Let it bloom without me!
ABOUT! believe me: I'm alone until now
You comprehended and appreciated:
Choosing you as my shrine
I have placed power at your feet.
I'm waiting for your love as a gift
And I will give you eternity in a moment;
In love, as in malice, believe, Tamara,
I am immutable and great.
I am you, free son of ether,
I'll take it to the superstellar regions;
And you will be the queen of the world
My first friend
Without regret, without participation
You will look at the ground
Where there is no true happiness
No lasting beauty
Where there are only crimes and executions,
Where petty passions only live;
Where they do not know how without fear
Neither hate nor love.
Do you not know what is
People momentary love?
The excitement of the blood is young, -
But the days run and the blood runs cold!
Who can resist separation
The temptation of a new beauty
Against fatigue and boredom
And the willfulness of dreams?
Not! not you, my friend,
Find out, appointed by fate
Fading silently in a tight circle,
Jealous rudeness slave,
Among the cowardly and cold,
False friends and enemies
Fear and fruitless hopes,
Empty and painful labors!
Sad behind the high wall
You will not die without passions,
Among the prayers, equally far
From god and people.
Oh no, beautiful creature
You are assigned to something else;
Other suffering awaits you
Other delights depth;
Leave your old desires
And the miserable light of his fate:
The abyss of proud knowledge
In return, I will open it for you.
A crowd of my office spirits
I will bring you to your feet;
Handmaidens of light and magical
To you, beauty, I will give;
And for you from the eastern star
I will pluck a golden crown;
I'll take the midnight dew from the flowers;
I will put him to sleep with that dew;
A beam of ruddy sunset
Your camp, like a ribbon, I will wrap,
With a breath of pure fragrance
I will drink the surrounding air;
All the time wonderful game
I will cherish your hearing;
I will build magnificent halls
From turquoise and amber;
I will sink to the bottom of the sea
I will fly beyond the clouds
I will give you everything, everything earthly -
Love me!..

And he's a little
Touched with hot lips
Her trembling lips;
Temptation full speeches
He answered her prayers.
A mighty gaze gazed into her eyes!
He burned her. In the darkness of the night
Above her, he sparkled,
Irresistible as a dagger.
Alas! the evil spirit triumphed!
The deadly poison of his kiss
Instantly penetrated into her chest.
Anguished terrible scream
Night revolted the silence.
It was everything: love, suffering,
Rebuke with a last plea
And a hopeless goodbye
Farewell to young life

At that time the midnight watchman
One around the wall is steep
Quietly making the appointed path,
Wandered with a cast-iron board,
And near the cell of the young virgin
He tamed his measured step
And a hand over a cast iron board,
Confused, he stopped.
And through the surrounding silence,
He thought he heard
Two mouths consonant kiss,
A momentary cry and a faint moan.
And unholy doubt
Penetrated into the heart of the old man ...
But another moment passed
And everything was quiet; from afar
Just a breath of wind
The murmuring of the leaves brought
Yes, with a dark coast sadly
The mountain river whispered.
Saint's saint's canon
He hurries to read in fear,
So that the obsession of an evil spirit
Drive away from sinful thought;
Crosses with trembling fingers
Dream agitated chest
And silently with quick steps
The regular one continues on.
_______________

Like a peri sleeping sweetheart
She lay in her coffin
Whiter and cleaner bedspreads
There was a languid color of her brow.
Forever lowered eyelashes ...
But who would, oh heaven! didn't say
That the gaze below them only dozed
And, wonderful, just expected
Or a kiss, or dennitsa?
But it's useless daylight beam
Sliding over them with a golden stream,
In vain they are in mute sadness
Mouths of relatives kissed ...
Not! death eternal seal
Nothing can break it!

Never been in the days of fun
So colorful and rich
Tamara's festive outfit.
Flowers of the native gorge
(So the ancient requires the rite)
They pour their fragrance over her
And, clenched by a dead hand,
How to say goodbye to the earth!
And nothing in her face
Didn't hint at the end
In the heat of passion and ecstasy;
And were all her features
Filled with that beauty
Like marble, alien to expression,
Deprived of feeling and mind,
Mysterious as death itself.
A strange smile froze
Flickering across her lips.
Talked about a lot of sad things
She attentive eyes:
There was cold contempt in her
Soul ready to bloom
The last thought expression,
Forgive the soundless earth.
A vain reflection of the life of the past,
She was even deader
Still more hopeless for the heart
Forever faded eyes.
So at the hour of the solemn sunset,
When, melted in a sea of gold,
The chariot of the day has already disappeared,
Snow of the Caucasus, for a moment
The tide is ruddy,
They shine in the dark distance.
But this beam is half alive
In the desert you will not meet a reflection,
And it won't light anyone's path
From its top, icy!

A crowd of neighbors and relatives
Already gathered in a sad way.
Tormenting gray curls,
Silently hitting the chest
Goodal sits down for the last time
On a white-maned horse.
And the train started moving. Three days,
Three nights their journey will last:
Between the old grandfather's bones
The shelter of the deceased was dug for her.
One of the forefathers of Gudal,
Robber of wanderers and villages,
When sickness took hold of him
And the hour of repentance has come
Sins past in redemption
He promised to build a church
On top of the granite rocks
Where only blizzards hear singing,
Where only the kite flew.
And soon between the snows of Kazbek
A lonely temple has risen
And the bones of an evil man
Rest there again;
And turned into a graveyard
Rock native to the clouds:
Like closer to heaven
Warmer posthumous dwelling? ..
As if further from people
The last dream will not be indignant ...
In vain! the dead won't dream
No sadness, no joy of the past days.

In the space of blue ether
One of the angels of the saints
Flying on golden wings
And a sinful soul from the world
He carried in his arms.
And sweet speech of hope
Dispelled her doubts
And a trace of misconduct and suffering
He washed away her tears.
From afar the sounds of paradise
They reached them - when suddenly,
Free path crossing,
An infernal spirit rose up from the abyss.
He was powerful, like a noisy whirlwind,
Shined like lightning,
And proudly in insane insolence
He says: "She's mine!"
She clung to her protective chest,
Prayer drowned out the horror,
Tamara is a sinful soul.
The fate of the future was decided
Again he stood before her,
But, God! - who would recognize him?
With what an evil look he looked,
How full of deadly poison
Enmity that knows no end -
And breathed grave cold
From a motionless face.
Disappear, dark spirit of doubt! -
The heavenly messenger replied:
You have triumphed enough;
But the hour of judgment has now come -
And God's decision!
The days of testing are over;
With the clothes of the mortal earth
The shackles of evil fell from her.
Find out! we have been waiting for it for a long time!
Her soul was one of those
Whose life is one moment
unbearable pain,
Unattainable pleasures:
Creator from the best ether
Weaved their living strings,
They are not made for the world
And the world was not created for them!
Redeemed at the price of cruel
She has her doubts...
She suffered and loved -
And heaven opened for love!”
And the angel with stern eyes
Looked at the tempter
And with joyful flapping of wings,
I drowned in the radiance of the sky.
And cursed Demon defeated
Your crazy dreams
And again he remained, arrogant,
Alone, as before, in the universe
Without hope and love!
On the slope of a stone mountain
Above the Koishaur valley
Still standing to this day
The teeth are the ruins of an old one.
Stories scary for children
There are still stories about them...
Like a ghost, a silent monument,
Witness those magical days
Blackens between the trees.
The aul crumbled below,
The earth blossoms and turns green;
And voices discordant rumble
Gets lost and caravans
They go, ringing, from afar,
And, plunging through the mists,
The river sparkles and foams.
And life forever young
Coolness, sun and spring
Nature is joking,
Like a carefree child.
But sad is the castle that has served
Once in your turn,
Like a poor old man who survived
Friends and lovely family.
And just waiting for the moon to rise
Its invisible inhabitants:
Then they have a holiday and freedom!
Buzzing, running in all directions.
Gray-haired spider, new hermit,
Spins the webs of its warp;
Green lizard family
Plays merrily on the roof;
And a wary snake
Creeps out of a dark hole
On the slab of the old porch,
Then suddenly it will fit into three rings,
That will lie in a long strip,
And shines like a damask sword,
Forgotten in the field of old sich,
Unnecessary to the fallen hero!..
Everything is wild; there are no traces anywhere
Years gone by: the hand of the ages
Diligently, swept them away for a long time,
And don't remember anything
About the glorious name of Gudala,
Oh, his dear daughter!
But the church is on a steep peak,
Where are the bones taken by their earth,
We keep the power of the saint,
It is still visible between the clouds.
And at her gate stand
On guard are black granites,
Covered with cloaks of snow;
And on their chest instead of armor
The eternal ice is burning.
Falls sleepy bulks
From the ledges, like waterfalls,
Frost seized suddenly
They hang around frowning.
And there the blizzard walks on patrol,
Blowing dust off gray walls
That song starts a long one,
That calls out to sentries;
Hearing news in the distance
About a wonderful temple, in that country,
There are only clouds from the east
The crowd rush to worship;
But over a family of tombstones
Nobody is sad for a long time.
Rock of the gloomy Kazbek
Prey greedily guards,
And the eternal murmur of man
Their eternal peace will not disturb.

Analysis of the poem "Demon" by Lermontov

Lermontov was one of the first to develop the "demonic" theme in Russian literature. The theme of "demonism" occupied Lermontov from an early age. In many works of the poet, "demonic images" appeared. He wrote the poem "Demon" for about 12 years. The beginning of the work dates back to 1829. The edition of 1838 is closest to the final text. Lermontov lived in the Caucasus and transferred the scene of action there. The main character appeared - Princess Tamara, based on the Georgian folk legend about an evil spirit. The poet continued to make corrections and finished the poem only in 1841.

The image of a demon in Lermontov is inspired by his romantic ideas about a proud and rebellious lyrical hero. The poet tried to imagine the inner doubts and experiences of the evil spirit, to understand why he embarked on the path of evil. The demon is of biblical origin, he is a fallen angel who was cast down by God into hell for pride and the desire for absolute power.

The poet's demon is more "human". He does not enjoy his power for long. The suggestion of sinful thoughts soon begins to bother him, especially since people do not try to fight him, but willingly listen to his instructions. Even in hell, the demon experiences acute loneliness. He becomes an outcast among the rest of Satan's servants. Retiring to the gloomy and impregnable rocks, the demon finds temporary entertainment in killing lone travelers.

In such a sad pastime, the demon notices the beautiful Tamara. It seemed to him that nothing could awaken any strong feelings in him. But the appearance of a young girl struck even a gloomy demon. He is seized by an irresistible desire to take possession of the soul of a beauty. He inspires her fiancé with sinful thoughts, which leads to his death. Having got rid of the opponent, the demon begins to visit Tamara in dreams in the guise of an unknown seducer. The princess is frightened by sinful thoughts, and she goes to the monastery. But even here the demon haunts her. During the last decisive appearance, he expels the angel guarding the girl and seeks her consent. Tamara does not renounce God, but she believes in love and that the demon can be cleansed of evil with her. She submits to love and dies.

The demon triumphs. He forgets about the oath and appears in his true form. But Tamara's soul is already in the hands of an angel. By the power of her love, she earned divine forgiveness. The demon is forced to retreat and admit defeat.

Lermontov's attitude towards the demon changes from sympathetic at the beginning to condemning at the end. The author himself destroys his idea of the possibility of the transformation of a demon under the influence of a strong feeling. The essence of the devil is unchanging, so he is powerless before the greatness of divine love.

Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov began work on the poem "Demon" at the age of fifteen. Over the next decade, the author refined the details, made changes and amendments to the descriptions, but left the main images untouched. The literature of the 19th century was characterized by the use of the theme of evil spirits, the opposition of the image of God and the Demon. At the same time, the usual concepts of good and evil are reversed. It is God who acts as a tyrant, demanding from a person complete obedience to his laws. And Satan, Lucifer or Demon, the same entity, called differently, is a rebel, opposing himself to earthly and divine forces.

Part I summary

The protagonist of the work is a rebellious Demon, exiled by God to earth for disobedience to power.

For many centuries, he sowed evil on earth, reveled in his own strength, however, and this bored him. The demon is alone. Enjoying the magnificent landscapes of the Caucasus, the grandeur of the mountain slopes, mighty rivers, he feels only longing, contempt and hatred.

The Demon is distracted from sad thoughts by an accidentally seen preparation for the holiday. The always sad and gloomy house, erected by the gray-haired Georgian prince Gudal, was richly decorated, music and the cheerful hubbub of the guests were heard from everywhere. The prince betrothed his beautiful daughter, the beautiful Tamara, to a rich groom.

The last dance that the bride dances on the roof of the house, saying goodbye to her native places, attracted the attention of the Demon. The graceful girl, still full of childish joy, danced for the last time in her father's house. What Tamara was waiting for in a strange family, she did not know. Only the stories that a Georgian girl becomes a slave after marriage overshadowed her fun.

The groom hastened to meet the bride. With a rich caravan, he was heading to the house of the gray-haired Gudal. On their way there is a chapel, the prayer of which could protect from a stray bullet or sword. The crafty Demon distracts the groom from prayer, bringing him beautiful images of a young bride. That same night, robbers attacked the caravan. In a short battle, the young groom dies. The faithful horse brings his body to the gates of Gudala.

Tamara spent the whole night in tears, grieving for her fiancé. Suddenly she heard a beautiful voice that spoke comforting words. The voice promised to come to the girl every night, casting golden dreams. But the beautiful image that appeared before Tamara in the morning rays did not belong to either the guardian angel or the martyr. There was no halo above his head. So Tamara realized that the Demon was looking at her with eyes full of boundless love.

Part II summary

Tortured by the "evil spirit", Tamara rejected all suitors who claimed her hand, and persuaded her father to send her to a monastery. However, the Demon does not leave the girl there either. At night he wanders around the fence, doubting whether it is worth ruining a young soul. But love for Tamara is getting stronger, she attracts. The demon experiences long-forgotten feelings, tears even roll from his eyes, burning through the stone.

The girl, torn by conflicting feelings, fervently prays for the salvation of her soul, and at the same time is waiting for the night guest. One evening, the Demon sees the light of a lamp in the window of her cell and decides to enter. His soul is filled with kindness and love. But, met on the threshold of the room, the guardian angel awakens in the Demon a feeling of hatred. He claims his rights to the girl and drives the cherub away.

Carried away by feelings, Tamara asked not to destroy her, to which she received the answer that even in hell, but they should be together. And the girl gave up. As soon as the lips of the Demon touch the lips of the beauty, she dies. Her long groan was heard outside the cell.

In the coffin, Tamara lay as beautiful as she had been in life. Her eyes seemed to sleep. Only a strange smile froze on his lips. For three days and three nights, according to custom, the funeral procession moved through the mountains. Stopping at Kazbek, gray-haired Gudal erected a temple in her honor.

In heaven, Tamara's soul was raised to heaven by a guardian angel. He consoled her, washing away her doubts with tears. Suddenly, a Demon appeared in front of them, confidently and defiantly exclaiming “She is mine!”. To which the Angel replied that the Lord had seen everything and the soul had long been forgiven.

History of writing a poem

Researchers for a long time could not decide on the date of completion of the poet's work on The Demon. It is known that he began work in 1829, and the first lines remained unchanged in all subsequent versions. The study of the copy made by A.I. Filosofov, led to the conclusion that the author's work was completed in 1839.

During the life of Lermontov, the poem was not published for various reasons. The main one is called censorship. However, the poem was popular. It was read in handwritten versions, distributed in lists. This applies to all author's versions of the work, and there are eight of them.

It was not until 1842 that some excerpts from The Demon were published in the journal Otechestvennye Zapiski. Full text first saw the light in Germany, in 1856, in a limited edition. A year later, the work was republished, however, it did not have the same philosophical overtones as the first publication. In Russia, The Demon was first published in 1860.

The idea of writing a poem about the Demon's love for a nun came to Mikhail Yuryevich during his studies at a boarding school. The original version had only 92 stanzas. It was preceded by a brief description of the events and an explanation in prose. The second edition, dated 1830, was more complete. However, the action took place in an undefined landscape, with no indication of a specific location. The images were generalized, there was a lack of artistic integrity.

Only in 1837, after a stay in the Caucasus, Lermontov "resettles" acting heroes it is there, endows the landscape with characteristic features, and gives the events a national flavor. In 1838, the author dedicates the poem to Varenka Lopukhina, leaving behind a "shadow of doubt" that disturbed his soul.

In 1839, the poet prepares the final version for censorship. He removes from the text some points that could be rejected as "seditious". However, the censorship did not let the poem pass for publication. The work faced the same fate as Griboyedov's Woe from Wit. Its popularity reached unprecedented heights even before the printed edition.

The image of the Demon in the work

Lermontov presents the main character as an unusual mystical creature. In the poem, the Demon has three forms. At the very beginning, this is overthrown, tired of perfect evil, despising all living, lonely creatures. The demon is tormented by memories of those times when, as a carefree angel, he could still believe, love, sympathize. The punishment, which consisted not only in overthrow, but also in the absence of forgetfulness, hardened him. And the evil that he brought to people for many years devastated the soul.

The second entity wakes up in the Demon after contemplating Tamara's dance. He acquires the features of ghostly beauty, again feels the power of earthly love and passion. His goal is to return to God's kingdom, change fate. He is ready to give eternity to his beloved girl. But the fact that for this she will have to die, the Demon does not pay attention.

A special accent that draws attention to the awakened feelings of the Demon is a tear that rolled down his cheek. However, Lermontov does not leave him a chance for earthly happiness, pointing out that tears burn through a stone. One of the conditions for forgiveness is repentance, and the Demon does not seek forgiveness and does not forgive himself. Without this, everything remains in vain. Therefore, the awakening of light feelings in the Demon is short-lived.

The Demon acquires the third appearance after meeting with an angel in Tamara's cell. Lermontov presents the reader with an evil and dangerous creature, ready to do anything to achieve his own goal. Pride, a sense of possessiveness wake up again in the Demon. For rebirth, return to paradise, release from punishment, the Demon is ready to kill the girl. The same traits are inherent in him during the struggle for the soul of a nun after her death. However, the result of all his actions again becomes loneliness.

Philosophical questions specific to the poem

It is impossible to draw unambiguous conclusions about good and evil after reading the Demon. The heroes of the work do not have prototypes, therefore they are perceived in two ways. Although Mikhail Yuryevich gave extremely evasive answers to numerous questions of contemporaries about the image of the Demon, many concluded that the author wrote the image of the Demon from himself.

The unequivocal conclusion that visits the reader is that any destructive action is detrimental to a person. In addition, the poem raises the following philosophical questions:

The demon is a manifestation of absolute evil or is it a victim of injustice;

Did the Demon resign himself to his fate at the end of the poem and many others.

A unique work that allows the reader to draw independent conclusions about good and evil, contains vivid images, lyrical digressions, descriptions of nature, and is presented in a simple and understandable language. At the same time, "Demon" is filled with pathos, romanticism and numerous philosophical reflections.

From a cosmic height, the “sad Demon” surveys the wild and wonderful world of the Central Caucasus: like the edge of a diamond, Kazbek sparkles, the Terek jumps like a lioness, the Darial gorge winds like a snake - and feels nothing but contempt. Evil even then bored the spirit of evil Everything is a burden: and perpetual loneliness, and immortality, and unlimited power over the insignificant earth. Meanwhile, the landscape is changing. Under the wing of the flying Demon is no longer a cluster of rocks and abysses, but the lush valleys of happy Georgia: the brilliance and breath of a thousand plants, the voluptuous midday heat and the dewy aromas of bright nights. Alas, these luxurious paintings do not cause new thoughts in the inhabitant of the superstellar regions. Only for a moment the distracted attention of the Demon is delayed by the festive revival in the usually silent possessions of the Georgian feudal lord: the owner of the estate, Prince Gudal, betrothed the only heiress, in his high house they are preparing for the wedding celebration.

Relatives have gathered ahead of time, the wine is already pouring, by sunset the groom of Princess Tamara, the illustrious ruler of Sinodal, will arrive, and while the servants are rolling out ancient carpets: according to custom, on the roof covered with carpets, the bride, even before the appearance of the groom, must perform a traditional dance with a tambourine. Princess Tamara is dancing! Oh, how she dances! Now it rushes like a bird, circling a small tambourine above its head, then it freezes like a frightened doe, and a light cloud of sadness runs over the lovely bright-eyed face. After all, this is the last day of the princess in her father's house! How will someone else's family meet her? No, no, Tamara is not given in marriage against her will. The groom chosen by her father is to her heart: in love, young, good-looking - what more! But here no one hampered her freedom, but there... Having driven away the "secret doubt", Tamara smiles again. Smiling and dancing. The gray-haired Gudal is proud of her daughter, the guests admire, raise their horns, utter magnificent toasts: “I swear, such a beauty / Never bloomed under the sun of the south!” The demon and he admired someone else's bride. It circles and circles over the wide courtyard of the Georgian castle, as if chained to a dancing girl's figure with an invisible chain. In the desert of his soul there is an inexplicable excitement. Has a miracle happened? It truly happened: “In him, a feeling suddenly spoke / Once in his native language!” Well, and what will the free son of ether, enchanted by a powerful passion for an earthly woman, do? Alas, the immortal spirit acts in the same way as a cruel and powerful tyrant would have done in his situation: he kills an opponent. At the instigation of the Demon, Tamara's fiancé is attacked by robbers. Having plundered the wedding gifts, interrupted the guards and dispersed the timid camel drivers, the abreks disappear. The faithful horse (priceless suit, golden) takes out the wounded prince from the battle, but he, already in the darkness, is overtaken by an evil stray bullet on the tip of an evil spirit. With a dead master in a saddle embroidered with colored silks, the horse continues to gallop at full speed: the rider, who has dipped his golden mane in the last frenzied shake, must keep the prince's word: ride alive or dead to the wedding feast, and only having reached the gate, falls dead.

There is groaning and crying in the bride's family. Blacker than the clouds, Gudal, he sees God's punishment in what happened. Falling on the bed, as she was - in pearls and brocade, Tamara sobs. And suddenly: a voice. Unfamiliar. Magic. He consoles, calms, heals, tells fairy tales and promises to fly to her every evening - the night flowers barely bloom - so that "on silk eyelashes / Golden dreams evoke ...". Tamara looks around: no one!!! Did it feel like it? But then where is the confusion? Which has no name! In the morning, the princess still falls asleep and sees a strange one - isn't it the first of the promised gold ones? - dream. Shining with unearthly beauty, a certain “alien” is leaning towards her headboard. This is not a guardian angel, there is no luminous halo around his curls, however, he doesn’t seem to look like a fiend either: it’s too sad, he looks with love! And so every night: as soon as the night flowers wake up, it appears. Guessing that it is not someone else that confuses her with an irresistible dream, but the "evil spirit" himself, Tamara asks her father to let her go to the monastery. Gudal gets angry - suitors, one more enviable than the other, besiege their house, and Tamara refuses everyone. Having lost his patience, he threatens a reckless curse. This threat does not stop Tamara either; finally Gudal relents. And here she is in a secluded monastery, but even here, in a sacred monastery, during the hours of solemn prayers, through church singing she hears the same magical voice, in a fog of incense rising to the vaults of a gloomy temple, Tamara sees the same image and the same eyes - irresistible as a dagger.

Having fallen on her knees in front of the divine icon, the poor virgin wants to pray to the saints, and her disobedient heart “prays to Him.” The beautiful sinner is no longer deceived at her own expense: she is not just embarrassed by a vague dream of love, she is in love: passionately, sinfully, as if the night guest who captivated her with unearthly beauty was not an alien from the invisible, immaterial world, but an earthly youth. The demon, of course, understands everything, but, unlike the unfortunate princess, he knows what she does not know: an earthly beauty will pay for a moment of physical closeness with him, an unearthly creature, with death. That's why he hesitates; he is even ready to abandon his criminal plan. At least he thinks so. One night, having already approached the cherished cell, he tries to leave, and in fear he feels that he cannot flap his wing: the wing does not move! Then he sheds a single tear - an inhuman tear burns through the stone.

Realizing that even he, seemingly omnipotent, cannot change anything, the Demon appears to Tamara no longer in the form of an obscure nebula, but incarnated, that is, in the form of albeit winged, but beautiful and courageous man. However, the way to the sleeping Tamara's bed is blocked by her guardian angel and demands that the vicious spirit does not touch his, angelic, shrine. The Demon, smiling slyly, explains to the messenger of paradise that he appeared too late and that in his, the Demon, possessions - where he owns and loves - the cherubs have nothing to do. Tamara, waking up, does not recognize the young man of her dreams in a random guest. She does not like his speeches either - lovely in a dream, in reality they seem dangerous to her. But the Demon opens his soul to her - Tamara is touched by the immensity of the sorrows of the mysterious stranger, now he seems to her a sufferer. And yet, something worries her both in the guise of an alien and in reasoning that is too complicated for her weakening mind. And she, oh holy naivety, asks him to swear that he is not disingenuous, does not deceive her gullibility. And the Demon swears. Whatever he does not swear - and by heaven, which he hates, and by hell, which he despises, and even by the shrine, which he does not have. The Demon's Oath is a brilliant example of male love eloquence - which a man will not promise a woman when the fire of desire burns in his blood! In his "impatience of passion" he does not even notice that he contradicts himself: either he promises to take Tamara to the starry regions and make her the queen of the world, or he assures that it is here, on an insignificant earth, that he will build for her magnificent - from turquoise and amber - palaces. And yet, the outcome of a fatal date is not decided by words, but by the first touch - hot male lips - to trembling female lips. The night watchman of the monastery, making a routine round, slows down his steps: in the cell of the new nun there are unusual sounds, something like "two mouths kissing in agreement." Embarrassed, he stops and hears: first a groan, and then a terrible, albeit weak, like a death cry.

Notified of the death of the heiress, Gudal takes the body of the deceased from the monastery. He firmly decided to bury his daughter in a high-mountain family cemetery, where one of his ancestors, in atonement for many sins, erected a small temple. In addition, he does not want to see his Tamara, even in a coffin, in a coarse hair shirt. By his order, the women of his hearth dress up the princess in the way that they did not dress up on the days of fun. For three days and three nights, higher and higher, a mournful train moves, ahead of Gudal on a snow-white horse. He is silent, and the rest are silent. So many days have passed since the death of the princess, but corruption does not touch her - the color of the brow, as in life, is whiter and cleaner than the bedspread? And this smile, as if frozen on the lips?! Mysterious as her death itself!!! Having given up its peri to the gloomy land, the funeral caravan sets off on its way back... The wise Gudal did everything right! The river of time washed away from the face of the earth both his high house, where his wife bore him a beautiful daughter, and the wide yard where Tamara played a child. And the temple and the cemetery are intact with him, they can still be seen - there, high, at the turn of jagged rocks, because nature, with its highest power, made the grave of the beloved Demon inaccessible to humans.

retold