Every child in the USSR knew the poems of Agnia Barto (1906-1981). Her books were printed in millions of copies. This amazing woman devoted her entire life to children. It can be said without exaggeration that the works of Agnia Barto are familiar to all children who have just learned to speak. Many generations have grown up reading poems about crying Tanya and a bear with a torn paw, and the old film “The Foundling” continues to touch the hearts of modern viewers. The style of her poems, written for preschoolers and primary schoolchildren, is very easy; the poems are not difficult for children to read and memorize. Wolfgang Kazak called them "primitively rhymed." The author seems to be talking to the child in simple everyday language, without lyrical digressions or descriptions - but in rhyme. And he conducts a conversation with little readers, as if the author were their age. Barto’s poems are always on a modern theme, she seems to be telling a story that recently happened, and her aesthetics are characterized by calling characters by name: “Tamara and I”, “Who doesn’t know Lyubochka”, “Our Tanya is crying loudly”, “Leshenka, Lyoshenka, do favor” - it seems that we are talking about well-known Lyoshenka and Tanya, who have such shortcomings, and not at all about child readers. Paying tribute to the large number of wonderful children's poets, one cannot but agree that Agnia Barto occupies a special place in the golden fund of literature.
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| with that same bear? |
More than anything else, Hanna loved poetry and dancing. She recalled about her childhood: “The first impression of my childhood was the high voice of a barrel organ outside the window. For a long time I dreamed of walking around the courtyards and turning the handle of the organ, so that people attracted by the music would look out of all the windows.” She studied at the gymnasium, where, as was customary in intelligent families, she studied French and German. Under the influence of Anna Akhmatova and Vladimir Mayakovsky, she began to write poetic epigrams and sketches - first in a decadent style, and after meeting the poetry of Vladimir Mayakovsky, which she valued very highly throughout her subsequent life, she imitated his style for some time. But Ganna was best at humorous poems, which she read to her family and friends. At the same time, she studied at a ballet school. Then she entered the Moscow Choreographic School, after graduating from which in 1924 she joined the ballet troupe, where she worked for about a year. But the troupe emigrated. Agnia’s father was against her departure, and she remained in Moscow...
However, later, during the Stalin era, when Chukovsky’s children’s poems were subjected to severe persecution, initiated by Nadezhda Konstantinovna Krupskaya, despite the fact that Stalin himself repeatedly quoted “The Cockroach,” inadequate criticism came from Agnia Barto (and from Sergei Mikhalkov too) . Among party critics and editors, the term “Chukovism” even arose. Although other sources say that she did not completely poison Chukovsky, but simply did not refuse to sign some kind of collective paper. In addition, Barto was also seen harassing Marshak. “Barto came to the editorial office and saw proofs of Marshak’s new poems on the table. And he said: “Yes, I can write such poems every day!” To which the editor replied: “I beg you, write them at least every other day...” Here you go quiet!
By this time, Agnia was already married to the children's poet and ornithologist Pavel Nikolayevich Barto, a distant descendant of Scottish emigrants, and with whom she co-authored three poems - “The Roaring Girl,” “The Dirty Girl,” and “The Counting Table.” In 1927, their son Edgar (Igor) was born. Agnia Barto worked hard and fruitfully, and, despite accusations of primitive rhymes and lack of ideological consistency (especially the beautiful mischievous poem “Grubby Girl”), her poems were very popular with readers, and her books were published in millions of copies. Perhaps this was the reason that the marriage of the two poets lasted only 6 years. Perhaps the first marriage did not work out because she was too hasty in getting married, or maybe it was Agnia’s professional success, which Pavel Barto could not and did not want to survive. At the age of 29, Agnia Barto left her husband for a man who became the main love of her life - one of the most authoritative Soviet specialists in steam and gas turbines, dean of the EMF (power engineering faculty) of MPEI (Moscow Energy Institute), thermal physicist Andrei Vladimirovich Shcheglyaev, later a member -correspondent of the USSR Academy of Sciences and winner of the Stalin Prizes. Regarding the married couple Andrei Vladimirovich, who was called “the most beautiful dean of the USSR,” and Agnia Lvovna at the EMF, they jokingly asked: “What is three laureates in one bed?” The answer was: “Shcheglyaev and Barto” (the first was twice a winner of the Stalin Prize, the second - once, in 1950, for the collection “Poems for Children” (1949)). This talented young scientist purposefully and patiently courted the pretty poetess. At first glance, these were two completely different people: the “lyricist” and the “physicist”. Creative, sublime Agnia and heat energy Andrey. But in reality, an extremely harmonious union of two loving hearts was created. According to family members and close friends of Barto, in the almost 50 years that Agnia and Andrei lived together, they never quarreled. Writers, musicians, and actors often visited their house - Agnia Lvovna’s non-conflict character attracted a variety of people. This marriage produced a daughter, Tatyana (1933), now a candidate of technical sciences, who became the heroine of the famous poem about a girl who dropped a ball into the river.
“Mom was the main helmsman in the house, everything was done with her knowledge,” recalls Barto’s daughter, Tatyana Andreevna. “On the other hand, they took care of her and tried to create working conditions - she didn’t bake pies, didn’t stand in lines, but, of course, she was the mistress of the house. Our nanny Domna Ivanovna lived with us all her life, and she came to the house back in 1925, when my older brother Garik was born. She was a very dear person to us - and a hostess in a different, executive sense. Mom always took her into account. For example, she could ask: “Well, how am I dressed?” And the nanny would say: “Yes, that’s possible” or: “That’s a strange thing to do.”
She was non-confrontational, loved practical jokes and did not tolerate arrogance and snobbery. One day she arranged a dinner, set the table, and attached a sign to each dish: “Black caviar - for academicians”, “Red caviar - for corresponding members”, “Crabs and sprats - for doctors of science”, “Cheese and ham - for candidates ", "Vinaigrette - for laboratory assistants and students." They say that the laboratory assistants and students were sincerely amused by this joke, but the academicians did not have enough of a sense of humor - some of them were then seriously offended by Agnia Lvovna.
After the publication of a series of poetic miniatures for little ones “Toys” (1936), “Bullfinch” (1939) and other children’s poems, Barto became one of the most famous and beloved children’s poets by readers, her works were published in huge editions and were included in anthologies. The rhythm, rhymes, images and plots of these poems turned out to be close and understandable to millions of children. Agnia Lvovna received the love of readers and became the object of criticism. Barto recalled: “Toys” was subjected to harsh verbal criticism for its overly complex rhymes. I especially liked the lines:
The minutes of the meeting at which these poems were discussed say: “...The rhymes need to be changed, they are difficult for a children’s poem.”
Agnia Barto wrote the scripts for the films “Foundling” (1939, together with actress Rina Zelena), “Alyosha Ptitsyn Develops Character” (1953), “10,000 Boys” (1961, together with I. Okada), as well as for the Ukrainian film “True Comrade” "(1936, dir. L. Bodik, A. Okunchikov) and others. Together with Rina Zelena, Barto also wrote the play “Dima and Vava” (1940). Her poem “The Rope” was taken by director I. Fraz as the basis for the concept of the film “The Elephant and the Rope” (1945).
Agnia Barto knew that war with Germany was inevitable. In the late 1930s, she traveled to this “neat, clean, almost toy-like country,” heard Nazi slogans, and saw pretty blond girls in dresses “decorated” with swastikas. To her, who sincerely believed in the universal brotherhood of, if not adults, then at least children, all this was wild and scary.
In 1937 she visited Spain as a delegate to the International Congress for the Defense of Culture, which was held in Spain, the sessions of which took place in the besieged, burning Madrid. There was a war going on, and Barto saw ruins of houses and orphaned children. She always had a lot of determination: she saw the target - and forward, without swaying or retreating: once, just before the bombing, she went to buy castanets. The sky howls, the walls of the store bounce, and the writer makes a purchase! But the castanets are real, Spanish - for Agnia, who danced beautifully, this was an important souvenir. Alexei Tolstoy later asked Barto sarcastically: had she bought a fan in that store to fan herself during the next raids? But a conversation with a Spanish woman made a particularly gloomy impression on her, who, showing a photograph of her son, covered his face with her finger - explaining that the boy’s head had been torn off by a shell. “How to describe the feelings of a mother who has outlived her child?” - Agnia Lvovna wrote to one of her friends then. A few years later, she received the answer to this terrible question...
During the war, Shcheglyaev, who by that time had become a prominent power engineer, was sent to the Urals, to Krasnogorsk to ensure its uninterrupted operation - the plants worked for the war. Agnia Lvovna had friends in those parts who invited her to stay with them. So the family - son, daughter with nanny Domna Ivanovna - settled in Sverdlovsk. In Sverdlovsk, Agnia Barto was settled on 8 March Street in the so-called House of Old Bolsheviks. It was built in 1932 specifically for the party elite. Some apartments exceeded one hundred square meters in area, and a dining room, laundry, club and kindergarten were available to VIP residents. During the Great Patriotic War, important party workers and celebrities evacuated to the Urals began to move here en masse.
The son studied at a flight school near Sverdlovsk, the daughter went to school. At this time, Agnia Lvovna writes about herself: “During the Great Patriotic War, I spoke a lot on the radio in Moscow and Sverdlovsk. She published war poems, articles, and essays in newspapers. In 1943, she was on the Western Front as a correspondent for Komsomolskaya Pravda. But I never stopped thinking about my main, young hero. During the war, I really wanted to write about Ural teenagers who worked at the machines at defense factories, but for a long time I could not master the topic. Pavel Petrovich Bazhov [famous revolutionary storyteller, "Ural Tales"] advised me, in order to better understand the interests of artisans and, most importantly, their psychology, to acquire a specialty with them, for example, a turner. Six months later I received a discharge, really. The lowest. But I got closer to the topic that worried me (“A student is coming,” 1943).” She mastered turning and even received a second rank, and Agniya Lvovna donated the bonus she received during the war to build a tank. In February 1943, Shcheglyaev was recalled from Krasnogorsk to Moscow and allowed to travel with his family. They returned, and Agniya Lvovna again began to seek a trip to the front. Here's what she wrote about it: “It wasn’t easy to get permission from the PUR. I turned to Fadeev for help.
- I understand your desire, but how can I explain the purpose of your trip? - he asked. - They will tell me: - she writes for children.
- And tell me that you can’t write about war for children without seeing anything with your own eyes. And then... they send readers to the front with funny stories. Who knows, maybe my poems will come in handy? Soldiers will remember their children, and those who are younger will remember their childhood.”
A travel order was received, but Agniya Lvovna worked in the active army for 22 days.
In 1944, the poetess returned to Moscow. 4 days before the long-awaited Victory, on May 5, 1945, a tragedy occurred in the poetess’s family - her son Igor, while riding a bicycle, was hit by a truck in Lavrushinsky Lane (Moscow). Agnia Lvovna’s friend Evgenia Aleksandrovna Taratuta recalled that Agnia Lvovna completely retreated into herself these days. She didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't talk...
In 1947, an unexpected poem in Barto’s work, “Zvenigorod,” was published, idyllically depicting the life of children in an orphanage. Of course, the content of the poem conveyed the real atmosphere of orphanages in a rather idealized way, but this work had an unexpected response. A woman who spent eight years searching for her daughter Nina, who disappeared during the war, wrote to Barto that she now felt better because she hoped that the girl ended up in a good orphanage. Although the letter did not contain any requests for help, the poetess contacted the appropriate services, and after two years of searching, Nina was found. The magazine "Ogonyok" published an essay about this event, and Agnia Lvovna began to receive many letters from people who had lost relatives during the war, although there was not always enough data for searching. Agnia Lvovna wrote: “What was to be done? Should we transfer these letters to special organizations? But for an official search, accurate data is needed. But what if they are not there, if the child was lost when he was small and couldn’t say where and when he was born, couldn’t even say his last name?! Such children were given new surnames, and the doctor determined their age. How can a mother find a child who has long since become an adult if his last name has been changed? And how can an adult find his family if he doesn’t know who he is and where he comes from? But people do not calm down, they look for parents, sisters, brothers for years, they believe that they will find them. The following thought occurred to me: could childhood memory help in the search? A child is observant, he sees sharply, accurately and remembers what he sees for life. It is only important to select those main and always somewhat unique childhood impressions that would help relatives recognize the lost child.” For example, a woman who was lost during the war as a child remembered that she lived in Leningrad and that the name of the street began with “o”, and next to the house there was a bathhouse and a store. Barto's team searched for such a street without success. They found an old bath attendant who knew all the Leningrad baths. As a result, by method of elimination, they found out that there was a bathhouse on Serdobolskaya Street - the “o” in the name of the girl was remembered... In another case, parents who lost their four-month-old daughter during the war only remembered that the child had a mole on his shoulder that looked like a rose . Naturally, they did not know the name under which their daughter lived after the war. But the only clue worked: residents of a Ukrainian village called the program and reported that one of their neighbors had a mole that looked like a rose...
Agnia Lvovna’s hopes for the power of childhood memories were justified. Through the “Find a Person” program, which she hosted once a month for nine years (1964-1973) on Mayak radio, reading excerpts from letters describing individual signs or fragmentary memories of lost people, she managed to reunite 927 families separated by the war. The first book of prose by the writer is called “Find a Person.” Barto wrote her first book of prose about this work - the story “Find a Person” (published in 1968), and in 1973 director Mikhail Bogin made the film “Looking for a Person” based on this book.
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| the same autograph |
Other awards:
Agnia Lvovna loved her grandchildren Vladimir and Natalya very much, dedicated poems to them, and taught them to dance. She remained active for a long time, traveled a lot around the country, played tennis and danced on her 75th birthday. Agnia Barto died on April 1, 1981, having not recovered from a heart attack, and barely having time to rejoice at the birth of her great-granddaughter Asya. After the autopsy, the doctors were shocked: the vessels turned out to be so weak that it was not clear how the blood had been flowing into the heart for the last ten years. Agnia Barto once said: “Almost every person has moments in life when he does more than he can.” In her case, it wasn’t just a minute—she lived her whole life this way. The poetess is buried at the Novodevichy cemetery (site No. 3). The name Agnia Barto was given to the small planet (2279) Barto, located between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter, as well as to one of the craters on Venus.
On the Internet, Agnia Barto is credited with the poem “Circus,” allegedly written in 1957. This poem was copied by many bloggers in 2010. In fact, the verse was written in 2009 by the poet Mikhail Yudovsky. Here we can draw parallels with the poem “Volodin Portrait”, actually written by Agnia Barto in 1957.
We're going to the circus today!
In the arena again today
With a trained Bear
Tamer Uncle Vova.
The circus goes numb with delight.
I want to laugh, holding on to my dad,
But the Bear does not dare to growl,
Just sucks a funny paw,
He takes himself by the scruff of the neck,
It is important to bow to the children.
How funny it is at the circus
With Uncle Vova and the Bear!
Volodin portrait
Runners standing in the photo
With numbers on the chest.
Someone familiar is ahead -
This is Vova in front.
Volodya was filmed weeding,
And at the holiday, on the Christmas tree,
And on a boat by the river,
And at the chessboard.
It was filmed with a hero pilot!
We'll open another magazine
He stands among the swimmers.
Who is he after all?
What does he do?
Because he is filming!
A. Barto, 1957
In our time, the poems of Agnia Barto have received a “second life”, in particular in the illustrations of Vladimir Kamaev:
Ball Our Tanya cries loudly: | Our Tanya howled again: I dropped the hairdryer in the jacuzzi. It hisses strangely underwater - Get into the bath, Tanyusha! |
bear Dropped the teddy bear on the floor | They dropped Mishka on the floor, He was an adult - he didn’t cry. Mikhail lay down specifically: Bros invested in the cops. |
Goby The bull is walking, swaying, | There's a bull coming - a scary face, Trouble struck again. Oh, damn, yesterday's arrow It didn't work out again. |
Elephant Time to sleep! The bull fell asleep | After drinking, the bulls sleep, Their mobile calls stopped. Mishka is also fast asleep, It's just a bummer for me with sleep. I'm a security guard - I don't sleep well... And I always dream about a woman. |
Bunny The owner abandoned the bunny - | The owner kicked out the “bunny”: He did not sleep with the owner "Bunny". You doomed "Bunny", damn it, Be homeless without registration. |
horse I love my horse | I love my chick so much Even if your hair is like a broom... On March 8th, fig. I'll give her a wig. |
Truck No, we shouldn't have decided | No, we shouldn't have decided Lyokh, sleeping in the car, What if I burn you to the ground - The car was cool! |
Kid I have a little goat, | If only a little goat could live with me, Why is my roommate a goat? I'll give him a green buck, - If only he would go to hell! I should sew it in the garden - I want to live with a young man! |
Ship Tarpaulin, | Baseball cap on the tower Bottle in hand I'm sailing on a yacht Along a clear river. And the girls are heard A cry from the shore: - Take it at least for the stolnik We're in bulk, man! |
Airplane We'll build the plane ourselves | We'll buy the plane ourselves We no longer need sleighs, A lot of money in your pocket... We are with you, oligarchs! |
Checkbox Burning in the sun | It was red, I remember checkbox, Yes Borya Yeltsin He was burned! |
I. Technical progress
Objections to progress have always amounted to accusations of immorality.
Bernard Show
Rubber Zina
Bought in a store
Rubber Zina
They brought it to the apartment.
The purchase was taken out
Inflated with a pump -
This same Zina
There was an inflatable valve.
It was like a real one
Talking toy
And in the sense of belongings
Everything about it was okay:
Like melons were titi
(Sorry for comparisons!),
Elastic also
And they smelled like mignonette;
And in the right place of risk,
Two lunar half-disks
You were clearly promised
Fire and heat of passion.
And, by the way, Zina,
Like a sultry girl
I could, sorry
Depict orgasm:
Moaned and sobbed,
And she turned up the heat,
And even kissed
By God, I'm not lying!
They gave Zina Styopa,
Big Klutz,
Because the beauties
Had no success.
Stepan served in the mentura,
And even an obvious fool
It didn’t come to my head
To please Stepan.
And here there is no market
(Just a “thing” – a couple!)
Will replace the capricious floor
Inflatable sample!
Another thing that was appreciated by the ment:
The doll was never seen
Provide you with a surprise -
Venus, for example;
I didn't ask for gifts
And I didn’t wear fur coats,
Recognized rivals -
At least put them next to each other!
And the main thing is that mothers-in-law
No relics observed:
Zinulenka without mom
They were born.
There was only one thing bad:
Zinulya is incompetent
In terms of culinary
And he had a reputation as a cook;
I didn’t know naval borscht,
But in carnal pleasures
Her, as they say,
At least eat it with a spoon!
And, however, in the technical age
Us soon cute
Some scientist
Ersatz will invent;
It will have everything you need
For a married girl,
In addition, it will also be able
Wash, cook, wash.
Will not give birth to children,
But there won’t be enough of us:
They will clone us
From night to dawn...
Who's interested here?
And time-savvy,
Of course, he will ask for the address -
Where can I buy all this?
I will tell everyone without hiding:
While all this is just stories,
But guys everything will be soon
They will know that address.
II. Metamorphoses
Our Tanya cries loudly:
Lost - no, not the ball -
And a business card to the fellow,
The local mafia to my father.
Godfather assigned her
Arrive at your office by eight
But the devil, damn it,
I thought completely differently.
What’s unfortunate: even more so for her
Don't be in secret rooms,
And in Versace outfits
Don't show off at the table
Don't go to restaurants -
New life to drink wine,
And then, in a drunken stupor,
Fall deeper and deeper to the bottom.
How, beautiful, not ashamed
To shed such tears!..
The boss will find it - it’s so obvious! –
Very soon your address...
III. Prodigies
It was in the evening
There was nothing to do...
And a bunch of kids
About six years old, or maybe five,
Excommunicated from books
I was going to chat
About the various objects there -
At least about ancestors, for example...
It was summer outside
Red like a pioneer:
The sun was going down like a ball,
Nimble swifts in the sky
With the skill of a polygamist
They made turns...
In a word, everything was in place
To revelations for children;
Much has been said or little has been said
But I came to the yard
This babble seems to be childish,
Somewhere even funny,
Only the Soviet spirit was visible
In every story there is a mischievous...
Kolya was the first to speak:
“If it were my will,
First of all, I decided
Twist ropes from veins
Those who deprive us of our childhood,
And without false coquetry
All, with one noose,
Sent to heaven by the unearthly..."
Here Vova seemed to assent:
“I’m putting a noose on everyone – what’s wrong?..
I know a more radical way
I am for the execution of all channels:
Buy a lot of chewing gum
Chew and stuff your mouth
To all the nasty politicians,
Who is half-drunk with zeal
He paints us an earthly paradise...
Whoever dies - to hell with you!..
There’s no point in beating up grandma,
And caulk our brains!..”
Vlad intervened (oh, and the doc!):
“Oh, guys, how cruel
There will be this and that revenge!..
I have another one:
Uncles, aunts of all the bad ones
We will send to the Moon!..”
That's how Vlad is!.. I'm stunned!..
I was puzzled!.. Well, well!..
The guys thought:
Where can I get a ship like this?
So that all the inveterate liars
Send on an unearthly journey?..
Look how many of them have accumulated:
They're all liars - no matter what!
Svetka was fussing here:
“It’s June now,
If we make a fuss,
And don't waste your time,
That dream can come true
On the eve of October...
And now - closer to the body,
As de Maupassant joked,
We will close this topic -
The rocket will be launched!
For this all you need
We have about five billions..."
They unanimously supported Svetka:
“UNESCO can give them!..”
...It was in the evening
There was nothing to do
And childish fantasy
Flooded like a river...
This is not bullshit
My dear bourgeois!..
IV. Goat and vine for Grandson Feda
From one nostril to the nose
I will bring a goat into the world,
I'll milk the goat -
Give milk to relatives.
And in the other nostril, a goat,
The vine grows for you:
You will pluck leaves -
One two three four five…
The goat ate them all -
The vine became bare...
We won’t grieve with a goat -
We'll get new ones tomorrow...
© Copyright: Anatoly Beshentsev, 2014 Certificate of publication No. 214061900739
Of course, Tanya and her ball got the most of it:
* * *
Our Tanya is crying loudly
Days and nights to fly by:
Tanya's husband drowned in the river -
So he howls like a coyote.
Doesn't whine, but moans quietly,
He who does not see - he who does not see:
The husband is shit - shit doesn’t drown,
Hush, Tanya, don't cry...
Our Tanya is crying loudly,
She dropped a ball into the river.
Tanya, don’t shed tears,
Dive in and catch up!
Our Tanya is drowning in the river -
Jumped for the ball.
Rings float on the water
A round little ball.
Our Tanya is crying loudly,
She dropped Masha into the river.
Hush, Tanechka, don't cry,
Crying won't help Masha.
Our Tanya at the factory
Spends all holidays.
So, Tanya, would you like a ball?
Have a look at the factory!
Our Tanya early in the morning
I turned two blanks.
- Here, boss, look:
There are three of us dummies!
Our Tanya barks loudly
He often lifts his leg.
Hush, Tanechka, don't bark!
Call the paramedics!
Our Tanya snores loudly
Woke up mom and dad!
Hush, Tanya, don't snore!
Sleep with your head in the pillow!
Our Tanya is very loud
She sent Romka far away.
That's enough, Roma, don't be silly,
If they sent you, then go!
Our Tanya cries loudly:
Tanya was abandoned by a burning macho.
Hush, Tanechka, don't cry,
There are so many of them, these guys.
Our Tanya calls the cat,
Pokes the cat's nose into the pile,
Because this cat
She made us a little naughty.
Our Tanya is torturing the cat,
The cat meows pitifully.
Hush, little kitty, don't cry,
Otherwise you’ll catch the ball!
A Khachik comes to see our Tanya,
Moldovan, Armenian.
Don't be alarmed, this means -
Tanya is doing repairs.
Our Tanya is crying loudly.
Tanya got pregnant, that means.
Don't cry and don't fuss,
Go and have an ultrasound.
Our Tanya timidly hides
The body is fat in the rocks.
Okay, Tanya, don't hide,
Everyone can still see you.
Our Tanya is crying loudly.
The female doctor is puzzled:
- Explain to me, don’t cry:
How did the ball end up here?
Our Tanya at the apartment
Dropped the weights on the floor.
And today our neighbor
Eats lime for lunch.
Our Tanya is waiting for a soldier,
Her candidate for groom.
That's enough, Tanya, don't wait,
Marry your neighbor!
Our Tanya is crying bitterly
Crying, crying, crying, crying.
A stream of tears per meter around
Tanya peels bitter onions.
Our Tanya laughs and jumps.
No, not our Tanya, that is.
Ours should roar,
Apparently this is not her.
© 2007 "Red Burda"
How could famous poets say about this grief?
ANDREY KROTKOV
Horace:
Tatyana sobs loudly, her grief is inconsolable;
Tears stream down from the pink-flamed cheeks;
She indulged in girlish games in the garden carefree -
The mischievous woman could not hold the ball in her thin fingers;
A frisky horse jumped out and rushed down the slope,
Slipping off the edge of the cliff, he fell into a stormy foamy stream.
Dear maiden, do not cry, your loss can be healed;
There is a command for the slaves to bring fresh water;
They are persistent, they are brave, they are accustomed to any kind of work -
They will boldly swim, and the ball will return to you.
Alexander Blok:
Tatyana sobs inconsolably,
And a tear, like blood, is hot;
She got a heartbreak
From a ball falling into a river.
Now he sighs intermittently, now he groans,
Remembering the past game.
Do not worry. Your ball won't sink -
We'll get it tonight.
Vladimir Mayakovsky:
In this world
Nothing
Not forever,
And now
Swear or cry:
Straight from the shore
Fell into the river
Tanya girls
Ball.
Tears are flowing
From Tanya's eyes.
Do not Cry!
Do not be
A whiny maiden!
Let's go get some water -
And we'll get the ball.
Left!
Left!
Left!
Ivan Krylov:
A certain girl named Tatyana,
Fair in mind and without blemish in body,
In the village the days are spent,
I couldn’t imagine spending time without a ball.
Either he will give in with his foot, or he will push with his hand,
And, having played with him, he doesn’t even half hear.
The Lord did not save us, there was a disaster -
The playful ball fell into the abyss of water.
Unhappy Tatyana sobs and sheds tears;
And the water carrier Kuzma is the one who is always half drunk -
Kartuz pulled off
And taco rivers:
“Yes, that’s enough, young lady! This misfortune is not grief.
Here I’ll harness Sivka, and soon I’ll get some water
I'll run at a gallop.
My hook is sharp, my bucket is spacious -
From the river I skillfully and quickly
I'll get the ball."
Moral: simple water carriers are not so simple.
He who knows a lot about water calms tears.
***
NATALIA FEDORENKO
Robert Burns:
Tanya lost her ball..
What will you take from her?
Tanya kissed Johnny..
Is this a lie?
Tanyusha has sadness in her heart:
Can't get the ball...
There will be someone at the river again
Kiss Johnny..
***
ARKADY EIDMAN
Boris Pasternak:
The ball bounced on the wave,
Her ramming.
On the shore, on an old stump
Tanya was sobbing.
Drown the ball? And in a nightmare,
No, I didn't want to!
And therefore on this stump
She roared...
But the ball is not a miss and not a sucker,
There will be no drowning.
Is the parodist good or bad?
The people will judge...
Bulat Okudzhava:
A ball is playing in the river. Plays and frolics.
He is full of thoughts and strength, he is round and he is rosy.
And there, on the shore, the girls burst into tears,
The chorus of grieving Tatianas sobs in unison...
The ball doesn't care, it swims like a fish
Or maybe like a dolphin, or maybe like... a ball.
He shouts to Tatyana: “If only we could add more smiles!”
But a friendly cry comes in response from the shore...
***
IRINA KAMENSKAYA
Yunna Moritz:
Tanya walked along the canal,
Tatyanka has a new ball.
The music played quietly
On Ordynka, on Polyanka.
The ball goes into the water. Didn't catch up.
Tears slide down your cheeks.
The music played quietly
On Polyanka, on Ordynka.
Mom wiped away her tears
Stupid little Tatyanka.
The music played quietly
On Ordynka, on Polyanka
***
ILYA TSEITLIN
Alexander Tvardovsky:
River, far bank right,
The ball floated away from the left.
Where can I find the government, right?
Who would return the ball?
After all, without a ball the girl
On Russian shores
It's no good hanging around
Without a toy, it's a mess!
Tanya whines, drinks vodka,
Look, a fighter with a ball! Not a dream!
It was Andryusha Krotkov,
It was, of course, him!
Poetically hot
And as powerful as a tram!
Tanya forgot her ball,
Give Tanya some lyrics!
Arseny Tarkovsky:
Those were drops of burning tears,
Almost silent, bitter crying.
By chance, cooler
The ball rolled into the abyss of water.
An unhealed wound...
To the sound of the water draining
I often see Tatyana
And there are her traces by the river...
Bulat Okudzhava:
In the yard, where every evening
Tanka was playing with a ball,
The line of grandmas rustled like husks,
Black Angel – Valka Perchik,
She ran the booth
And they called her Baba Yaga!
And wherever I go
(Nowadays, however, I eat more)
On business or otherwise, for a walk.
Everything seems to me that
Valka runs on the trail,
And he tries to take the ball away.
Let him be shabby and bald,
Tired, overly fat,
I will never return to the yard.
Still, brothers, it’s my fault,
Without jokes, I'm terribly bored,
So I’m glad to joke sometimes!
***
TAIL
Afanasy Fet:
In a rush of heating mains, the only one rolled down
Tannin's beloved ball.
Everything was stunned by the not childishly warlike
Cry.
Was this a simple goodbye?
Nobody understood Tanya.
What should the techies get as punishment?
What?
The ball will not sink and the devil will not be baptized,
Walk along the heating main -
The hole in the pipe will soon open again!
Wait!
Igor Severyanin:
In a jaguar cape,
Violet from grief,
Tatiana is crying at sea,
Oh, Tanya, don’t cry!
Our friend the rubber ball
Doesn't see this grief
It's great to be empty inside
And the river is not an executioner.
***
BELKA (guest from Hochmodrom)
Sergey Yesenin:
Tanyusha was good, there was no more beautiful woman in the village,
Red frilly on white sundress at the hem.
Tanya walks behind the fences by the ravine in the evening,
And he kicks the ball with his foot - he loves a strange game.
A guy came out and bowed his curly head:
“Allow me, soul Tatyana, to kick him too?”
She turned pale like a shroud, cold like dew.
Her braid developed like a snake-killer.
"Oh, blue-eyed guy, no offense, I'll say
I kicked him, but now I can’t find him.”
“Don’t be sad, my Tanyusha, apparently the ball has sunk,
If you love me, I will immediately dive for him."
Alexander Pushkin:
Tatiana, dear Tatiana!
With you now I shed tears:
The river is deep and foggy,
Your wonderful toy
I accidentally dropped it from a bridge...
Oh, how you loved this ball!
You cry bitterly and call...
Do not Cry! You will find your ball
He won't drown in a stormy river,
After all, the ball is not a stone, not a log,
He won't sink to the bottom,
Its seething stream drives
Flows through the meadow, through the forest
To the dam of a nearby hydroelectric power station.
Mikhail Lermontov:
The lonely ball turns white
In the fog of a blue river -
Ran away from Tanya, not far away,
Left my native shore...
The waves are playing, the wind is whistling,
And Tanya cries and screams,
She is stubbornly looking for her ball,
He runs after him along the shore.
Below him is a stream of lighter azure,
Above him is a golden ray of sun...
And he, the rebellious one, asks for a storm,
As if there is peace in the storms!
Nikolay Nekrasov:
Tanya cried as she dropped the ball,
She sobbed bitterly, drooping without strength,
She washed her cheeks with burning tears.
A ball on a slope by a playful greyhound
I rolled into the river, and the river is babbling,
He twirls the toy, doesn’t want to put it back
Give the ball to the cute little girl.
There would be trouble. May my mother console me
Poor Tanya: “Well, that’s enough shouting!
We need to rock Arinushka in the unsteady state,
We need to pull carrots in the garden,
Stop prancing around free
Throwing the ball, splashing your hands!”
Women, rinsing clothes on the river,
They saw the ball floating on the waves,
And they stopped rinsing involuntarily.
- Look, the empty toy doesn’t sink!
- Look how it floats. It’s unlikely to stick here,
Will the current wash towards the ferry?
- We must tell the carrier Prov,
What if he catches you... Oh, women, it's time!
I hear the redhead mooing near the yard!
So this is Tanyushin's laughing day
A gloomy shadow hid the losses.
Tannins full of life on the cheeks
Sad faded, covered with tears,
The young soul was burned with sadness.
The ball floated away, which means childhood is over.
Margarita Shulman
I was a little boy, and in those years more than once
I listened to Tanya’s story about the missing ball,
How he fell and floated down the river for show
Multi-colored rubber ball.
And the soul painted pictures in melancholy:
How I am waiting for Tanya on the river with the ball,
And the rubber friend sleeps with a wave on his cheek,
Well, Tanya is crying loudly in the distance.
Since then I have been realizing my dream:
Tanya's ball floated away, and I sing a song,
I publish poems, I save royalties,
And I’m incredibly happy with fate!
Voluptuous poison - Tannin motley ringing ball -
And the toy, and the feeder, and the loss...
There was a powerful, very mournful cry about you.
Even though I myself don’t believe in this grief (Tanya, darling, forgive me!)...
In the style of R. Rozhdestvensky.
I'll get up before dawn today,
I'll look for Tanya's ball in the closet.
Something happened to my memory:
I can't find it in my hat.
I'll go out to the river with her,
I'll look around the entire shore.
Where is your ball, my otter,
It's worth that kind of money!
And Tatyana roars with bitterness,
Points his finger at the bushes by the river.
Apparently the ball sank and did not surface last night,
Either a thunderstorm or the ball was carried away by strangers.
In the style of V. Korostylev, V. Lifshits.
Ah, Tanya, Tanya, Tanechka,
Her case was like this:
Our Tanya played
Over the fast river.
And the ball is red and blue
Jumped along the shore
Pay attention to Tanya
Nobody paid any attention.
Can't be!
Imagine this!
Nobody paid any attention.
But then the storm frowned,
And ripples all over the river,
Thunderclaps are menacing,
Lightning in the distance.
And Tanya became scared,
And no one around...
And the ball slipped out of my hands
And run on water!
And here again above the river
The crying doesn't stop:
Tanya is sad about the past
And he remembers the ball.
Elastic, blue-red,
There's no trace of him...
Ah, Tanya, Tanya, Tanya
There is no worse loss.
Can't be!
Imagine this!
There is no worse loss.
In the style of S. Yesenin.
You are my obedient ball, you are a playful ball,
Why are you lying, swaying, on a playful wave?
Or what did you see, or are you so bored?
Tanya is crying loudly, you don’t notice.
And you threaten the local hooligans from there,
Like a forbidden buoy, like Tanya’s watchman.
Oh, and I myself looked askance today,
Instead of a fast river, I fell into the reeds.
There I met Tanya, in inconsolable crying,
He consoled me in his arms, I couldn’t do otherwise...
He seemed experienced and strict to himself,
Not drunk at all, not even wretched.
And, having lost modesty, having become stupefied,
I drowned that little blue, striped ball...
Mayakovsky "Proletarian Tears"
Night. Street. River. Fall.
Uncontrollable prolonged crying,
The young creature is shocked,
Suddenly lost not just a ball...
The soul ached and suffered,
While carrying the toy into the distance.
Night. Icy ripples of the channel.
Tatiana. Tears. Bridge. Sadness.
Omar Khayyam
And these days, even laugh, or even cry,
You will see Tanya's ball on the river.
Let them say - I'm blind, I won't judge -
A blind person sees further than those who can see.
Petrarch
There was a day on which, according to the Creator of the universe
Grieving, the sun darkened - a bitter cry
On the river bank. floating ball
And the maiden face - I became their prisoner!
Did I guess that in the dispute between light and shadow
Chance will bring us together - an angel and an executioner,
That the tender arrows of love are hot fire
And cold-hearted at the same time?
Still, Cupid achieved his goal -
Limp next to her and unarmed,
I adore her pleading look.
I’ll get the ball, oh happiness - it’s nearby,
And we, wiping away the tears from our pearly eyes,
Let's go with you, dear, to the altar.
A child's cry is heard near the river:
Half a mile from this event,
Quite a wet, dirty ball
Nailed to the willows. Well-groomed and satisfying
A rook looks at the misadventure from a branch.
If only the Almighty would give me more agility...
What's left for me to do, cry with Tanya too?
Child, I know God will help you!
D. Prigov
If, say, in a local river you see a children's ball
And you will hear a nasty cry, I would even say a howl,
Don't touch him, buddy, he's not money or netsuke -
Just a girl's toy, well, that means it's not yours.
But when no crying is heard and her face is not seen,
And along the river, as before, the poor ball floats,
Don't doubt it anymore, he's completely, completely nobody's,
It might come in handy tomorrow - take it and hide it.
Ya. Smelyakov
Along the small houses beckons
Cool, midsummer, stream.
Good girl Tanya,
Shielding yourself from the sun's rays
With a hand stained with silt,
Drops tears into the grass.
The luminary suffers with her,
Sadness of the blue skies.
Reflecting in the stream water,
The boy is in a hurry to help.
The girl, I guess, is not a stranger -
Factory... Let it not be known,
Reader, but this is a sign
(Anyone in the village will tell you):
To the ball saved by the answer
There will be girlish love.
Folk. Ditty
My darling is hot
Use your brains better:
If you don't get the ball,
There's no way you'll get it at night.
Japanese version. Haiku
Tanya-chan lost her face
Crying about the ball rolling into the pond.
Pull yourself together, daughter of a samurai.
Our Tanya is crying loudly.
She dropped a ball into the river.
Tanya cry louder -
The damn ball floats away.
Life goes over the edge
At least lie down and die.
In the morning at Tatiana's school
I had a headache or something.
And he and his friend Ira
We drank a little beer.
After the fifth glass
The director found them.
Tanya got angry about something
And since I was
In a state of susceptibility -
Then she sent her off with obscenities.
The headmistress got wound up
In general, the fight began.
Well, somehow drunk there,
Tatyana's nose was broken.
The point is not that the eye is blackened -
Her heart hurts.
Tanya without warning
The guy left on Sunday.
How can you not hang yourself here?
In the fourth month.
Everything would be fine
If only I knew from whom.
Later Tanya walked home
She carried the ball in front of her.
There were few failures.
Dropped a ball into the river...
Exactly 33 years ago she left, leaving her readers with the most valuable thing she had - children's poems, which became an obligatory component of the childhood of literally each of us. She was always attentive to the opinions of her listeners/readers, but never allowed herself to be pushed around or led. She had a terrible test - losing her own son, but at the same time a great joy - helping to reunite families separated and scattered throughout the country by the war. She was an incredibly modest person, but at the same time she was not afraid to argue with the “eminent, recognized and deserved”, and at the same time to play pranks on them...
Getel Leibovna Volova Born into a family of a veterinarian and a housewife. Oddly enough, the daughter was mainly raised by her father, who passionately dreamed of seeing his Agnia on the stage of the Bolshoi Theater... on pointe shoes. Yes, yes, despite her obvious talent for poetry, her entire childhood and youth were spent in dance classes and on stage.
The father tried to give his daughter a good education at home before she entered the gymnasium, and at the same time, all the conditions were created in the family so that the girl could fully practice ballet. Actually, studying at the ballet studio turned out to be a fateful event in her life. Firstly, it was here that Agnia met her future first husband, Pavel Barto. Secondly, again here - at the graduation party - her poetic debut took place (Agniya performed her own poem “Funeral March”). And thirdly, among the audience at the same graduation party was the People's Commissar of Education A.V. Lunacharsky, who advised the girl to focus on children's - funny - poems. Which is what she did.
After her ballet troupe emigrated, Agnia took up poetry seriously (especially since the passion for versification was in her blood - the girl’s uncle, the famous otolaryngologist and phthisiatrician G.I. Blokh, at one time wrote children’s educational poems, and Agnia herself began writing at the age of four). And her main assistant in this matter was her husband, a passionate admirer of poetry, Pavel Barto. Together they wrote several poems (“The Roaring Girl,” “The Dirty Girl,” and “The Counting Table”), and Agnia’s first collection, “Chinese Little Wang Li,” was instantly sold out.
It seemed that such a successful debut could become a real creative union. But, alas, apart from the love of poetry, Pavel and Agnia had no common points of intersection. Even the status of parents (in 1927 their son Edgar was born) did not help save the marriage.
War... Like for many, it occupies a special position in the life of Agnia Lvovna. She could not stay on the sidelines, sit in the rear - her conscience would not allow it. She was not allowed to go to the front, but that did not stop her. She managed to become a correspondent for Komsomolskaya Pravda and, in this position, visit the front line, visit hospitals and read her poems there. And then...
After the war, “Mayak” and the monthly “Find a Person” programs awaited her. It all started by accident, and all thanks to poetry. One day, in distant Karaganda, a woman came across Agnia Barto’s book “Zvenigorod” - a poem written under the impression of trips to orphanages and many years of communication with orphaned children. The poem was the story of the boy Nikita, who turned out to be the son of that same woman. So, in the life of Agnia Barto, meaning again appeared - to help children and parents separated by the war find each other. This was especially important for the poet, because Agnia herself had to endure a terrible tragedy - her son Edgar died by an absurd accident at the age of 18. With the advent of the program, Agnia Lvovna was able to drown out the pain at least for a short time, and the number 13, contrary to all signs and prejudices, became happy for her, because it was on the 13th of every month that she told millions of listeners that another baby had found his parents after so many years ...
Despite her difficult fate and rather complex character, those who knew Agnia Barto closely noted that she was a woman with an amazing sense of humor and ingenuity. It didn’t cost her anything to go to the pharmacy in wild ice... on a suitcase for tennis accessories, pushing off with her arms and legs, and at the same time “give” a fellow traveler. Or, for example, immediately after the broadcast, call Irakli Andronnikov “and, supposedly on behalf of the literary editor, ask the question why he held it upside down when showing the photograph, and at the same time invite him to a program with the participation of Leo Tolstoy’s contemporaries...”
She valued the opinions of her readers; she could call her friends in the middle of the night or hold up a plumber who came to fix pipes in order to read them her new poem and listen to everything they had to say. She was not embarrassed by the social status of people - she could, without being embarrassed by a raised tone, argue with such famous poets as Sergei Mikhalkov, but at the same time humbly listen to criticism about her appearance from the housekeeper - she simply respected them. She was lucky, after so many trials, to find her True Love, become a mother again, become famous throughout the country and become the favorite children's poet of all time...
Agnia Lvovna Barto was born in Moscow on February 17, 1906. According to some reports, at birth the girl’s name was Getel Leibovna Volova. Agnia was born into an educated family of Jewish origin. Her father was Lev Nikolaevich Volov, a veterinarian, and Maria Ilyinichna Volova (nee Bloch), who after the birth of her daughter took up housekeeping.
The girl's father was very fond of Krylov's fables and since childhood his daughter regularly read them to her at night. He taught his little daughter to read from a book. Agnia’s father was very fond of the works of the classic of Russian literature, so for his first birthday he gave his daughter a book entitled “How Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy Lives and Works.”
Even in early childhood, Agnia began writing poetry. As the poetess herself later admitted, in the first grades of the gymnasium she paid tribute to love themes: she covered more than one page with naive poetic stories about “marquises and pages in love.” However, the girl quickly got tired of writing poems about languid beauties and their ardent lovers, and gradually such poems in her notebooks were replaced by bold epigrams for her friends and teachers.
Like all children from intelligent families of those times, Barto studied German and French and went to a prestigious gymnasium. In addition, she entered the choreographic school, intending to become a ballerina. At the same time, the financial situation of the Jewish family, and even in the conditions of the October Revolution, left much to be desired. Therefore, at the age of 15, Agnia forged documents, increasing her age by a year, and became a salesperson in the Clothes store (its employees were given herring heads from which they could cook soup).
One day, the People's Commissar of Education, Anatoly Lunacharsky, visited the choreographic school where Agnia Barto studied. He came to the graduation tests of the school students and, among other things, heard how the young poetess, to the accompaniment of music, read out a very impressive poem of her own composition, “Funeral March.” Although the work was by no means humorous, Lunacharsky could hardly restrain himself from laughing and confidently declared that the girl would write beautiful, cheerful and joyful poetry.
In 1924, Agniya Lvovna completed her studies at the choreographic school and successfully entered the ballet troupe. However, she still failed to build a successful career on stage: the troupe emigrated, and Agnia’s father did not agree to let her leave Moscow.
The poetess brought her first works to Gosizdat in 1925. “The Thief Bear” and “Chinese Little Wang Li” were liked by the publishing house, and the poems were published. This was followed by collections of poems “Toys”, “Brothers”, “Boy on the contrary”, “Bullfinch”, “Chatterbox” and many others.
The works of the young poetess quickly ensured her great popularity among Soviet readers. She was not a fan of fables, but created humorous and satirical images and ridiculed human shortcomings. Her poems were read not as boring lectures, but as funny teases, and thanks to this they were much closer to children than the works of many other children's poets of the early 20th century.
At the same time, Agnia Lvovna always remained a very modest and shy person. So, she was crazy about him, but at the first meeting with him she didn’t even dare to open her mouth. However, later a conversation about children's poetry between Barto and Mayakovsky did take place, and Agnia learned a lot from it for her future work. And when I listened to one of Agnia’s poems, she stated that it was written by a five-year-old boy. The conversation with her was no less exciting for the writer.
Both in her youth and in her more mature years, Agnia Lvovna was distinguished by a kind of linguistic perfectionism. One day she went to a book congress that was held in Brazil. She had to give a report, translated into English. However, Barto repeatedly changed the text of the Russian version of her speech, which almost drove the translator crazy.
During the war years, Agnia Barto and her family were evacuated to Sverdlovsk. She spoke a lot on the radio and published war articles, essays and poems in newspapers. In the 1940s, she came up with the idea of a work about young teenagers who work tirelessly in defense factories at numerous machines. To master the topic, she even mastered the profession of a turner, and in 1943 she wrote the long-awaited work “The Apprentice Is Coming.”
After the war, the poetess very often visited orphanages, talked with orphans, read her poems, and even patronized some orphanages. In 1947, Agnia Barto published one of her most psychologically difficult works - the poem “Zvenigorod”, dedicated to numerous children whose parents were taken away by the war.
After the publication of “Zvenigorod,” a woman from Karaganda, who lost her daughter during the war years, wrote to her. She asked Agnia Lvovna to help find her. The poetess took the letter to an organization that was looking for people, and a miracle happened: mother and daughter found each other after several years of separation. This case was written about in the press, and soon Barto began to receive numerous letters from children and parents eager to find each other.
The poetess took on a job that no one else could do. In her radio program “Find a Person,” children talked about their fragmentary memories from the times when they still lived with their parents. Barto read excerpts from letters, and listeners helped her: as a result, a huge number of people found their relatives thanks to Agnia Lvovna.
Naturally, the poetess did not forget about creativity, and continued to write books for the little ones. Her poems for children “Grandfather and Granddaughter”, “Leshenka, Leshenka”, “Bear and Uncle Vova”, “First-grader”, “Vova the Good Soul” and many others were published in large editions and read with pleasure by children all over the country.
In addition, the films “Alyosha Ptitsyn Develops Character” and “The Elephant and the String” were shot based on Agnia’s scripts. The poetess’s short filmography also includes the film “Foundling,” for which Barto helped write the script.
Agnia Lvovna’s first husband was the poet Pavel Barto, whose surname the poetess subsequently bore throughout her life. This marriage, concluded in the youth of both poets, lasted less than ten years.
Pavel and Agnia had a son, Edgar, who died at the age of 18 in an accident.
The second husband of the writer was Andrei Shcheglyaev, with whom she lived in happiness and love until 1970, when Andrei Vladimirovich died due to cancer.
In this marriage, a daughter, Tatyana, was born, who later became a candidate of technical sciences.
Agnia Barto died on April 1, 1981, the cause of death was heart problems. After the autopsy, the doctors were amazed that the poetess lived a fairly long life despite the fact that she had extremely weak blood vessels.
Many admirers of Agnia’s work subsequently recalled her phrase “Almost every person has moments in life when he does more than he can” - and noted that for Barto such moments stretched into whole years.
Agnia Lvovna Barto was born on February 4 (17), 1906, in Moscow, into an intelligent family. The future writer received her primary education at home. Then she was sent to study at a gymnasium. At the same time, young Agnia attended a choreographic school. The first poems were “born” around the same time.
In 1924, Barto graduated from college and remained in the ballet troupe. She worked there until 1925.
Barto Agnia Lvovna attracted the attention of the People's Commissar of Education A.V. Lunacharsky in her youth. Having visited a demonstration concert of graduates of the choreographic school in 1924, he was delighted with her professional performance of poetry. Expressing his admiration, the People's Commissar invited the girl to his People's Commissariat. A conversation took place there, during which Lunacharsky convinced Barto that she needed to develop her talent.
The collection “Poems for Children” was published in 1949. The collection “For Flowers in the Winter Forest” was published in 1970.
In 1976, the book “Notes of a Children's Poet” was published.
Agnia Barto made her contribution to Soviet cinema. Together with R. Zelena in 1939, she wrote the script for the film “Foundling”. The script “The Elephant and the String” was written in 1949, “Alyosha Ptitsyn Develops Character” in 1953, and “10,000 Boys” in 1961.
In 1930, a letter signed by A. Barto appeared in Literaturnaya Gazeta. In this letter, the author spoke out against another famous children's writer, K. I. Chukovsky. “Anti-Sovietism” was seen in Chukovsky’s children’s fairy tales.
In 1944, Chukovsky received a reprimand from his colleagues from the Writers' Union. The writers, led by Barto, firmly asked the writer not to write more “absurd charlatan nonsense.”
From the autumn of 1965 to February 1966, Barto took an active part in the process of writers Yu. M. Daniel and A. D. Sinyavsky. They also accused Barto of “anti-Sovietism.”
In 1974, at the insistence of A. Barto, K. Chukovsky’s daughter, L. Chukovskaya, was expelled from the Writers’ Union. Until 1987, its publications were banned in the Soviet Union.
From his first marriage, A. Barto had a son, Edgar, born in 1927. On May 5, 1945, he died when he fell under the wheels of a truck.
The second husband of the poet was A.V. Shcheglyaev, corresponding member of the ANSSR. Their daughter, T. A. Shcheglyaeva, is a candidate of technical sciences.
Agnia Barto, her biography, life and work still arouse sincere interest among readers, regardless of age, education and character.
It would be fair to say that Barto had an absolutely “light” pen.
It was this lightness “in the architecture” of the children’s poems she wrote that contributed to their understanding, clear content and easy memorization.
Children of preschool age, not yet able to write and read independently, playfully memorize the simple rhyming poems of the great poetess. Entire generations of our grandparents, mothers and fathers grew up reading the poems of Agnia Barto at children's matinees.
Today, our modern children, despite their awareness and total “digitization” with various smart gadgets, just like their grandmothers and mothers once did, worry every day: about a bear whose paw was torn off; they sympathize with the girl Tanya, who dropped the ball into the water.
This means that the lines of poetry written by Barto directly touch the open heart of a child and make him experience a sincere child’s soul.
Agree that having fallen in love with the work of the poetess, it is especially interesting to learn and feel the atmosphere in which she was born and lived. After all, as you know, any creativity has its roots in childhood.
Agnia is a native Muscovite. She was born in 1906 into a strong Jewish family.
As a girl, her last name was Volova. The father of the future poetess, Lev Nikolaevich Volov, was a worthy and educated man.
While working as a veterinarian, in his spare time he liked to write poetry and fairy tales. The girl was always proud of her father and patronymic.
Mom, Maria Ilyinichna, having gotten married, devoted her life to her family and daughter. She was a cheerful and kind person.
The childhood and youth of the future poetess were happy and cloudless. Young Agnia, as a high school student, went to classes at a ballet school: her father dreamed of her becoming a ballerina.
Being a purposeful person, after graduating from ballet school, Agnia enters and graduates from a choreographic school.
From 1924 to 1925 she shines on the ballet stage. But, due to her reluctance to emigrate abroad with the entire troupe, she decides to leave the stage.
It is this event - leaving the ballet troupe in 1925 - that can be considered key and considered, to some extent, as the actual creative date of birth. Therefore, this year is the date of birth of a new poet.
The beginning is marked by the publication in 1925 of two of her poems, such as: “The Chinese Little Wang Li” and “The Bear is a Thief.”
Korney Chukovsky really liked these poems and was noted by him as bright and talented.
Having received such a blessing from the great children's writer, the aspiring poetess felt inspired and full of creative plans for the future.
The heyday begins in the mid-thirties of the twentieth century.
While still a high school student, she read the poems of Akhmatova and Mayakovsky. Even then I tried to write timid poems and epigrams.
If we talk briefly about the person who in one way or another influenced the choice of life path of the future poetess, then we cannot ignore Anatoly Lunacharsky. After all, it was he who, having heard the first poems she wrote, noted the author’s talent and strongly advised not to give up creativity.
This fateful meeting happened while still studying at the choreographic school. A passion for Mayakovsky’s civic poetry, and later a personal meeting with him, largely determined the social orientation of Barto’s work.
In short, her children's works teach seemingly simple but very important things: to love the Motherland, take care of the weak, not to betray friends, to be brave and honest.
The poetess writes a lot, but collections of her poems never gather dust on bookstore shelves: neither then nor now.
Our grandparents probably remember the wonderful children's poems and the most famous works of the poetess. These are poems from the collections: “Brothers”, “Boy on the contrary”, “Toys”, “Bullfinch”.
The poems from the collection “Toys” especially attracted the attention of very young children: about a bunny abandoned by its owner in the rain; about a bull that is about to fall; about Tanya, who cries loudly...
Barto wrote a number of scripts from which well-known and beloved films were made to this day. The list of these films is familiar to many: “The Foundling”, “Alyosha Ptitsyn Develops Character” and “10 Thousand Boys”.
Barto was friends and worked with director Ilya Frez. By the way, the plot of the poem “Rope” was used by Frez during the filming of the film “The Elephant and the Rope.”
At the end of the seventies, a presentation of Barto’s autobiographical book “Notes of a Children’s Poet” took place. Fans and admirers of the poetess’s work will still be interested in reading this book today. It combines diary stories and entries. Everything is compiled in such a way as not to tire the reader or make him bored.
Agnia’s personal life is marriage and the birth of two children. This is the pain of losing my only son.
She happened to be married twice. Both marriages produced children.
The first husband was the young poet Pavel Barto. Young Agnia Volova was young and romantic. Having fallen madly in love with a handsome young man, she saw family life in bright pictures of cloudless happiness.
But, unfortunately, the young spouses were connected only by romance and love of poetry. As a result, the marriage quickly broke up, and Agnia was left with her husband’s surname and a little son in her arms. The boy's name was Garik.
The years of life measured out for a son are only eighteen years. At this young age, he was hit by a truck in Moscow, on Lavrushinsky Lane, not far from his home. Having gone completely into work and being creative, Barto was never able to fully survive this loss.
Her second husband was a promising scientist - thermal power engineer, Andrei Shcheglyaev. He long and very persistently sought the hand of his beloved. They lived in a happy and strong marriage for fifty years, almost without even quarreling.
As a result of the love between the physicist and the lyricist, a daughter was born, who was named Tanya. Perhaps it was she who became the heroine of the famous poem “Our Tanya is crying loudly.”
Barto adored her strong family, her husband and children, and dreamed that everyone would live under one roof, even when the children grew up and started their own families.
At 76 years old, she suddenly became ill with her heart. I had a heart attack. He was the first and the last.
Barto died on April 1, 1981. She found her final refuge at the Novodevichy cemetery in Moscow.
Barto's grave is always buried in flowers from devoted admirers of various nationalities, ages and professions.
In the end, I would like to talk a little about interesting facts from her biography and work:
The name of Agnia Barto will be alive for many, many years to come, since the love for her poems is passed on “by inheritance,” from parents to their children. And so - from generation to generation.
Her touching poems: about the bear, about the girl Tanya, about Vovka, about the bull - are not afraid of any modern technology, artificial intelligence and total digitization. The poems of Agnia Lvovna Barto, with their sincerity and sincerity, have long earned the right to eternal love and eternal life.
