Neither I nor you will have to live. Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov - railway - read a book for free
encyclopedic Dictionary winged words and expressions Serov Vadim Vasilievich
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time / I won't have to - neither me nor you
It's a pity - to live in this beautiful time / I won't have to - neither me nor you
From the poem " Railway"(1864) I. A. Nekrasova(1821 - 1877). Allegorically: regret that you will not have to see the embodiment of some wonderful prospects (jokingly ironic).
From the book Catching Fish from Ice author Smirnov Sergey GeorgievichIn a deaf time The golden fishing time quickly flies - the first ice. It is replaced by the so-called "dead season". As already mentioned, an intense perch bite begins a week after the ice rises and usually lasts until the end of December. January is the time for fierce
From the book Pickup. seduction tutorial author Bogachev Philip Olegovich From the book Encyclopedic Dictionary of winged words and expressions author Serov Vadim VasilievichWhen we were young / And they carried beautiful nonsense From the poem "When we were young ..." (1968) by the poetess Yunna Petrovna Moritz (b. 1937). The lines gained popularity thanks to the song "When We Were Young" (1976), written by Sergei Nikitin. The lyrics of his song were composed of
From the book How to Survive in the Army. A book for conscripts and their parents author Ponomarev Gennady ViktorovichDining room. How and what to eat Naturally, if a soldier is obliged to serve, then he is also obliged to feed. And therefore, the defenders of the Fatherland go three times a day to eat in a special institution called a canteen. They walk, as you probably already guessed, in formation. IN
From the book School of Survival in an Economic Crisis author Ilyin Andrey From the book Four Seasons of the Angler [Secrets of successful fishing at any time of the year] author Kazantsev Vladimir Afanasyevich From the book Around Petersburg. Observer Notes author Glezerov Sergey EvgenievichBREAM IN THE TIME OF LEAF FALL
From the book 500 objections with Evgeny Frantsev author Frantsev Evgeny From the book of 100 objections. Man and woman author Frantsev Evgeny From the book of 100 objections. environment author Frantsev Evgeny From the book Being the boss is normal author Tulgan Bruce From the book What to do in emergency situations author Sitnikov Vitaly Pavlovich20. I won't marry you because you only want money. Intention: Do you want to be sure of my feelings? I can prove it to you. Redefinition: yes, I have needs, but I also... Separation: let's talk about our feelings, and then you will understand what it is for me
From the author's book14. I won't help you because you might not like it. Intention: Do you want to not disappoint me? Then... Redefining: I can be picky. But you can... Separation: but you can try... Union: I don't like much. Therefore ... Analogy: partner
From the author's book77. I won't let you move in with him, because it's too early for you to live together. Intention: do you want me to feel good? I’m better with him… Redefinition: yes, we haven’t known each other for 5 years, and at the same time… Separation: but I can live with him for a week… Maybe it will work out… Union:
From the author's bookIf you actively solve problems as soon as they arise, you may never have to fire anyone. Still, sometimes it is almost impossible to fire a subordinate. Some organizations are so afraid of lawsuits that they have
From the author's bookIf you have to give birth During the first stage, which lasts up to 14 hours for the first birth and somewhat less for repeated births, the muscles of the uterus begin to contract, first every half hour, and then more often, opening its neck, through which the baby comes out and "departs
“Repair work on the railway”, 1874. Konstantin Apollonovich Savitsky (1845 - 1905) - an active participant in the Association of Travelers art exhibitions". His paintings are a vivid protest against the war (“To the War”, 1880), religious dope (“Meeting the Icon”, 1878), and exploitation.
V a n I (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the car
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...
Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me at moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.
He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.
Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!
We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:
Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;
I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!
This noble habit of work
It would not be bad for us to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.
At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!
“I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well… did the people create all this?
Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! ”-
“I’m not talking for you, but for Vanya…”
But the general did not object:
"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side…
Happy to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!
Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people make way dignifiedly...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
“Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..
With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
And - I give arrears! .. "
Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!
Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General?
V a n I (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the car
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...
Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.
He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.
Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!
We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten a long time ago? .. "
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:
Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;
I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!
This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.
At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!
"I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?
Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away!
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:
"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
light side..."
Happy to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!
Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
"Maybe there's too much here now,
Yes, come on! .. " They waved their hands ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
"Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..
With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
And - I give arrears! .. "
Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!
Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a shout of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General?
V a n I (in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the car
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...
Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.
He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.
Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!
We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten a long time ago? .. "
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:
Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;
I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!
This noble habit of work
We would not be bad to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.
At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!
"I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?
Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away!
"I'm not talking for you, but for Vanya..."
But the general did not object:
"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
light side..."
Happy to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!
Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
"Maybe there's too much here now,
Yes, come on! .. " They waved their hands ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people make way decorously...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
"Okay ... something ... well done! .. well done! ..
With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
And - I give arrears! .. "
Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!
Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a shout of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General?
Vania(in a coachman's coat).
Dad! who built this road?daddy(in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreyevich Kleinmichel, my dear!Conversation in the car
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...
Good papa! Why in charm
Keep Vanya smart?
You let me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly huge
Not on the shoulder alone!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is his name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; drives people to the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind the shoulders
Stonecutters, weavers.
He drove the masses of the people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Calling to life these barren wilds,
The coffin was found here.
Straight path: the mounds are narrow,
Poles, rails, bridges.
And on the sides, all the bones are Russian ...
How many of them! Vanya, do you know?
Chu! terrible exclamations were heard!
Stomp and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran over the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the Dead!
They overtake the cast-iron road,
Then the sides run.
Do you hear the singing? .. "On this moonlit night
We love to see our work!
We tore ourselves under the heat, under the cold,
With an eternally bent back,
Lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
Were cold and wet, sick with scurvy.
We were robbed by literate foremen,
The bosses were crushed, the need was crushing ...
We have endured everything, God's warriors,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our fruits!
We are destined to rot in the earth ...
Do you all remember us, the poor, with kindness
Or have you forgotten for a long time? .. "
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from mother Volga, from Oka,
From different parts of the great state -
It's all your brothers - men!
It's a shame to be shy, to close with a glove,
You are no longer small! .. Russian hair,
You see, he is standing, exhausted by a fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:
Lips bloodless, eyelids fallen,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Forever knee-deep in water
The legs are swollen; tangle in hair;
I am pitting my chest, which is diligently on the spade
From day to day leaned all century ...
You look at him, Vanya, carefully:
It was difficult for a man to get his bread!
Didn't straighten his hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically rusty shovel
Frozen ground hammering!
This noble habit of work
It would not be bad for us to adopt with you ...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect the man.
Do not be shy for the dear homeland ...
The Russian people carried enough
Carried out this railroad -
Will endure whatever the Lord sends!
Will endure everything - and wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
The only pity is to live in this beautiful time
You won't have to, neither me nor you.
At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of the dead disappeared!
"I saw, dad, I'm an amazing dream, -
Vanya said - five thousand men,
Russian tribes and breeds representatives
Suddenly appeared - and He he told me:
"Here they are - our road builders! .."
The general laughed!
“I was recently in the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw Saint Stephen in Vienna,
Well… did the people create all this?
Excuse me this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a bit wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than an oven pot?
Here are your people - these terms and baths,
A miracle of art - he pulled everything away! ”-
“I’m not talking for you, but for Vanya…”
But the general did not object:
"Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! a wild crowd of drunkards! ..
However, it's time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to revolt a child's heart.
Would you show the child now
The bright side…
Happy to show!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It's over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
Gathered in a close crowd at the office ...
They scratched their heads hard:
Each contractor must remain,
Truant days have become a penny!
Everything was entered by ten's men in a book -
Did he take a bath, was the patient lying:
“Maybe there is now a surplus here,
Yes, come on! .. ”They waved their hands ...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Fat, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is walking along the line on a holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people make way dignifiedly...
Sweat wipes the merchant from the face
And he says, akimbo pictorially:
“Okay… not something O… well done A!.. well done A!..
With God, now home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to workers
AND - donate arrears!..»
Someone cheered. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Look:
With a song, the foremen rolled a barrel ...
Here even the lazy could not resist!
Unharnessed the people of the horses - and the merchant
With a cry of "Hurrah!" sped along the road...
Seems hard to please the picture
Draw, General?
Analysis of the poem "Railway" by Nekrasov
The vast majority of Nekrasov's work is devoted to the simple Russian people, describing their troubles and suffering. He believed that a true poet should not stray from reality into romantic illusions. Poem "Railroad" - a prime example poet's civic lyrics. It was written in 1864 and is dedicated to the construction of the Nikolaev railway (1843-1851).
The railway between St. Petersburg and Moscow has become a grandiose project. It significantly raised the authority of Russia, reduced the gap from the developed European countries.
At the same time, the construction was carried out by backward methods. The labor of the state and serfs was actually slave labor. The state did not take into account the victims, many people died in hard physical work in unbearable conditions.
The introduction to the work is the subtle irony of Nekrasov. The general calls the builder of the railway not a disenfranchised mass of workers, but Count Kleinmichel, who became famous for his cruelty.
The first part of the poem is a lyrical description of the beautiful view that opens before the eyes of the passengers of the train. Nekrasov lovingly depicts the landscape of "dear Rus'". In the second part there is a drastic change. The narrator shows the general's son a terrible picture of the construction of the railway, which high society prefers not to see. Behind the movement to progress are thousands peasant lives. From all over the vast Rus', the peasants gathered here " real king" - hunger. Titanic labor, like many large-scale Russian projects, is literally covered with the bones of people.
The third part is the opinion of a self-confident general, symbolizing the stupidity and narrow-mindedness of high society. He believes that illiterate and always drunk men have no value. Only higher creations matter human art. In this thought, opponents of Nekrasov's views on the role of the creator in the life of society are easily guessed.
At the General's request, the narrator shows Vanya the "bright side" of construction. The work is finished, the dead are buried, it's time to take stock. Russia proves to the world its progressive development. The emperor and high society triumph. The heads of construction sites and merchants received significant profits. The workers were rewarded with... a barrel of wine and forgiveness of accumulated fines. A timid exclamation of "Hurrah!" taken over by the crowd.
The picture of the general final rejoicing is incredibly bitter and sad. long-suffering Russian people deceived again. The symbolic price of a grandiose construction project (a third of the annual budget Russian Empire), which claimed thousands of lives, was expressed for ordinary workers in a barrel of vodka. They cannot appreciate the true value of their work, and therefore are grateful and happy.
