I love the storm in early May,
When spring, the first thunder,
as if frolicking and playing,
Rumbling in the blue sky.
Young peals thunder,
The rain is splashing, the dust is flying,
Rain pearls hung,
And the sun gilds the threads.
A swift stream runs down the mountain,
The noise of birds in the forest is not silent,
And the din of the forest and the noise of the mountains -
Everything cheerfully echoes the thunder.
You will say: windy Hebe,
Feeding Zeus's eagle,
A thunderous goblet from the sky,
Laughing, she spilled it on the ground.
Lines familiar to everyone from 5th grade. Over time, you can forget the full text and the author’s last name, but the emotional message will be remembered forever - festive, bright, childishly sweet.
Prehistory
The legendary poem (sometimes called “Spring Thunderstorm”) was written in 1828 by F.I. Tyutchev. It must be said that the poet’s career was no less important than his poetic career. The diplomatic service is the main activity, and poetry, as they would now note, is a hobby of a government official.
Why is it that out of Tyutchev’s 400 poems, this one fills souls with a bright expectation of happiness? The author is only 25 years old at the time of writing. He is young and, apparently, in love. The state of constant love was characteristic of him, like Pushkin. Maybe this is where poets drew their source of inspiration? The enthusiastic, life-affirming tone, the beauty of epithets and metaphors - this is what attracts 4 stanzas of the poem.
A wonderful phenomenon of beautiful nature
The May thunderstorm is an impressive natural phenomenon. It is fleeting and delightful. Despite its terrifying power, a thunderstorm in May is a symbol of the rebirth of life. Spring showers water the young greenery with life-giving moisture. To describe his feelings, Tyutchev used iambic tetrameter.
The entire poem consists of 4 stanzas. Each has 4 lines. Stress falls on even syllables. The result is a laconic but colorful presentation of the poet’s thoughts.
His thunder behaves like a playful child - frolicking and playing. Why is that? He was just born - in May. “Young” peals of thunder do not frighten, but delight. I’m tempted to jump out of the house under the “pearls of rain” illuminated by the sun. How you want to start dancing, to wash your face and body with the moisture of a spring thunderstorm! Not only people rejoice at the downpour, but in the forest “the din of birds is not silent.” He “echoes the thunder cheerfully,” just like the echo in the mountains.
The poet resorts to a deep, beautiful metaphor, comparing the rain with the contents of Hebe's cup. Why did he turn to Greek mythology? It seems that the author associates the eternally young daughter of Zeus with the beauty of spring. The cup contains her divine nectar. The beautiful, laughing, mischievous Hebe sheds life-giving moisture on the earth. Tyutchev was an expert on the Greek epic, so he chose the most expressive image, in his opinion. It's hard to disagree with him.
Spring thunderstorm
I love the storm in early May,
When spring, the first thunder,
As if frolicking and playing,
Rumbling in the blue sky.
Young peals thunder!
The rain is splashing, the dust is flying...
Rain pearls hung,
And the sun gilds the threads...
A swift stream runs down the mountain,
The noise of birds in the forest is not silent,
And the noise of the forest, and the noise of the mountains -
Everything cheerfully echoes the thunder...
You will say: windy Hebe,
Feeding Zeus's eagle,
A thunderous goblet from the sky,
Laughing, she spilled it on the ground!
I love May's first storms:
chuckling, sporting spring
grumbles in mock anger;
young thunderclaps,
a spatter of rain and flying dust
and wet pearls hanging
threaded by sun-gold;
a speedy current scampers from the hills.
Such a commotion in the woods!
Noises cartwheel down the mountains.
Every sound is echoed round the sky.
You"d think capricious Hebe,
feeding the eagle of Zeus,
had raised a thunder-foaming goblet,
unable to restrain her mirth,
and tipped it on the earth.
I love a thunder – storm at the beginning of May,
when spring's first thunder,
as though play, in a frolic,
rumbles in the blue sky.
The young peals of thunder rattle.
Now it is drizzling,
dust is flying, pearls are hanging,
and the sun is gilding the threads.
A swift torrent rushes down the hill,
The birds’ clamor in the wood does not cease;
The clamor in the woods and the noise on the hillside
All gailly echo the thunder – claps.
You will say constant Hebe,
while feeding Zeus's eagle,
laughing, emptied a cup seeing things with thunder
from heaven on to the earth
I love a thunderstorm in May
When here the first spring's early thunder,
As though a joyful part of play,
Roars in the blue sky in its grandeur.
Being strong and young, it's thundering,
Look, rain has started, dust is flying,
The rainy pearls have hung as strings,
The sun is gilding threads by smiling.
A stream runs quickly down the hill,
The birds of wood don’t cease songs’ wonders,
And whistle from wood and sound of rill
Both gailly echo to the thunders...
It's carefree Hebe, you may say,
When feeding Zeus's noble eagle,
Below her on the earth’s huge tray
Has spilled a cup, it makes her giggle.
Wie lieb" ich dich, o Maigewitter,
Wenn durch den blauen Wolkenspalt
Wie scherzend unter Blitzgezitter
Der erste Lenzesdonner hallt!
Das ist ein Rollen, Knattern, Splittern!
Nun spritzt der Regen, Staub fliegt auf;
Der Gräser Regenperlen zittern
Und goldig flirrt die Sonne drauf.
Vom Berge schnellt der Bach hernieder,
Es singt der grünbelaubte Hain,
Und Bachsturz, Hainlaub, Vogellieder,
Sie stimmen in den Donner ein...
Hat Hebe in dem Göttersaale,
Nachdem sie Jovis Aar getränkt,
Die donnerschäumend volle Schale
Mutwillig erdenwärts gesenkt?
Lubię w początku maja burzę,
Kiedy wiosenny pierwszy grom,
Jakby swawoląc po lazurze,
Grzechoce w niebie huczną grą.
Odgromy młode grzmią rozgłośnie.
Już deszczyk prysnął, kurz się wzbił,
Zawisły perły dżdżu radośnie
I słońce złoci rośny pył.
Z pagórka potok wartki bieży,
Ptaszęcy zgiełk w dąbrowie wre,
I leśny zgiełk, i poszum świeży
Wesoło wtórzą gromów grze.
I rzekłbyś, że to płocha Heba,
Dzeusowe orlę karmiąc, w ślad
Piorunopienną czarę z nieba
Wylała, śmiejąc się, na świat!
Oluju volim ranog svibnja,
proljetni kada prvi grom
k"o da urezuje se, game,
Na nebu tutnji plavetnom.
Gromovi grme, tutnje mladi,
Prah leti, kiša lije, gle,
Sunašce niti svoje zlati,
I visi kišno biserje.
Sa gore hita potok brzi,
U šumi ne mre ptica pjev,
I graja šume, zvuci brdski -
Veselo groma prate sijev.
Zeusu orla pojila,
pa gromobujni pehar s sky,
Smijuć se, zemljom prolila.
Oluju volim ranog svibnja,
Proljetni kada prvi grom
Kao da zabavlja se, game,
Na nebu tutnji plavetnom.
Gromovi tutnje, grme mladi,
Prah leti, kiša lije se,
Sunašce svoje niti zlati,
I visi kišno biserje.
S planine hita potok brzi,
U šumi ne mre ptica pjev,
I žamor šume, zvuci brdski -
Veselo groma prate sijev.
Ti reć" ćeš: vrckava to Heba,
Zeusu orla pojila,
Munjonosni je pehar s neba
Smijuć se, zemljom prolila.
(Rafaela Sejić)
I love the bleached navalnitsa,
Kali on a bright May day,
The sky is walking and having fun,
thunder in the sky.
The rumble of the rumble of the young one,
all the rain is pouring, the chicken is ardent,
There are rich pearls in the sky,
And the sun is a thread of silver.
Zgary Byazhyts Ruchai Vyasyoly,
don't get sick of the haman,
And the forest is clear, and the noise is down -
all turue perunam.
You say: Hebe's wind race
grin, you arla feeders,
grymotnapenny cup from the sky
The edge was completely damaged.
五月初的雷是可爱的：
那春季的第一声轰隆
好象一群孩子在嬉戏，
闹声滚过碧蓝的天空。
青春的雷一联串响过，
阵雨打下来，飞起灰尘，
雨点象珍珠似的悬着，
阳光把雨丝镀成了黄金。
从山间奔下湍急的小溪，
林中的小鸟叫个不停，
山林的喧哗都欢乐地
回荡着天空的隆隆雷声。
你以为这是轻浮的赫巴①
一面喂雷神的苍鹰，
一面笑着自天空洒下
满杯的沸腾的雷霆。
一八二八年
查良铮 译
In the history of a familiar poem, it turns out, there are little-known pages.
Spring thunderstorm
I love the storm in early May,
When spring, the first thunder,
As if frolicking and playing,
Rumbling in the blue sky.
Young peals thunder...
Rain pearls hung,
And the sun gilds the threads.
A swift stream runs down the mountain,
The noise of birds in the forest is not silent,
And the din of the forest and the noise of the mountains -
Everything cheerfully echoes the thunder.
You will say: windy Hebe,
Feeding Zeus's eagle,
A thunderous goblet from the sky,
Laughing, she spilled it on the ground.
Fedor Tyutchev
Spring 1828
These lines, and especially the first stanza, are synonymous with Russian poetic classics. In the spring we simply echo these lines.
I love thunderstorms... - Mom will say thoughtfully.
In the beginning of May! - the son will respond cheerfully.
The kid may not have read Tyutchev yet, but the lines about the thunderstorm already live mysteriously in him.
And it is strange to learn that “The Spring Storm” took on the textbook form familiar to us from childhood only a quarter of a century after it was written, in the 1854 edition.
But when it was first published in the magazine Galatea in 1829, the poem looked different. There was no second stanza at all, and the well-known first one looked like this:
I love the storm in early May:
How fun is spring thunder
From one end to another
Rumbling in the blue sky!
It was in this version that “Spring Thunderstorm”, written by 25-year-old Tyutchev, was familiar to A.S. Pushkin. I don’t dare to guess what Alexander Sergeevich would say if he compared the two editions of the first stanza, but the earlier one is closer to me.
Yes, in the later version the skill is obvious, but in the early version - what spontaneity of feeling! Not only can you hear thunderstorms there; there, behind the clouds, a rainbow can already be discerned - “from one end to the other end.” And if you scroll forward a couple of pages from Tyutchev’s volume, then here it is, the rainbow - in the poem “Calmness,” which begins with the words “The storm has passed...” and written, perhaps, in the same 1828:
...And the rainbow at the end of its arc
I ran into green peaks.
In the early edition of “Spring Storm,” the first stanza soared so high and said so much that subsequent stanzas seemed “trailer” and unnecessary. And it is obvious that the last two stanzas were written when the thunderstorm had long gone beyond the horizon, and the first enthusiastic feeling from contemplating the elements had faded.
In the 1854 edition, this unevenness is smoothed out by the second stanza that suddenly appeared.
Young peals thunder...
The rain is splashing, the dust is flying,
Rain pearls hung,
And the sun gilds the threads.
The stanza is brilliant in its own way, but only the first and last lines remain from the first. The enthusiastically half-childish “how fun...” disappeared, the “edges” of the earth, between which the thunder roared, disappeared. In their place came an ordinary line for a romantic poet: “As if frolicking and playing...” Tyutchev compares thunder with a naughty child, there is nothing to complain about, but: oh, this is “as if”! If Fyodor Ivanovich and Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev, who collected his book in 1854, knew how tired we would be of this verbal virus in the 21st century (that’s what philologists call the ill-fated “as if”), they would not have bothered to edit the first stanza.
But you never know what to expect from your descendants.
I think that it is rare to meet a person who, at least once in his life, has not heard the verse “I love a thunderstorm in early May...” or at least its initial lines. At the same time, most often we hear funny parodies and don’t know who the author is. But this poem was written by the famous Russian poet Fyodor Tyutchev and it is called Spring Thunderstorm. In this post I will present the original text of the poem about the thunderstorm and numerous parodies of it.
Original:
"Spring Storm"
I love the storm in early May,
When spring, the first thunder,
as if frolicking and playing,
Rumbling in the blue sky.
Young peals thunder,
The rain is splashing, the dust is flying,
Rain pearls hung,
And the sun gilds the threads.
A swift stream runs down the mountain,
The noise of birds in the forest is not silent,
And the din of the forest and the noise of the mountains -
Everything cheerfully echoes the thunder.
You will say: windy Hebe,
Feeding Zeus's eagle,
A thunderous goblet from the sky,
Laughing, she spilled it on the ground.
Fyodor Tyutchev
Parodies and jokes:
I love the storm in early May,
When the first thunder of spring
How he fucks from behind the barn,
And not to come to your senses later!
I love the storm in early May,
When the first thunder of spring
How the fuck - and there is no barn!
Guts hanging on wires
Skeletons crawling in the bushes...
(Cowards are hanging on wires,
The skeleton is lying in the bushes.)
I love the storm in early May,
How the fuck and there is no barn.
Brusley is lying in the bushes,
Brains hanging on wires
Stallone collects bones,
And our beloved Jackie Chan
Looks like fried cabbage.
I love the storm in early May,
Haystack, woman between legs
And again there is not enough vodka
Finish the dialogue with you.
Young peals thunder,
I'm gloomily immersed in thought,
The daring loins hung,
But that's not what makes me sad.
A swift stream runs down the mountain,
The empty bottle burns my eyes,
Your stupid laugh, so cheerful,
It cuts my ears like a milling cutter.
You will say: windy Hebe
Sucked my adrenaline
And I will say, swearing at the sky:
Let's quickly go to the store.
I love thunderstorms at the beginning of summer,
One hit and you're a cutlet.
I love the storm in early May,
It's crazy and there is no May.
****
There's a thunderstorm, early May
I squeezed the woman between my legs
Love happens like this:
My husband grows a horn.
I love the storm in early May
We stand under the tree with you
The grass rustles under us
And the trees are slowly swaying
The thunderstorm never stops thundering
And the wind quietly soars into the sky
Carrying leaves with him
And we stand with you
And we'll get wet in the rain with you
I love the storm in early May
When we meet you dear love
Your beautiful eyes
I never forget
When you and I stood
Huddled close to each other, warming
The thunderstorm brought us together
I love you so much darling
A thunderstorm passed down the street,
Yes, it stared me in the eye:
I ran home knocking down pillars...
"I love the storm in early May!"
I love the storm in early May,
I love snowstorms in February...
But I don’t like it when in April,
Damn, my snot freezes when I walk!
I love the storm in early May,
How smart people love - shiza,
How the patient loves the doctor...
I love spring thunderstorms!
I love the storm in early May,
How crazy - and there is no barn!
As if frolicking and playing,
Lightning then hit the ferry,
Without knowing it herself,
In the temple I interrupted the psalm.
Young peals thunder,
And people ran out of the temple,
Almost drowned in puddles and damp,
We swam ashore, and there it was -
A swift stream is already running down the mountain.
In the forest there is a simple three-story mat,
And swearing, and screams, and mountain noise -
The flowing water almost flooded the forest.
Note:
1
Hebe is the goddess of blooming youth, the daughter of Hera and Zeus, the wife of the deified Hercules, at the feasts of the gods she served as a cupbearer, bringing them nectar and ambrosia (Greek mythology).
2
Zeus's eagle - the eagle is the king of animals, the source of light, fertility and immortality (Greek mythology); Zeus chose the eagle as his military sign.
A comment:
Autograph unknown.
First publication - Galatea. 1829. Part 1. No. 3. P. 151, signed “F. Tyutchev." Then - Sovrem., 1854. T. XLIV. P. 24; Ed. 1854. P. 47; Ed. 1868. P. 53; Ed. \ St. Petersburg, 1886. P. 6; Ed. 1900. P. 50.
Published according to Ed. St. Petersburg, 1886.
In the first edition, the poem consisted of three stanzas (“I love the thunderstorm...”, “Runs from the mountain...”, “You say...”); Only the last stanza remained unchanged, the other two in the first edition had a slightly different appearance: the “fun” of the May thunderstorm was announced already in the second line (“How fun is spring thunder”) and then there was a spatial definition of the phenomenon, generally very characteristic of Tyutchev (“ From edge to other edge"); and although a different version appeared in later editions during his lifetime, the image itself and its verbal expression are repeated: in the first passage from Faust (“And storms howl continuously / And they sweep the earth from one end to another”), in verse. "From edge to edge, from city to city...". In the second stanza, the figurative components were more specific compared to the later edition; they talked about “stream”, “mountain spring”, “speaking of birds”, in further publications “agile stream”, “forest din”, “mountain noise” appeared. Generalized images were more consistent with the detached, elevated position of the author, who turned his gaze primarily to the sky, felt the divine-mythological basis of what was happening and seemed not inclined to look at the particulars - “stream”, “birds”.
Text starting from Modern. 1854 does not differ lexically; it took on the form in which “Spring Thunderstorm” was published in the 20th century. However, syntactically, Id. stands out. St. Petersburg, 1886, it contained signs characteristic of Tyutchev’s autographs and corresponding to the enthusiastic and loving emotional tone of the work (“I love the thunderstorm...”): an exclamation point at the end of the 5th line and at the end of the poem, an ellipsis at the end of 6, 8 and 12 lines, which was not in previous editions. The texts of this publication were prepared by A. N. Maikov. Assessing the publication as closest to Tyutchev’s style (it is possible that Maykov could have had an autograph at his disposal), it is given preference in this publication.
Dated to 1828 based on the censorship mark in Galatea: “January 16th day, 1829”; the first version was apparently revised in the early 1850s.
In Otech. zap. (pp. 63–64) reviewer Ed. 1854, having reprinted the entire poem and italicized the last stanza, admired: “What an incomparable artist! This exclamation involuntarily escapes from the reader, rereading for the tenth time this small work of the most perfect style. And we will repeat after him that it is rare, in a few poems, that it is possible to combine so much poetic beauty. What is most captivating in the picture, of course, is the last image, which is of the most elegant taste and consistent in every feature. Such images are rarely found in literature. But, admiring the artistic end of a poetic image, one should not lose sight of its entire image: it is also full of charm, there is not a single false feature in it, and, moreover, everything from beginning to end breathes such a bright feeling that together with him it’s like you’re reliving the best moments of your life.”
But a critic from the Pantheon called the image “a loud boiling cup” among the failures of Tyutchev’s poems. I. S. Aksakov highlighted the verse. “Spring Thunderstorm”, reprinted it in full, accompanied by the statement: “Let us conclude this section of Tyutchev’s poetry with one of his youngest poems<...>This is how one sees a young Hebe laughing above, and all around there is a wet shine, the joy of nature and all this May, thunderstorm fun.” Aksakov’s opinion received philosophical justification in the work of V. S. Solovyov; he proposed a philosophical and aesthetic interpretation of the poem. Having connected beauty in nature with the phenomena of light, Solovyov examined its calm and moving expression. The philosopher gave a broad definition of life as a game, the free movement of particular forces and situations in the individual whole, and saw two main shades in the movement of living elemental forces in nature - “free play and formidable struggle.” He saw the first in Tyutchev’s poem about a thunderstorm “in early May,” quoting almost the entire poem.