August 24th, 2016 , 09:09 pm
On March 27, 1911, Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova was born, a poetess whose poems were used to write such popular songs as “One Hundred Hours of Happiness,” “You know, it will still be!..”,” “They do not renounce, loving.” Collections of her poems were not on library shelves or bookstore shelves. The fact is that the painful frankness and confessionalism of her poetry were inconsonant with the time of collective enthusiasm. And even after perestroika, Tushnova’s poems were not very favored by Russian publishing houses. But the girls' diaries were full of them. These poems were rewritten, memorized, they sank into the soul to remain there forever.
Veronika Tushnova was born in Kazan. Her father was a teacher of microbiology, and later a full member of the All-Union Agricultural Academy. Lenin. The future poetess spoke excellent French and English, and after graduating from school she entered the medical faculty of Kazan University. This is what the father wanted, dreaming that his daughter would continue his work. Veronika Mikhailovna completed her education in St. Petersburg, where her family moved. There she took up painting and began writing poetry.
Veronika Tushnova with her daughter. | Photo: liveinternet.ru
In 1938, Veronica got married and gave birth to a daughter. Before the war, she entered the Literary Institute, but she did not have to study there, the war began. And after that - evacuation and work in the hospital.
Veronika Tushnova returned to Moscow two years after the war. She separated from her husband and released her first collection of poems. That same year, the poetess became a participant in the First Meeting of Young Writers and returned to the Literary Institute, although no longer a student, but the leader of a creative seminar.
In the early 1950s, Veronika Tushnova married a writer (and later the editor-in-chief of the publishing house " Child's world") Yuri Timofeev. They lived together for about 10 years. But Veronica Mikhailovna, as a creative and impulsive person, was unable to give her husband what he was looking for: he wanted borscht and home comfort, but she had practically no time to do anything around the house. Tushnova experienced the separation from her husband very hard, and it was in those days that she came up with heartfelt lines, to which the popular songwriter Mark Minkov later wrote music.
Not renounce loving,
I'll stop waiting for you
Not renounce loving.
And you'll come when it's dark,
When a blizzard hits the window,
When you remember how long ago
We didn't warm each other
Yes, you will come when it is dark.
And so you want warmth
Once unloved,
That you can't wait
Three people at the machine gun,
This is how you want warmth.
You can give everything for this,
And until then I believe in it,
How hard it is for me not to wait for you
All day, without leaving the door,
You can give everything for this.
Not renounce loving,
After all, life does not end tomorrow,
I'll stop waiting for you
And you will come quite suddenly,
Not renounce loving.
<Вероника Тушнова>
Critics note that almost all of Veronica Tushnova’s poems are love lyrics. But it is unlikely that her poetry would have stood the test of time if her poems were about the worries of two lovers. Tushnova’s poems talk about what happiness is. Simple human happiness.
Not renounce loving.
After all, life does not end tomorrow.
I'll stop waiting for you
and you will come quite suddenly.
And you will come when it is dark,
when a blizzard hits the glass,
when you remember how long ago
We didn’t warm each other.
And so you want warmth,
never loved,
that you can't wait
three people at the machine.
And, as luck would have it, it will crawl
tram, metro, I don’t know what’s there.
And the blizzard will cover the paths
on the far approaches to the gate...
And the house will be sad and quiet,
the wheeze of a meter and the rustle of a book,
when you knock on the door,
running up without a break.
You can give everything for this,
and before that I believe in it,
that it’s hard for me not to wait for you,
all day without leaving the door.
Analysis of the poem “Loving Do Not Renounce” by Tushnova
V. Tushnova still remains a “little known” Russian poetess, although several popular Soviet pop songs have been written based on her poems. Among them is “They do not renounce, loving...”. At one time, this work was copied into notebooks by millions of Soviet girls. The poetess gained all-Union fame just after the poem was set to music by M. Minkov.
The work has its own real story origin. For a long time, Tushnova had a passionate affair with A. Yashin. The lovers were forced to hide their relationship because Yashin was married. He could not leave his family, and the poetess herself did not want such a sacrifice from her beloved. Nevertheless, there were secret meetings, walks, and overnight stays in hotels. Tushnova expressed the unbearability of such a life in one of her most famous poems.
All the poetess’s work is in one way or another imbued with love. Tushnova literally lived this feeling and knew how to express it with heartfelt and warm words. Even in modern times, when “free love” reigns, a poem can touch the most subtle strings of the human soul.
Love for Tushnova is the most important and highest feeling. It is high, because there is not a drop of selfishness in her. There is a willingness to sacrifice oneself to a loved one, leaving oneself only with the hope of one’s own true happiness.
The main theme and meaning of the poem lies in the refrain “They do not renounce, loving...”. The lyrical heroine is sure that true love cannot die. Therefore, she never loses hope for the return of her beloved. In simple but surprisingly touching words, she convinces herself that happiness can come at any moment. This can happen completely suddenly: “when it’s dark”, “when... a blizzard hits.” It’s just that love will flood the lovers so much that any barriers will fall and become useless. It is incomprehensible to today's generation, but for Soviet man it meant a lot that it was “you won’t be able to wait out... three people at the machine gun.” The lyrical heroine is ready to “give everything” for her love. Tushnova uses a very beautiful poetic exaggeration: “all day without leaving the door.”
The ring composition of the poem emphasizes the nervous state of the lyrical heroine. The work even in some way resembles a prayer addressed to that power that will never allow love to perish.
Many poets have written about love: good or bad, monotonously or conveying hundreds of shades of this feeling. Tushnova’s poem “They do not renounce, loving ...” is one of the highest achievements love lyrics. Behind the most ordinary words, the reader literally “sees” the naked soul of the poetess, for whom love was the meaning of her whole life.
Alexander Yakovlevich Popov (Yashin)
Alexander Yashin is a poet with a special gift of words. I am almost sure that the modern reader is not familiar with the work of this wonderful Russian poet. I assume that readers from former USSR They will not agree with me, and they will be right. After all, Alexander Yakovlevich created his most famous works in the period from 1928 to 1968.
The poet's life was short. A. Ya. Yashin died of cancer on July 11, 1968 in Moscow. He was only 55 years old. But the memory of him is still alive and will live on. This was partly facilitated by a poem by a “little-known” poetess, Veronika Tushnova. Little known only at first glance. The fact is that her poems were used to write such popular songs as: “You know, everything will still be!..”, “One Hundred Hours of Happiness”...
But Tushnova’s most famous poem, which immortalized her name, is "Not renounce loving" . This poem was dedicated to the poet Alexander Yashin, with whom she was in love. It is believed that the poem was written in 1944, and was originally addressed to another person. Nevertheless, it is believed that it was dedicated to Yashin at the time of separation - in 1965. It was included in a cycle of poems dedicated to their love story. Sad, happy, tragic love...
The poems became popular after the death of the poetess. It all started with a romance by Mark Minkov in 1976 in a performance at the Moscow Theater. Pushkin. And already in 1977, the poems were sung in our usual version - performed by Alla Pugacheva. The song became a hit, and the poetess Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova gained her cherished immortality.
For decades it has enjoyed constant success among listeners. Pugacheva herself later called the song the main one in her repertoire, admitted that while performing it she burst into tears, and that for this miracle one can give Nobel Prize.
“They do not renounce, loving” - the story of creation
Veronica's personal life did not work out. She was married twice, both marriages broke up. Last years In her life, Veronica was in love with the poet Alexander Yashin, which had a strong influence on her lyrics.
According to testimonies, the first readers of these poems could not get rid of the feeling that in their palm lay “a pulsating and bloody heart, tender, trembling in the hand and trying to warm the palms with its warmth.”
However, Yashin did not want to leave his family (he had four children). Veronica was dying not only from illness, but also from longing for her loved one, who, after painful hesitation, decided to let go of sinful happiness. Their last meeting took place in the hospital, when Tushnova was already on her deathbed. Yashin died three years later, also from cancer.
Veronica Mikhailovna Tushnova In the spring of 1965, Veronika Mikhailovna became seriously ill and ended up in the hospital. It went away very quickly, burned out in a few months. On July 7, 1965, she died in Moscow from cancer. She was only 54 years old.
The love story of these two wonderful creative people touches and delights to this day. He is handsome and strong, already an accomplished poet and prose writer. She is an “oriental beauty” and a smart woman with an expressive face and eyes of extraordinary depth, a sensitive, wonderful poetess in the genre of love lyrics. They have a lot in common, they even had a birthday on the same day - March 27th. And they left in the same month with a difference of 3 years: she on July 7, he on the 11th.
Their story, told in verse, was read by the whole country. Lovers soviet women they copied them by hand in notebooks, because it was impossible to get collections of Tushnova’s poems. They were memorized, they were kept in memory and heart. They were sung. They became a lyrical diary of love and separation not only of Veronica Tushnova, but also of millions of women in love.
It is unknown where and when the two poets met. But the feelings that flared up were bright, strong, deep and, most importantly, mutual. He was torn between his suddenly revealed strong feelings for another woman, and his duty and obligations to his family. She loved and waited, like a woman, she hoped that together they could come up with something to be together forever. But at the same time, she knew that he would never leave his family.
Kislovodsk, 1965 in the editorial office of the newspaper “Caucasian Health Resort” At first, like all such stories, their relationship was secret. Rare meetings, agonizing waits, hotels, other cities, general business trips. But it was not possible to keep the relationship a secret. Friends condemn him, family real tragedy. The break with Veronica Tushnova was predetermined and inevitable.
What to do if love came at the end of youth? What to do if life has already turned out the way it has? What to do if your loved one is not free? Forbid yourself to love? Impossible. Parting is tantamount to death. But they broke up. That's what he decided. And she had no choice but to obey.
A dark streak began in her life, a streak of despair and pain. It was then that these piercing lines were born in her suffering soul: not renounce loving… And he, handsome, strong, passionately loved, renounced. He tossed between a sense of duty and love. Sense of duty won...
Not renounce loving.
After all, life does not end tomorrow.
I'll stop waiting for you
and you will come quite suddenly.
And you will come when it is dark,
when a blizzard hits the glass,
when you remember how long ago
We didn’t warm each other.
And so you want warmth,
never loved,
that you can't wait
three people at the machine.
And, as luck would have it, it will crawl
tram, metro, I don’t know what’s there.
And the blizzard will cover the paths
on the far approaches to the gate...
And the house will be sad and quiet,
the wheeze of a meter and the rustle of a book,
when you knock on the door,
running up without a break.
You can give everything for this,
and before that I believe in it,
that it’s hard for me not to wait for you,
all day without leaving the door.
They do not renounce loving, Veronica Tushnova IN last days During the life of the poetess, Alexander Yashin, of course, visited her. Mark Sobol, who had been friends with Tushnova for many years, became an involuntary witness to one of these visits.
“When I came to her room, I tried to cheer her up. She was indignant: no need! She was given antibiotics, which made her lips tighten and made it painful for her to smile. She looked extremely thin. Unrecognizable. And then he came! Veronica ordered us to turn to the wall while she got dressed. Soon she quietly called out: “Boys...” I turned around and was stunned. A beauty stood before us! I will not be afraid of this word, because it is said exactly. Smiling, with glowing cheeks, a young beauty who has never known any illness. And then I felt with particular strength that everything she wrote was true. Absolute and irrefutable truth. Perhaps this is what is called poetry..."
After he left, she screamed in pain, tore the pillow with her teeth, and ate her lips. And she moaned: “What a misfortune happened to me - I lived my life without you.”
The book “One Hundred Hours of Happiness” was brought to her room. She stroked the pages. Fine. Part of the circulation was stolen from the printing house - this is how her poems sank into the souls of the printers.
One hundred hours of happiness... Isn't that enough?
I washed it like golden sand,
collected lovingly, tirelessly,
bit by bit, by drop, by spark, by sparkle,
created it from fog and smoke,
received gifts from every star and birch tree...
How many days did you spend chasing happiness?
on the chilled platform,
in a thundering carriage,
at the hour of departure it overtook him
at the airport,
hugged him, warmed him
in an unheated house.
She cast a spell over him, cast a spell...
It happened, it happened
that from bitter grief I gained my happiness.
This is said in vain
that you need to be born happy.
It is only necessary that the heart
I was not ashamed to work for happiness,
so that the heart is not lazy, arrogant,
so that for a little something it says “thank you.”
One hundred hours of happiness
pure, without deception...
One hundred hours of happiness!
Is this not enough?
Yashin’s wife, Zlata Konstantinovna, responded bitterly with her poems:
One hundred hours of happiness -
Neither more nor less,
Only a hundred hours - she took it and stole it,
And for show to the whole world,
To all people -
One hundred hours only, no one will judge.
Oh, this is happiness, stupid happiness -
Doors and windows and souls are wide open,
Children's tears, smiles -
All in a row:
If you want, admire it,
If you want, rob.
What stupid, stupid happiness!
To be distrustful - what did it cost him,
That he should have been careful -
It is sacred to protect the family,
As it should.
The thief turned out to be persistent and skillful:
One hundred hours just from the whole block...
It's like I hit the top of a plane
Or the water washed away the dam -
And it split, broke into pieces,
Stupid happiness collapsed to the ground.
1964
In the last days before her death, Veronika Mikhailovna forbade Alexander Yakovlevich from entering her room. She wanted her lover to remember her as beautiful and cheerful. And in parting she wrote:
I'm standing at the open door
I say goodbye, I'm leaving.
I won’t believe in anything anymore,
doesn't matter
write,
I beg!
So as not to suffer from late pity,
from which there is no escape,
write me a letter please
forward a thousand years.
Not for the future
so for the past,
for the peace of the soul,
write good things about me.
I'm already dead. Write!
Veronika Tushnova at work The famous poetess was dying in severe agony. Not only from terrible disease, but also from longing for a loved one. At the age of 51, on July 7, 1965, Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova passed away. After her, there were manuscripts left on the table: unfinished pages of a poem and a new cycle of poems.
Alexander Yashin was shocked by the death of his beloved woman. He published an obituary in Literaturnaya Gazeta - he wasn’t afraid - and wrote poetry:
“Now I can love”
You are nowhere from me now,
And no one has power over the soul,
Happiness is so stable
That any trouble is not a problem.
I don't expect any changes
No matter what happens to me from now on:
Everything will be like in the first year,
How it was last year, -
Our time has stopped.
And there will be no more disagreements:
Today our meetings are calm,
Only the linden trees and maples make noise...
Now I can love!
“You and I are no longer subject to jurisdiction”
You and I are no longer subject to jurisdiction,
Our case is closed
Crossed
Forgiven.
It’s not difficult for anyone because of us,
And we don’t care anymore.
Late in the evening,
Early in the morning
I don’t bother to confuse the trail,
I'm not holding my breath -
I'm coming to you on a date
In the twilight of the leaves,
Whenever I want.
Yashin realized that love had not gone away, had not escaped from the heart as ordered. Love only lay low, and after Veronica’s death it flared up with renewed vigor, but in a different capacity. It turned into melancholy, painful, bitter, ineradicable. gone soul mate, truly dear, devoted... I remember the prophetic lines of Tushnova:
Only my life is short,
I only firmly and bitterly believe:
you didn’t like your find -
you will love the loss.
You'll fill it with red clay,
I'll drink to your peace...
You return home - it’s empty,
you leave the house - it’s empty,
you look into the heart - it’s empty,
forever and ever - empty!
Probably, these days he fully, with frightening clarity, understood the sad meaning of the age-old folk wisdom: what we have, we don’t value; when we lose it, we cry bitterly.
1935 Tushnova on sketches After her death, Alexander Yakovlevich, during his remaining three years on earth, seemed to understand what kind of love fate had given him. (“I repent that I loved and lived timidly...”) He composed his main poems, which contain the poet’s deep repentance and a testament to readers who sometimes think that courage and recklessness in love, openness in relationships with people and the world bring only misfortunes.
Books of lyrical prose by A. Ya. Yashin from the 1960s, “I Treat You to Rowan,” or high lyricism, “The Day of Creation,” return readers to an understanding of undiminished values and eternal truths. As a testament to everyone, the lively, anxious and passionate voice of the recognized classic of Soviet poetry can be heard: “Love and hasten to do good deeds!” Mourning at the grave of a woman who became his bitter, predicted loss (Tushnova died in 1965), in 1966 he writes:
But you must be somewhere?
And not a stranger -
Mine... But which one?
Beautiful? Good? Maybe evil?..
We wouldn't miss you.
Yashin's friends recalled that after Veronica's death he walked around as if lost. Big, strong, beautiful person, he somehow immediately gave up, as if the light inside that illuminated his path had gone out. He died three years later from the same incurable disease as Veronica. Shortly before his death, Yashin wrote his “Otkhodnaya”:
Oh, how difficult it will be for me to die,
When you take a full breath, stop breathing!
I regret not leaving -
Leave,
I'm afraid of no possible meetings -
Partings.
Life lies like an uncompressed wedge at your feet.
I will never rest in peace:
I didn’t save anyone’s love before the deadline
And he responded deafly to suffering.
Did anything come true?
What to do with yourself
From the bile of regrets and reproaches?
Oh, how difficult it will be for me to die!
And no
it is forbidden
learn lessons.
They say you don't die of love. Well, maybe at the age of 14, like Romeo and Juliet. It is not true. They die. And at fifty they die. If the love is real. Millions of people mindlessly repeat the formula of love, not realizing its great tragic power: I love you, I can’t live without you... And they continue to live peacefully. But Veronica Tushnova couldn’t. I couldn't live. And she died. From cancer? Or maybe out of love?
Alla Pugacheva’s main hit “They Don’t Renounce, Loving”, in addition to the singer herself, was also performed by Alexander Gradsky, Lyudmila Artemenko, Tatyana Bulanova and Dmitry Bilan...
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