(Leningrad). Her father, Nikolai Nikolaevich Matveev-Bodry, is a geographer by profession, local historian of the Far East, a full member of the All-Union Geographical Society, and a romantic by worldview (hence the names of the children - Novella and Roald). Mother - Matveeva-Orleneva Nadezhda Timofeevna, literature teacher, poetess. Grandfather, Nikolai Petrovich Matveev-Amursky, was also a writer and author of the first “History of the City of Vladivostok”; he lived in Japan for many years. Cousin, Ivan Venediktovich Elagin (real name - Matveev) is a poet of the Russian diaspora.
From 1950 to 1957, Matveeva worked in an orphanage in the Shchelkovo district of the Moscow region. In 1962 she graduated from the Higher Literary Courses at the Literary Institute. A. M. Gorky (in absentia).
He has been writing poetry since childhood and has been publishing since 1958. The first collection was published in 1961; the second (“Ship”) - in 1963. In 1961, Matveeva was accepted into the Union of Writers of the USSR. In the 1970s, she published books “Swallow School”, “River”, etc. In the 1980s - “The Law of Songs”, “Surf Country”, etc.
Creation
Since the late 1950s, Novella Nikolaevna began to compose songs based on her own poems and perform them to her own accompaniment on a seven-string guitar. Since 1972, Novella Matveeva has also been composing songs based on the poems of her husband, poet Ivan Kiuru (1934-1992).
In 1984, at the Central Children's Theater in Moscow, Matveeva's play “Egle's Prediction” was staged - a fantasy based on the works of Alexander Green, containing 33 songs by Novella Nikolaevna.
In 1996, a book of memoirs, “The Ball Left in the Sky,” was published. In 1998, Novella Matveeva became a laureate of the Pushkin Prize in poetry.
In 2002, Novella Matveeva became a laureate of the State Prize of the Russian Federation in the field of literature and art.
Novella Nikolaevna lives and works in Moscow.
Basic books
- "Lyrics" (1961)
- "Boat" (1963)
- "The Soul of Things" (1966)
- "Sunny Bunny" (1966)
- "Swallow School" (1973)
- "River" (1978)
- "The Law of Songs" (1983)
- "Surfland" (1983)
- "Rabbit Village" (1984)
- "Selected" (1986)
- "Praise to Work" (1987)
- "The Unbreakable Circle" (1991)
- "Melody for Guitar" (1998)
- "Dream Tape" (1998)
- "Sonnets" (1999)
- "Caravan" (2000)
- "Jasmine" (2011).
Discography
- "Songs" (Melody, 1967)
- “Poems and Songs” (Melody, 1966)
- “The Road is My Home” (Melody, 1982)
- “Music of Light” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1984)
- “Ballads” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1985)
- “My Little Crow” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986)
- “Red-haired girl” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986)
- "What a Big Wind" (ASP, 1997) CD
- "The Tavern Girl" (ASP, 1997) CD
- “Novella Matveeva” (Moroz Records, 1999) CD
- “Best Songs” (Moscow Windows, 2000) CD
Biographical materials
- Medynsky G. Song poetry of Novella Matveeva, “Youth”, 1966, No. 7
- Prikhodko V. Soul and flesh of poetry, “Friendship of Peoples”, 1967, No. 2.
- Runin B. Distant and close. "New World", 1964, No. 5
From the compiler
The poems of Novella Matveevo make you think. Having read them once, you want to read them again. I don’t believe in those poems that immediately, in one second, come completely, which require absolutely no effort to perceive. Novella Matveeva's poems are wise and at the same time very clear. They have depth, an undercurrent, so there is something to return to.
The poetess loves a clear outline. A sonnet about a sonnet is very characteristic of her, in which she glorifies the beginning that organizes the pressure of feelings, glorifies laconicism and strict form:
Novella Matveeva thinks, but does not reason. For every internal movement, she finds an external gesture that expresses it - everything she talks about is visible only thanks to precise details, volumetric plastic modeling. The poetess is characterized by a romantic mood. She boldly takes images and subjects from world history, from literature, from the field of fine arts, and all this is organically melted in the crucible of her individuality. Whatever theme she takes, it becomes an internal, lyrical theme.
The young reader, I am sure, will be interested in the complex world of the young poetess.
Novella Nikolaevna Matveeva is a wonderful Soviet and Russian poetess. She was one of the first to set poems to music and perform them with a guitar, laying the foundation for a whole generation of bard poets. We will talk about the life and work of this amazing woman in this article.
Novella Matveeva: biography. Family
Novella Nikolaevna was born on October 7, 1934 in the city of Pushkin (at that time it was called Tsarskoye Selo), located in the Leningrad region. Her father, Nikolai Nikolaevich Matveev-Bodry, was a geographer by training and had a professorship in this field, worked as a local historian of the Far East, and was a member of the All-Union Geographical Society. He was a romantic by nature, hence the names of his children - Roald and Novella. The mother of the future poetess Nadezhda Timofeevna taught literature at school, was fond of writing poetry and even published her creations in various newspapers and magazines under the pseudonym Matveeva-Orleneva.
As you can see, Novella Matveeva was not the first writer in the family. The biography of the poetess also indicates that not only her mother was involved in literature. Her grandfather Nikolai Petrovich Matveev-Amursky, who lived in Japan for many years, was a writer, and he is the author of “The History of the City of Vladivostok.” And to top it off, Novella Nikolaevna’s cousin and her husband were also writers.
After graduating from school, the poetess worked from 1950 to 1957 in an orphanage in the Shchelkovsky district (Moscow region). After this, she entered higher literary courses in absentia, held at the Literary Institute named after. Gorky, which she graduated in 1962.
And in 1961, the poetess was accepted into the ranks of the USSR Writers' Union.
The beginning of a creative journey
For the first time, under the influence of her mother, Novella Matveeva took up writing poetry. The biography of our heroine generally indicates that her mother played a big role in her life. Nadezhda Trofimovna was a very extraordinary person, interested in culture and possessed great artistry. The woman had a special passion for poetry and loved to read poetry, in which she was a real master. It was her mother who first introduced Novella to Pushkin, whose works she often recited. The Matveevs always had music in their house, despite the lack of a radio and tape recorder. In addition to poetry, Nadezhda Trofimovna adored music and often sang romances, gypsy, Italian and Russian songs.
Therefore, it is not at all surprising that Novella composed her first poems while still a child, during the war years. This happened in the Moninsky hospital, where the girl was admitted due to vitamin deficiency, which caused complications in her eyes. During these same years, her father worked as a political instructor in that hospital. It was he who first saw his daughter’s creation. Also in her childhood, Novella tried to compose music and set poems by various poets to it, including Fet, Lermontov, Shakespeare, Agnivtsev, Gladkov, etc.
First publication
Novella Matveeva first published her poems in 1957. Songs are the poetess’s greatest passion, so it is not surprising that a work of this particular genre appeared in the newspaper. What’s unusual is that it was a parody of the song “Five Minutes” from the movie “Carnival Night.” After this, the writer began to be published constantly. Her poems appeared on the pages of newspapers and magazines, including “Yenisei”, “Soviet Chukotka”, etc. Later, larger literary publications also paid attention to the poetess.
It was quite difficult for Matveeva to publish her first collections of poetry, and poets David Kugultinov and Igor Grudev came to her aid.
Novella Matveeva made many acquaintances among writers. The biography of the poetess indicates that she was repeatedly helped on her creative path by such famous personalities as S. Marshak, M. Atabekyan, K. Chukovsky, V. Chivilikhin, N. Starshinov, Yu. Voronov, etc. Chukovsky especially admired Matveeva’s poems . The writer, hearing her “Sunny Bunny,” even jumped with delight.
Popularity
Matveeva’s creative destiny turned out very well - she was noticed very quickly and immediately fell in love. In the early 60s of the 20th century, a simple girl from the provinces with a beautiful voice and an old guitar was able to conquer the capital, and then conquered the country. Her songs quickly became popular and began to be heard from tape recorders throughout the country. Matveeva’s works were included in the first bard collection of the Soviet Union - it was a record called “Songs” and released in 1966. Later it was published more than once, but it remained a rare publication.
The work of Novella Matveeva has always been distinguished by incredible energy and love of life, which, undoubtedly, is a reflection of the personal qualities of the poetess. In 1972, Matveeva began writing music for poems by Ivan Kiuru. The most famous works of this period: “Song of the Mule Driver”, “Drainpipes”, “Dolphin Country”, “Organ Grinder”.
Features of poetry
Most often, Novella Matveeva turned to lyrical and romantic themes in her works. The poetess's poems reflect the sublime humanistic impulses of the human soul. Her lyrical hero is a dreamer and visionary, surrounded by a colorful and wonderful natural world. We can say that the writer fully inherited the romantic passions of her father. Her poetry is very light and cheerful. There is no cruelty, dirt, or base feelings in it.
Novella Matveeva conveys confidence in life and incredible optimism in her works. Songs, however, are not the only thing the poetess wrote. She also composed a lot for children, and also did translations, wrote epigrams, parodies, and articles on literature and art. She has published more than thirty books, including poetry, prose and translations. And as a singer-songwriter, Matveeva has recorded a considerable number of records, the last one was released in 2000 - it was the collection “Best Songs”, released by “Moscow Windows”.
Last years and death
Novella Matveeva very easily found her way to the listener’s heart. The poetess's poems and songs are still popular and familiar to many.
Among the writer’s creative works there is also a children’s play “Aigle’s Prediction”, which was first staged on the stage of the Moscow Central Children's Theater. The work, among other things, included 33 original songs by the poetess.
Matveeva Novella Nikolaevna during her long life faced adversity, misunderstanding of critics and creative failures, but this did not manage to break her will. Until her last days, she continued to work and perform. In recent years she has lived in Moscow. She died on September 4, 2016.
Books
Numerous books by the poetess can still be found on bookstore shelves today. The most popular are collections of poems. Among which are the following: “Ship”, “Sunny Bunny”, “Cassette of Dreams”, “Caravan”, “Jasmine”. In addition, several prose works, as well as books for children, have also been published.
Novella Matveeva wrote quite a lot of works during her life. How many years has she been involved in poetry? This question can be answered very easily - throughout your life, from childhood to your last breath. The poetess literally lived by her creativity.
Boris Zhukov. "Eternal Novella"
(Part one)
It is with pleasure that I once again provide the network space and power of my LiveJournal to Boris Borisych Zhukov, a wonderful journalist who writes a lot and interestingly about the author’s song. His new article, dedicated to Novella Matveeva, is posted here in its entirety. The selection of illustrative material and links is mine (links to mp3 tracks are in bold).
But the anniversary passed, there was no other news occasion in the foreseeable future, and in any case, there was no one to even suggest the text that was gradually taking shape in my head. And then I decided: to hell with it, I won’t look at anyone or anything, I’ll write the way I want, and I’ll publish it where and when I can, but certainly in full. After all, talent of this magnitude is its own constant source of information.
No sooner said than done.
K. Speshnik.
|
ETERNAL NOVELLA Non-anniversary notes about the great poet (Part one) Invisible NN Ask anyone you know to list the most significant bards in their opinion. And when he reaches his third or fourth decade, ask in an innocent tone: And your interlocutor, terribly embarrassed, will begin to say confusingly that, of course, she is a classic and a founder, that her songs mean a lot to him personally, and that he did not name her by pure chance, an inexplicable twist of memory. All this sounds very sincere and in fact is the pure truth. With one amendment: an “inexplicable twist” with fatal inevitability affects almost everyone who is offered this simple test. After your humble servant published this observation, Moscow KSP members celebrated the 45th anniversary of the movement. From the stage they solemnly named all the authors - living and deceased - who had at least a round date in 2004. Everyone except Matveeva, who just the day before turned exactly 70. They only realized it during intermission, when someone smart (honestly, not me!) reminded me with a note. However, it would be unfair to think that we are the only ones who are so forgetful. In any reference book, on any website, biographical information about Novella Matveeva ends in the mid-90s at best, but usually the last date dates back to the 80s. The words “in recent years” begin references to what happened thirty years ago. And after that, it was as if nothing had happened - even when she was rather unexpectedly awarded the State Prize last year, no one responded except for some patriotic-anti-Semitic site. The above-mentioned anniversary of the poetess was noticed in the entire central press (we are not talking about those present) only Dmitry Bykov, her direct poetic student. All this could be explained by “falling out of the literary process” (although, note, we are talking about a writer whose new works over the past few years have been regularly published in one of the most authoritative “thick” magazines, Znamya). Or, let’s say, the blatant discrepancy between Matveeva’s poems – both old and new – with the requirements of modern literary fashion. Or simply laziness and lack of curiosity of literary criticism. And all this will be true, or at least something very similar to the truth: in literature, where Alexander Prokhanov can be considered a famous modern writer, and Vladimir Sorokin -
the main newsmaker, where the prize called “National Bestseller” is awarded by a jury of professionals - there really can’t be any Novella Matveeva. As one ghost said in a joke to another, “Do you really still believe in these stupid stories about the living?” Skhodnenskaya recluse In a brief summary, the biography of Novella Matveeva looks prosperous, symbolic and devoid of events. She was born on October 7, 1934 in the city of Pushkin - that is, in Tsarskoe Selo. She spent almost all of her childhood and youth in the Moscow region. She worked in an orphanage - not as a teacher, but as a laborer on a subsidiary farm. On November 1, 1959, she woke up famous: on this day, Komsomolskaya Pravda came out with a strip of her poems. Then she studied at the Higher Literary Courses at the Union of Writers of the USSR, which gave her not only a diploma and the right to a profession, but also an acquaintance with a graduate of the Literary Institute, Ivan (Heino Johannes) Kiuru, whom she married in 1963, so as not to be separated until his death in 1992. Next - only the release dates of books and records. And most recently - awards: the Pushkin Prize in 1998 and the State Prize in 2003. If you look closely, you can see at the very beginning of her biography an amazing family of enthusiasts, dreamers, readers who, having read almost all of the world's literature, retained a common people's reverence for the book. You can feel the attitude of the people who gave their children the names Novella, Rosa-Liana and Roald. (As far as we have been able to find out, Novella Matveeva does not have a single namesake in all of Russia.) The names, of course, are non-canonical - but euphonious and not ideological, not some kind of Dazdraperma, God forgive me. From our time, Nikolai Nikolaevich Matveev-Bodry looks like a revived hero of Soviet “historical-revolutionary” films of the late 60s - a kind of commissar-dreamer, with all his devotion to the cause of the revolution, completely devoid of fanatical narrow-mindedness and seeing in this revolution not “merciless death to all adversaries” , but the demolition of all artificial partitions between people and every person’s access to the cultural riches of humanity. It is not surprising that, despite his personal acquaintance with the leaders, he never became a “responsible worker.” However, for him, the phrase “responsible work” would sound like a meaningless tautology. Because if you’re not responsible, then it’s not a job. One can imagine how such people lived in the nightmare of the second half of the 30s, and later during the “fight against cosmopolitanism” and the turn to great-power ideology. However, none of her family was ever arrested - despite the fact that they were always in the public eye and had a bad habit of not putting up with lies and injustice. According to family legend, the Matveyevs were saved by their acquaintance with the People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs, Litvinov. This is unlikely to be true - Mikhail Mikhailovich was soon removed from his post and miraculously escaped arrest. But however... Neither Yezhov, nor Beria, not to mention “himself,” would, of course, have taken the intercession of the disgraced People’s Commissar into account, but for the district security officers who decided the fate of the head of the local club, Litvinov remained a celestial being. We will return to “bookishness” and “romanticism” later, but for now let us note that young Novella never became a pioneer. This, of course, was hardly her choice. But it is difficult to consider this circumstance as accidental, knowing that later, having barely sensed the possibility of literary earnings, she immediately said goodbye to regular service. And then, during the difficult years, subsisting on rare and occasional translation fees, I didn’t even think about looking for a permanent job. There was nothing from the political opposition in this. The oldest of the “generation of janitors and watchmen” were still going to school, and the most independent part of the intelligentsia expressed disagreement with what was happening mainly in the form of the famous collective letters against this or that or in defense of that. Novella Matveeva, like all decent people, regularly signed such letters, and in general she never mastered the art of keeping silent in time. But on the whole she remained a completely loyal Soviet subject. Her persistent exclusion from any organizations, teams and job responsibilities reflected her attitude not towards the System, but towards herself. According to Novella Nikolaevna herself, she developed a craving for solitude in childhood. “From cowardice, probably from fear,” she says today. – I am a wild person, I don’t know how to behave. It's very easy for me to look funny. That’s why I try to be somehow separate...” The desire to “be somehow separate” resulted in a diligent avoidance of all forms of publicity. Photos of Novella Matveeva from the 60s - the time of her deafening fame as a songwriter - can literally be counted on one hand. And the appearances of the most popular author themselves were infrequent and unpredictable, and over the years they became increasingly rare. Fearless and graceful in verse and melody, Matveeva looked constrained and awkward on stage, in the spotlight, under the gaze of hundreds of strangers and under the gun of lenses. Introversion (this is the true name of Matveev’s “wildness”) is a common phenomenon for creators, who pay with it for the power and vividness of imagination. But for the songwriter, who combines a writer and a performer, it turns into a torture of forced contact with the public. People of the same mental make-up, but with a more decisive character, can prohibit filming in the hall, darkening the stage, etc. It was easier for Matveeva to simply refuse to perform. Moreover, by the second half of the 70s, life somehow got better. Collections of poetry began to be published more or less regularly, and in the pre-perestroika period, Matveeva’s discs seemed to come out more than all the other bards combined. True, if the records could still be bought, then Novella Matveeva’s books on the shelves not only did not remain stale, but did not appear at all. Ivan Kiuru involuntarily contributed to Matveeva’s separation from the world by taking upon himself the lion’s share of the communication she hated with editors, publishing houses and other offices. And if at times he managed to prove something to the indifferent literary overseers, then she was unable to protect him from a more merciless authority - the public. Since the early 70s, Matveeva has been writing songs based on poems by Kiuru, performing with him in concerts (perhaps Novella Nikolaevna’s only attempt to somehow use her popularity). But most fans did not share her admiration for her husband’s work: fair or not, the poet Ivan Kiuru remained in the shadow of the poet Novella Matveeva. Nota bene: here we are touching on a very sensitive topic that I really don't know about
I would like to talk. But too many unpleasant phantoms have bred under the veil of a vow of silence - seemingly not given by anyone, but observed by all Novella Nikolaevna’s well-wishers. There are much fewer people in our circle who are familiar with the poems of Ivan Kiuru than those who are familiar with the popular version about a patent graphomaniac, whom his talented wife, for purely personal reasons, tried in every possible way to promote. One day, a married couple was performing at a workshop at the DAC. “She, of course, is more talented than him, this always happens when both write,” Tatyana Kuprashevich, who was sitting next to me, whispered to me. "Are you a feminist?" – I asked. “Of course,” she smiled, “but that’s not the point. It’s just that when the husband is more talented than the wife, she stops writing altogether.” Having applied this unexpected rule to the array of data known to me, I did not find any refutations and could only supplement it with the passage “...or she ceases to be a wife.” So, maybe it’s good that Ivan Semenovich could not surpass his muse - poets are not interchangeable. And to be in the shadow of a genius, after all, is not a shame. Pushkin eclipsed a whole generation - with Baratynsky, Vyazemsky, Delvig... Kiuru died in 1992. Three years later, Mikhail Nodel, a young journalist and poet who in the 90s became Novella Matveeva’s secretary and literary agent, and in fact, an intermediary between her and the world, died unexpectedly and absurdly. For several years, Matveeva simply fell silent (although, through the efforts of her fans, books continued to be published). New poems (but not songs!) began to appear only at the very end of the 90s. Novella Nikolaevna herself completely dropped out of all public life, spending almost all her time in the winter in a city apartment, and in the summer at that very dacha in Skhodnya, where neighbors may not notice her presence for months. Kirill Speshnik |
ETERNAL NOVELLA
Non-anniversary notes about the great poet
( part two)
Romantic without romance
In any conversation about the poetry of Novella Matveeva, no later than the second phrase the word “romance” inevitably comes up. Her songs and poems, filled with the sea, ships, taverns, sails, lace, swords, seem to deliberately provoke reproaches of being secondary and “bookish.” (One can say that Matveev’s stories and characters are met literally “by their clothes.”) Many people say in all seriousness that Novella Matveeva is an escapist who has fled from our time into the world of invented, conventional antiquity. Approximately the same way that the painter and preacher Chesterton was perceived in his time as an author of detective stories (it’s good that Shakespeare was not assigned to the guild of action writers). Moreover, she herself does not mind.
Well, let's deal with “romance”.
From the school textbook we know that “romanticism is the depiction of extraordinary, exceptional characters in exceptional circumstances.” And we actually find such an image in Matveeva:
Despite the fact that you and I
There was no end to the exceptional,
They drove off, taking acceleration,
We are either one of a kind or out of the ordinary
Those coming out. (Is it out of the ordinary? You need to say,
That they also had to be kicked out of the house.)
Further, romanticism is a hero and a crowd, a chosen one of fate and a senseless redneck. And Novella Nikolaevna (in whose mouth, and even more so in her texts, the word “cattle” is simply impossible to imagine) does not avoid this problem:
Fortunately, those who work don't care
On all those “born to command” -
Where they are ordered to be born,
Not everyone is born to obey them!
Nota bene: “to those who work...” Labor occupies a very special place in Matveeva’s world. It is the attitude towards it - and not education (to which - or rather, the formal characteristics of which - the self-taught encyclopedist Matveeva treats without much reverence), not the level of income, not living in the village and not vocabulary - that determines belonging to the people. Matveeva’s people are a community of craftsmen. An aristocrat and even a monarch are very popular if he knows how to do something useful well. (And vice versa - mastery of work, even the most menial, elevates the worker to royal dignity: “And like a king in a purple robe, in the light of the firebox the stoker is red”.) But the shabby person from the gateway, whose work skills are limited to the ability to remove the cork and pour it into glasses, has nothing to do with the people.
Therefore, the paradoxical, stunning combination of aristocracy of spirit with a keen sense of one’s own belonging to the people is paradoxical only within the framework of who knows when (in any case, long before the Bolsheviks with their “class approach”) of the division into “people” and “pure public” imposed on us, into “people” and “gentlemen”. Within the framework of Matveeva’s own world (as well as to any unbiased view), there is nothing contradictory here. An aristocrat does not always possess skill (and, therefore, is not always popular), but every true master is thereby, as we have seen, already an aristocrat
But it seems that we were starting to talk about romanticism - let's continue. In romantic literature, action is almost mandatory. The poems of Novella Matveeva are addressed to the inner life of the soul - “what was going on in his quiet heart and what was boiling in his cauldron.” Her ability to maintain poetic tension in the complete absence of plot development is simply amazing - take, for example, a song about how old black man wants to sleep Or “Oh, what a long, long time we’ve been driving...” 1 : because nothing happens at all, the “plot development” is already very close to the very prose of Vasily Ivanovich from the joke (“Tsok-tsok-tsok...”) - and it’s impossible not to listen to the end and sing along!
Finally, can you imagine a romantic who defends common philistine truths? Defending it fiercely, passionately, poetically and stylistically brilliantly - and at the same time, perfectly understanding that these truths are commonplace and even directly calling them “Truisms”:
Is everything one? No, not everything is the same.
A flame, for example, is by no means an ice floe.
A cheat about the good of his neighbors is not a guardian.
And the violence – not virtue... 2
How many sworn romantics dare to subscribe to the last line?
In order to completely put an end to this literary misunderstanding, let us remember: Matveeva’s Novella also has an openly parodic use of the romantic form. (Indeed, is there anything more romantic than the figures of a noble caballero and his lady love - and here in “Embroidering a colored scarf...” we almost saw a barefoot hidalgo saying goodbye to his lord forever, so as not to get tired in vain!) And even a direct reproach to her, romance: look, they say, my dear, who you got involved with:
“If they don’t die, they’ll dig a grave for others,
Let their souls rush to their forefathers.
But... They symbolize romance -
At least thanks to the scoundrels for this!”
It’s as if it’s not even enough for her to call these “symbols of romance” scoundrels - she, using her ability to restore meaning and freshness to the most greasy words, intensifies her mercilessly contemptuous assessment:
“And the proud masts will be broken,
And the grass will break through the deck -
This is what ugly actions mean
And godless, stupid words!
That's all romance for you.
Yes, I almost forgot: why then does Novella Nikolaevna herself so readily say about herself “I am a romantic”?
Yes, because she is a romantic and is 4. Only here, as in the issue of nationality, she is guided not by common stereotypes and bad textbooks, but by primary sources. Those who created the very concept of literary romanticism. In particular, to her beloved Novalis: “The poetics of romanticism is the art of making an object strange and at the same time recognizable and attractive.” Such romanticism is not just inherent in Matveeva - she, one might say, is the only one who does this and has achieved incredible skill in this matter. Let us at least remember the textbook “Houses Without Roofs” - after all, it’s true, excuse the cheap pun, the roof is moving: a sublime, beautiful and magically romantic picture is made from an unfinished khrushchev house and rubbish lying around!
Nota bene: there is reason to think that this ability is a distinctive feature not so much of romanticism as a literary movement, but art in general as a special variety of human activity. Novalis himself elsewhere says something similar about poetry in general; Matveeva embodied this understanding in one of her best and most important poems, which we will talk about in more detail - “Poets”. However, modern art has learned to do well without this ability, and a number of its well-known (or even slightly forgotten) representatives have rather the opposite gift. Ironically, for one of these “great writers of our time” (in order not to remind this now, thank God, the faded name, let’s call him G. - this initial suits him very well) Novella Nikolaevna even became something of a godmother - not in literary, but in the most everyday sense. Alas, the prophet emerged as an unlucky fairy. However, as the classic literary fairy tale teaches us, not everything depends on the fairy - her gifts can make Cinderella happy, but not Tsakhes.
The above does not cancel the above. If I were not afraid of offending readers (they will think that I consider them fools), I would propose a bet that none of those who call Novella Matveeva a “romantic” use this word in the Novalisian sense. It would be easier to believe that persistent attempts to attach it to “romanticism” reflect the mental laziness of the writers: they say, since it’s about ships and blades, it’s a romantic. Alas, the situation is even worse: modern literary criticism simply does not have any suitable intellectual tools for working with such a phenomenon as the poetry of Novella Matveeva. Modern art, having proclaimed originality as the highest dignity of a work and an author, has not found either a place or a word for an untypeable talent, truly unlike anyone else and not following anyone. And he simply chose not to see him. The stubborn silence of criticism, the obsessive use of the past tense in relation to Matveeva is evidence not of a conspiracy, but of helplessness. Nobody knows what they eat with this exotic fruit, which suddenly grew on the tree of Russian poetry.
But it exists - and nothing can be done about it.
Swallow's student
So who exactly is she and where did she come from? There have been many attempts to “register” Matveeva in one literary tradition or another. It was classified as one of the sixties (on purely chronological grounds), taken straight out of the Silver Age. There is some truth in each such attempt - she inherits all these traditions at once, without swearing allegiance to any of them. She does not belong to any school; no famous poet can be considered her teacher. (Sometimes they call Marshak in this capacity, but Samuil Yakovlevich was presented with an already established poet, whom he helped to reach the reader.) It seems that she is the only poet in her generation who has not experienced the slightest influence of Mayakovsky (which even the most lyrical Sukharev did not escape) . When asked directly about teachers, she gives only one name - her mother, Nadezhda Matveeva (Orleneva), who published only a few poems in her entire life. And in poetry he answers directly and definitely: “The swallow taught us to sing, and to talk about it completely!” It was not said in passing: the title of the poem, which became the name of one of Matveeva’s most important collections, is based on this line - "Swallow School" .
And this is also true. Matveeva, having mastered and assimilated world culture as a self-taught person, became equally self-taught in her own work. (It’s not without reason that one of her most characteristic characters, who also gave the collection its name, is the Ship, which “ I impregnated myself with resin, dressed himself in both oak and metal, led himself on the voyage - his own pilot, his own boatswain, sailor, captain.") This path, having largely predetermined her current loneliness, at the same time gave her unprecedented freedom . She, who sang “Ode to Differences” (another name for “Truisms”), can suddenly say in an even voice and as if by chance: “But drink wine from a lady’s shoe and slurp cabbage soup with a bast shoe- same!" . After that, applicants for sophistication can weave whatever words they want, but even they themselves will no longer be able to get rid of this tasty “bast shoe”.
But the pebble is even more slimy:
Strange! Is it really some kind of grip?
Will the world lose in lotto?
According to Dostoevsky - EVERYONE is to blame
And according to Tolstoy - NOBODY.
It seems to us (the pillars are dear,
Classic, don't blame me!),
That only one is to blame. And others -
Not at all to blame.
I wonder which of today's outrageous people will dare to say this about not just anyone, but specifically about those two names with which Russia is positioned (brrr, what a word!) in world culture? To say, without dying from your own courage and without looking around, whether the television cameras are on, but like this - simply, respectfully and adamantly, as they say to colleagues who are loved and honored, but cannot agree on a specific issue? But damn it, someone had to say that at some point!
However, I probably remembered the unclean one in vain. In any case, Novella Nikolaevna herself would not approve of this - she does not use such a word at all. And the fact that it has enjoyed all literary rights for two hundred years does not change anything - Matveeva really cannot bring herself to write the name of the prince of darkness on paper. This constant violator of all literary decency has managed to carry through our age of the collapse of all taboos a downright Victorian attitude towards the slightest hint of obscenity. Having read and experienced a huge number of authors, which, it seems, no one except philologists remember, she found herself unable to finish reading Joyce to the end: “Everything about yourself, about every scratch! And then, he has an indecent..." Needless to say, in her own texts certain aspects of life, as well as the corresponding layers of vocabulary, are completely absent.
So, maybe her work, no matter how beautiful it is in itself, has no points of contact with reality at all? Maybe her boat is a sailboat in a bottle, elegant and sophisticated, but not designed for sailing?
One day, Evgeny Schwartz heard a young writer complain about the need to glorify all kinds of square-nest methods and peat-humus pots. Instead of sympathizing, the playwright gloomily promised: wait, they say, they will force you to do something else. “Yes, good for you, Evgeny Lvovich,” said the victim, “all this does not concern you, you write fairy tales!” “Sorry,” snapped the usually complacent Schwartz, “you write fairy tales!” And I write the truth."
Novella Matveeva could say the same about herself. Yes, in fact, she said it – if we continue the same boat metaphor:
Their wing is gracefully arched
And the stamping on them is so thin,
It's as if they were cooked under glass,
But they sent it anyway – into a hurricane!
In fact, Matveeva is a provocative author, the attitude towards her and her poems sorts readers/listeners. Without judgment and without too much regard for what they think about themselves. And the aforementioned silence of the theorists of “contemporary art”, who do not respond even to obvious slaps in the face, testifies: the only way to deal with such an author is to present the matter as if he does not exist. Not to refute, not to discredit, but to pretend that no one is here. “Throw Pushkin off the steamship of modernity.” When it has already been said “But the king is naked!”, the only answer the king or the rogue tailors can give is “Was there a boy?”
But Matveeva has her own way of being modern. She saw and understood the diseases that we suffer from today, 20 - 25 years ago. Remember:
When we first heard these lines, we, in our ignorance, applied them to the usual Soviet mess - exactly like the inhabitants of Ersildurn, who only in hindsight understood the meaning of the infallible prophecies of Thomas the Rhymer. But the real apotheosis of nonsense came much later. He also had heralds who now explain to us that all meanings are equal, that there is no high and low, and that the application of moral standards to art is an anachronism and hopelessly behind the times. They sincerely do not understand questions about truth or harmony: modernity is their only idol.
Some people are wonderful to me, by God!
Keep your nose in the wind and in step with your eyelids
pace – in their naive opinion
Same! I'm tormented by the question:
How is that possible?! – confusing your foot with your nose
And still strive to be in the first row!
– Novella Nikolaevna shrugged her shoulders many years ago. And then, in the above-mentioned “Truisms”, she uncompromisingly assessed the new faith proclaimed by these “other people”:
“Is everything one? No, not everything is the same.
There is no second leaf in the wilds!
Because if “everything is one” -
So everything is “permitted”! And period." 2
The one who is “on the crest” and “in the stream” sees only what is floating next to him and feels only the direction of the current at a given point. Anyone who stands on a high solid bank or flies up to the heavens sees the entire stream with all its turns - from source to mouth. The ancient setting, tomorrow's conflicts and book heroes exist for him at the same time. That is why the Skhodnensky recluse, in no hurry, so often finds herself ahead of the out of breath participants in the race against time.
I, of course, do not want to say that Matveeva always speaks the truth. It happens that ideas that are very dear to her turn out to be false. Remember her fierce anti-bourgeois, anti-philistine invective?
Only one thing is impossible
(Although not worth the effort):
Stick with a hollow for ducats
It will never bloom!
Contrary to this convinced and passionate prophecy, a miracle still happened: not just anywhere, but in her own genre, a person was found who combined the talents of a businessman and a poet-bard. And his poetics in spirit are very close to Matveev’s. However, he deserves a separate conversation, and I hope someday to begin this conversation at a level worthy of his talent. Here we will only say that even before his appearance, such a categorical verdict looked quite dubious. One had only to look at the canvases of Dutch artists of the 17th century, which were certainly familiar to Novella Nikolaevna - golden for both the bourgeoisie and painting. They are full of characters introduced like this: “Jaan van Schope – poet and tobacco merchant.” And first of all, it’s the “poet”.
Well, now we know it. And what, in the light of this knowledge, Matveev’s lines seem to us ideological and false, like an anti-globalist leaflet? Yes, nothing happened! And a line from the same “Poets” - “So wash the saucer after our cat!” - will not lose its bitingness if you know that its author will not trust every poet to wash the saucer for his beloved Turnip. Matveev's novella may be wrong, it may be disingenuous, but it is never uninteresting.
How else can a person whose name is Novella live? Before becoming the name of a literary genre, this word simply meant “news,” “news.” And as we know from the most competent source, “talent is the only news that is always new.”
Kirill Speshnik
Notes (I.B.):
1. MP3 recordings are listed from the following music publications:
"What a big wind"(performed by the ensemble "Ulenspiegel")
But in general, of course, you just need to always have the complete collection on hand -
NOVELLA NIKOLAEVNA MATVEEVA
HTTP://RKPM.RU/CONTENT/VIEW/993/135/
Novella Nikolaevna Matveeva - Russian poet, prose writer, bard, playwright, literary critic. Not everyone knows that her repertoire includes a lot of wonderful children's songs. Novella Nikolaevna was born on October 7, 1934 in Tsarskoye Selo, now the city of Pushkin, Leningrad region.
Father, Nikolai Nikolaevich Matveev-Bodry, is a geographer by profession, a local historian of the Far East, a full member of the All-Union Geographical Society. Mother - Matveeva-Orleneva Nadezhda Timofeevna, poetess. Grandfather, Matveev-Amursky, Nikolai Petrovich, was also a poet and author of the first “History of the City of Vladivostok”. Among her ancestors were musicians, peasants, sailors, a violin maker and even a ship's paramedic. Husband - Kiuru Ivan Semenovich (1934-1992), was also a poet.
She began to write under the influence of her mother, Nadezhda Timofeevna. Mom was a person of high culture and great artistry. She loved poetry very much and read poetry very well. It was she who introduced her daughter to Pushkin’s work; in her amazing recitation, Novella heard the poet’s poems for the first time. Thanks to my mother, music was constantly playing in the house. She sang Russian, gypsy, and Italian songs beautifully.
Novella Matveeva began writing her first poems as a child, during the war. It was in the Moninsky hospital, where she was treated for acute vitamin deficiency, which had affected her eyes. Her father was the first listener of her poems. He worked as a political instructor at the hospital. At the age of nine, Novella wrote:
“The firefly sparkled in the dew, like a moment of quick thought,
And somewhere the cool voice of a bird trembled..."
Already in those years, having heard that the bird’s voice was cool...
At the same time, she tried to compose music based on her own poems, as well as on poems by A. Gladkov, V. Agnivtsev, W. Shakespeare, M. Lermontov, A. Fet...
Novella Matveeva spoke about her childhood: “I was very mature when I was little...”.
From 1950 to 1957, Matveeva worked in an orphanage in the Shchelkovsky district of the Moscow region.
In the early 1960s, a girl with an unusual, bewitching voice and a guitar in her hands was noticed and immediately fell in love. She was one of the first poets who set her poems to music and performed them with a guitar. Her songs were played on amateur tape recorders.
Then the first record “Songs” was released (M.: Melodiya, 1966).
In 1961 she was accepted into the USSR Writers' Union.
In 1962, Novella Nikolaevna Matveeva graduated from the Higher Literary Courses at the A.M. Literary Institute. Gorky and became a professional writer.
Since 1972, Novella Matveeva began composing songs based on the poems of her husband, the poet Ivan Kiuru. The most famous and popular songs of Novella Matveeva were: “Song of the Mule Driver” (“Oh, how long, long have we been driving...”), “Wind” (“What a big wind...”), “Drainpipes” (“Rain , evening rain..."), "Girl from the tavern" ("You were afraid of my love in vain..."), "Outskirts" ("It was a summer night..."), "Captains without mustaches" ("Here is the front I have a blue sea..."), "Dolphinia Country" ("Blue waves are coming..."), "Magician" ("Oh, you magician..."), "Gypsy" ("Merry gypsies walked around Moldova. .."), "Organ Grinder" ("Snow was falling on the ground..."), etc.
But few people know that she is also a magnificent children's poet. In the sixties she published the book “Sunny Bunny”, and in 1984 - “Rabbit Village.” “I sculpt from plasticine
(Plasticine is softer than clay)
I sculpt from plasticine
Dolls, clowns, dogs...
If the doll turns out badly,
I’ll call her Durekha,
If the clown turns out badly,
I'll call him Fool.
Two brothers came up to me
They came up and said:
Is it the doll's fault?
Is it the clown’s fault?...”
This song based on the verses of Novella Matveeva, the music for which was written by Sergei Nikitin, is loved not only by children, but also by adults. A reasoning song, a song that makes you think about your actions.
And the unforgettable country of Dolphinia? Green's romance of distant travels. The depth of perception by a child’s consciousness of what you will see if you close your eyes is Infinite, and only a generous wizard from a fairy tale can endow it with an eternal, subtle and vulnerable soul. This wizard is Novella Matveeva.
“Blue waves are coming.
Green?
- No, blue!...
...And somewhere there is a country called Dolphinia
And the city of Kangaroo.
-It is far!
-Well, what then?
I'll go there too..."
Novella Matveeva’s poems must be read aloud and then you can hear wonderful strings in them: one of them is a guitar string. Many have become songs that are on everyone’s lips: “Ship”, “Brothers-Captains”, “Captains without Mustaches!”, “Dolphinia”, “Road”, “Girl and Plasticine”, etc. It is published, re-released, recorded, arranged, but most importantly, it is sung and the songs are alive and well. One generation of listeners after another is immersed in their bright and magical world, and it is no longer possible to distinguish children from adults - their philosophy is so deep. She continues to work, and the sincere love of her listeners is her reward for her natural talent and many years of work.
Here is how the wonderful children's poet Valentin Berestov spoke about the work of Novella Matveeva:
“How loudly we sang and sing with your parents to the sound of a guitar, Novella Matveeva’s songs. My heart skips a beat when I hear or sing myself:
We are captains, brother captains!
We paved the way to the ocean,
We cut through the water with our daring keel
And weeded out underwater grasses.
But to the ships that follow us,
We'll have to fight the same waves
And grind from the same pain,
I stripped my ribs on the same rocks!”
These songs called many of us on a long journey and helped us cheerfully endure the difficulties of the journey in the sand, in the ice, in the taiga, in the ocean.”
In 1984, the Central Children's Theater in Moscow staged N. Matveeva's play "Egle's Prediction" - a free fantasy based on A. Green, containing 33 of her original songs.
She has written more than 30 books of poetry, prose and translations. Among them: “Lyrics” (1961), “Boat” (1963), “The Soul of Things” (1966), “Sunny Bunny” (1966), “Swallow School” (1973), “River” (1978), “The Law” songs" (1983), "Surfland" (1983), "Rabbit Village" (1984), "Favorites" (1986), "Praise to Work" (1987), "Indissoluble Circle" (1991), "Melody for Guitar" (1998), “Dream Tape” (1998), “Sonnets” (1998), “Caravan” (2000), “Jasmine” (2001).
Records by singer-songwriter N. Matveeva were released: “Songs” (Melody, 1967), “Poems and Songs” (Melodiya, 1966), “The Road is My Home” (Melodiya, 1982), “Music of Light” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1984), "Ballads" (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1985), "My little crow" (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986), "Red-haired girl" (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986) and CDs "What a Big Wind" (ASP, 1997), "Girl from a Tavern" (ASP, 1997), "Matveeva's Novella" (Moroz Records, 1999), "Best Songs" (Moscow windows, 2000), "Desperate Mary", "Tavern "Fours".
In 1996, a book of memoirs, “The Ball Left in the Sky,” was published.
In 1998, Novella Matveeva became a laureate of the Pushkin Prize in poetry.
Russian poet, prose writer, bard, playwright, literary critic.
Born on October 7, 1934 in Tsarskoe Selo (now the city of Pushkin), Leningrad region. Graduated from the Higher Literary Courses at the Literary Institute named after. A.M. Gorky (1962).
Member of the Union of Writers of the USSR since 1961. She writes songs based on her own poems, as well as on the poems of the poet Ivan Kiuru, whom she married in 1963.
In 1962, Novella Matveeva graduated from the Higher Literary Courses at the Literary Institute named after A.M. Gorky. She became a professional writer. In 1961 she was accepted into the USSR Writers' Union.
The poetry of Novella Matveeva is dominated by the lyric-romantic element. It reflects the high humanistic feelings of man, his dreams and fantasies, and the colorful natural world that surrounds him. She also writes a lot for children. In addition, Novella Matveeva is engaged in translations, writes parodies and epigrams, and writes articles on issues of literature and art.
In total, she has written more than 30 books of poetry, prose and translations. Among them: “Lyrics” (1961), “Boat” (1963), “The Soul of Things” (1966), “Sunny Bunny” (1966), “Swallow School” (1973), “River” (1978), “The Law” songs" (1983), "Surfland" (1983), "Rabbit Village" (1984), "Favorites" (1986), "Praise to Work" (1987), "Indissoluble Circle" (1991), "Melody for Guitar" (1998), “Dream Tape” (1998), “Sonnets” (1998), “Caravan” (2000), “Jasmine” (2001).
As a singer-songwriter, N. Matveeva recorded the following records: “Songs” (Melodiya, 1967), “Poems and Songs” (Melodiya, 1966), “The Road is My Home” (Melodiya, 1982), “Music of Light” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1984), “Ballads” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1985), “My little crow” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986), “Red-haired girl” (co-authored with I. Kiuru, Melodiya, 1986) and CDs “What a Big Wind” (ASP, 1997), “The Girl from the Tavern” (ASP, 1997), “Matveeva’s Novella” (Moroz Records, 1999), “The Best Songs” ( Moscow Windows, 2000), “Desperate Mary”, “Tavern “Fours”.
In 1984, the Central Children's Theater in Moscow staged N. Matveeva's play "Egle's Prediction" - a free fantasy based on A. Green, containing 33 of her original songs.
Novella Matveeva is the author of hundreds of publications in periodicals. More than a hundred articles by famous poets, writers, critics and literary scholars are devoted to her work. Among their authors are E. Evtushenko, L. Anninsky, E. Vinokurov, V. Ognev, Z. Paperny, V. Lakshin, S. Marshak, S. Chuprinin, G. Krasnikov, B. Okudzhava, E. Kamburova, D. Granin , Y. Smelyakov, V. Tsybin, B. Slutsky, V. Berestov, A. Urban, Y. Smelkov and others.
Personal adversity and the occasional misunderstanding of some critics, art critics, editors and publishers did not break Novella Nikolaevna’s will. She continues to work actively to the delight of numerous fans of her work. In 1998 N.N. Matveeva was awarded the title of laureate of the Pushkin Prize in poetry.
Died: September 4, 2016
You explained the music in words.
But, apparently, she doesn’t need words -
Otherwise, she, competing with you,
I would express myself in words.
And never (for accuracy in science)
I wouldn't waste time on sounds.
Blue waves are coming.
Green? No, blue ones.
Like millions of chameleons,
Changing color in the wind.
Wisteria blooms tenderly -
She is softer than frost...
And the city of Kangaroo.
It is far! So what? -
I'll go there too.
Oh, my God, you, my God,
What will happen without me?
The palm trees will dry up without me,
Roses will die without me,
The birds will fall silent without me -
This is what will happen without me.
Yes, but without me once again
The ship "Porcupine" has sailed.
How can I have such trouble
Will I erase it from my memory?
And yesterday it came, it came, it came
Letter to me, letter, letter
With the stamp of my Delphinia,
With Kangaroo stamp.
White envelopes from the mail
They burst like magnolia buds,
They smell like jasmine, but that's what
My relatives write to me:
Palm trees don't dry without me,
Roses don't die without me,
The birds won't be silent without me...
How can this happen without me?
Blue waves are coming.
Green? No, blue ones.
Bitter tears come...
I'll brush it off, shake it off, erase it.
Wisteria blooms tenderly -
She is softer than frost...
And somewhere there is a land called Delphinia
And the city of Kangaroo.
Poets come to earth to renew them.
It’s not scary to be with them under the stars: you wait for them as if you were waiting for peace.
They will open the door and ask so importantly: “Well, what is it here?
The world is in chaos again without us!”
(There is vanity all around:
The mouse catches the cat
The sleeves are sewn to the bridge...
Every insect asks for protection
Poor giant!
Green and scarlet
There is smoke on the leaves;
Their velvet is tired
Exhausted in the heat...)
Entering with such words on the earth of the planet,
The poets get down to business, shaking their heads:
The magic dew of inspiration sprinkles the unhappy world
And excitement is returned to the hearts, and a clear mind to the foreheads.
And how much work is still ahead!
Burn alive
Die from wounds
Carrying eras on our backs,
Trembling, conjure the seas in the basins,
Support the sky!
(It shines with rays
Dew on a leaf
Hastening, it sprouts
Grain in the furrow.)
Hello to the glorious writers, whose destinies are wonderful!
But poets are disgusted by sausage makers, secret and open -
That other people's sorrows interfere, questions are resolved...
“Ah, questions didn’t interfere with our lives: answers do!”
And they will say these words to the guys:
"You have gained fame,
You are the firmament
held on weak shoulders,
You have moved mountains
Back on track
Waves of menacing waters..."
Then they'll laugh
And then they will say:
"So wash the saucer
For our cat!
When words and objects lose their meaning,
Poets come to earth to renew them,
Their anguish over the solution to nasty, damned questions -
This is the hard labor of superstitious ancient sailors,
Saving the old Earth schooner.
* The song was written in 1963
Aigle's prediction
Come to me, I see drops of tears in your eyes.
There is a lot of evil in the world, but you don’t have to take everything seriously.
Don't trust the earth, callous and dry, trust the wave of the seas.
Let her slide, tease and threaten - there is more truth in her.
The years will pass in quick succession, like water in a stream.
You see that cliff and the expanse of the sea - look there.
There, in the distance of the sea, you will see the shine of scarlet sails.
From the steep banks exactly at five o'clock you will see them.
This will be a brig from distant countries, from other latitudes.
Exactly at five o'clock the boat will depart from its sides,
And the handsome prince, the fairy-tale hero, your betrothed,
Cheerful and smart, slim and tall, he will step on the sand.
Listen, he will only come to save you.
If he doesn’t find you right away, forgive him!
Steps onto the sand - the joy on his face is as strong as pain -
He will say: “Good afternoon!” He will ask: “Where does Assol live here?”
Don't be sad, don't cry. Don’t hide your clear eyes, wipe away the tears from them.
Believe my words, look at the sea more often in the morning.
Trust the wave of the seas. Believe in your destiny. Your time will come.
You will see the shine of scarlet sails - it’s behind you.
Did the jasmine bloom or bloom in the lowlands...
Did jasmine bloom or bloom in the lowlands?
In a light fog - did it show through, didn’t it?
Poor storyteller of bygone times,
You made it all up, you distorted everything!
You know something else, but you remember one thing.
You drive away hard reality like smoke.
Muddy, weedy, black bottom
Everything seems like gold to you!
The years pass with a royal pace,
Decorating the face with stolen glitter...
We will always draw from childhood,
Even if there was nothing in it!
Wasn't it early sunset?
Did the fire call in the distance?
Fortunatus went down a dark road,
An impostor ringing in an empty wallet.
Tavern Girl
You were afraid of my love in vain -
That's not how I love terribly.
To meet your smile.
And if you left for someone else
Or maybe I just didn’t know where,
It was enough for me that your
The cloak hung on a nail.
When, our fleeting guest,
You rushed off, looking for a new destiny,
It was enough for me that the nail
Left after the cloak.
Fog, wind and rain.
And in the house there is an event - nothing worse:
A nail was removed from the wall.
Fog, and wind, and the sound of rain,
The passage of days, the rustle of years,
It was enough for me that from the nail
There was a small trace left.
When did the nail mark disappear?
Under the old painter's brush,
I was content with the fact that
The nail was visible yesterday.
You were afraid of my love in vain.
That's not how I love terribly.
It was enough for me to see you
To meet your smile.
And catch in the warm wind again
Now the violins are crying, now the timpani are brass...
What will I get from this?
You don't understand that.
Novella Matveeva
Girl and plasticine
Poems by N. Matveeva
Music by S. Nikitin
I sculpt from plasticine
Plasticine is softer than clay.
I sculpt from plasticine
Dolls, clowns, dogs.
If the doll comes out badly -
I'll call her a fool
If the clown turns out badly -
I'll call him a fool.
Two brothers came up to me.
They came up and said:
"Is it the doll's fault?
Is it the clown's fault?
You sculpt them rather roughly
You don't love them enough
It's your own fault,
And no one is to blame."
La-la-la, la-la, la-la.
I sculpt from plasticine
And I sigh heavily myself,
I sculpt from plasticine
I say this:
If the doll comes out badly -
I'll call her... poor thing,
If the clown turns out badly -
I'll call him... poor man.
I dreamed of seas and corals...
Poems by N. Matveeva
Music Flyarkovsky A.
I dreamed of seas and corals.
I wanted to eat turtle soup.
I stepped onto the ship, and the boat
turned out to be from yesterday's newspaper.
One winter comes, then another.
Outside the window the snowstorm howls.
Only parrots speak in cages
and in the forest they forget their language.
And in the spring I don’t believe in separations,
And I’m not afraid of drizzling drops.
And in the spring, different animals molt.
Only the sunbeam does not shed.
Huge mountains appeared at the foot.
I fall to the foot with my cheek.
But that daisy has not yet grown,
on which I tell myself fortunes.
