Lev (Leib) Moiseevich Kvitko- Jewish (Yiddish) poet. He wrote in Yiddish. Born in the town of Goloskov, Podolsk province (now the village of Goloskovo, Khmelnytsky region of Ukraine), according to documents - November 11, 1890, but did not know the exact date of his birth and presumably called 1893 or 1895. He was orphaned at an early age, was brought up by his grandmother, studied for some time in a cheder, was forced to work from childhood, changed many professions, self-taught, mastered Russian literacy, and was engaged in self-education. He began writing poetry at the age of 12 (or, perhaps, earlier - due to confusion with the date of his birth). The first publication in May 1917 in the socialist newspaper "Dos fraye vort" (" free speech"). The first collection is "Lidelekh" ("Songs", Kyiv, 1917).
Representatives of the Joint with the leaders of the Kyiv Culture League. Sitting (from left to right): artist M. Epshtein, poet L. Kvitko, artist I.-B. Rybak, artist B. Aronson, artist I. Chaikov. Stand: literary critic Ba'al-Mahashavot, unknown, E. Wurzanger (Joint), philologist Ba'al-Dimiyon (N. Shtif), C. Spivak (Joint), philologist Z. Kalmanovich, writer D. Bergelson, former Minister for Jewish Affairs in government of the Central Rada V. Latsky-Bertholdi. Kyiv. May-June 1920. From the book by M. Beiser, M. Mitsel “American Brother. Joint in Russia, USSR, CIS” (without year and place of publication).
Revolution
In 1917 Kvitko settled in Kyiv. The publication of his poems in the collection "Eigns" put him in the triad (together with D. Gofshtein and P. Markish) of the leading poets of the so-called Kyiv group. The poem "Reuter storm" written by him in October 1918 ("Red Storm", the newspaper "Dos Vort", 1918, and the magazine "Baginen", 1919) was the first work in Yiddish about October revolution. However, in the collections "Trit" ("Steps", 1919) and "Lyric. Geist ”(“ Lyrics. Spirit ”, 1921) next to the youthfully fervent perception of the revolution sounded anxious confusion before the gloomy and mysterious in life, which, according to S. Niger, made Kvitko and Der Nister’s work related.
In Kvitko's poems of these years, a simple-heartedly open view of the world (which makes all his work for children especially attractive), a refined depth of perception of the world, poetic innovation, and expressionistic searches were combined with the transparent clarity of a folk song. Their language strikes with richness and idiomatic coloring.
From the middle of 1921 he lived and published in Berlin, then in Hamburg, where he worked in the Soviet trade mission, published in both Soviet and Western periodicals. Here he joined the Communist Party, led communist agitation among the workers. In 1925, fearing arrest, he moved to the USSR. He published many books for children (17 books were published in 1928 alone).
At the end of the 1920s, he became a member of the editorial board of the journal Di roite welt, in which his cycle of stories about life in Hamburg, Riogrander fel (Riogrand skins, 1926; separate edition 1928), his autobiographical story Lam un Petrik "("Lyam and Petrik", 1928–29; separate edition 1930; in Russian translation 1958) and other works. In 1928 alone, 17 books by Kvitko for children were published. Kvitko's satirical poems in "Di roite welt", which then formed the "Caricature" ("Cartoons") section in his collection "Gerangl" ("Fight", 1929), and especially the poem "Der Stinklfoigl Moili" ("Moili's Stinky Bird" , that is, My[she] Li[tvakov] / see M. Litvakov /) against the dictates in the literature of the leaders of the Evsektsiya, caused a devastating campaign, during which the “proletarian” writers accused Kvitko of a “right deviation” and succeeded in expelling him from the editorial board magazine. At the same time, writers-"fellow travelers" - D. Gofshtein, editor of the state publishing house H. Kazakevich (1883-1936) and others were subjected to administrative repressions.
30s
For caustic satirical verses published in the magazine "Di roite welt" ("Red World"), he was accused of "right deviation" and expelled from the editorial office of the magazine. In 1931 he entered the Kharkov Tractor Plant as a worker. Then he continued his professional literary activity. Only after the liquidation of literary associations and groups in 1932 did Kvitko take one of the leading places in Soviet literature in Yiddish, mainly as children's writer. His poems, which compiled the collection Geklibene Werk (Selected Works, 1937), already fully met the standards of so-called socialist realism. Autocensorship also affected his novel in verse, Junge Jorn (Young Years), advance copies of which appeared on the eve of the invasion. German troops to the territory Soviet Union(the novel was published in Russian translation in 1968; 16 chapters in Yiddish were published in 1956–63 in the Parisian newspaper Pariser Zeitshrift). From 1936 he lived in Moscow. In 1939 he joined the CPSU (b).
Lev Kvitko considered the autobiographical novel in verse "Junge Jorn" ("Young Years"), on which he worked for thirteen years (1928-1941, first publication: Kaunas, 1941, in Russian, came out in 1968) as the life's work.
Creativity of the war years
during the war years he was a member of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee and the editorial board of the EAK newspaper "Einikait" ("Unity"), in 1947-1948. - literary and artistic almanac "heimland" ("Motherland"). His collections of poems Fire oif di sonim (Fire on the Enemy, 1941) and others called for the fight against the Nazis. Poems 1941–46 compiled the collection "Gezang fun mein gemit" ("Song of my soul", 1947; in Russian translation 1956). Kvitko's poems for children are widely published and translated into many languages. They were translated into Russian
Lev (Leib) Moiseevich Kvitko - Jewish (Yiddish) poet. Born in the town of Goloskov, Podolsk province (now the village of Goloskov, Khmelnitsky region of Ukraine), according to documents - November 11, 1890. He was orphaned at an early age, was brought up by his grandmother, studied in a cheder for some time, and was forced to work from childhood. He began writing poetry in 1902. The first publication was in May 1917 in the socialist newspaper Dos Frae Worth (Free Word). The first collection is "Lidelekh" ("Songs", Kyiv, 1917).
From the middle of 1921 he lived and published in Berlin, then in Hamburg, where he worked in the Soviet trade mission, published in both Soviet and Western periodicals. Here he joined the Communist Party, led communist agitation among the workers. In 1925, fearing arrest, he moved to the USSR. He published many books for children (17 books were published in 1928 alone). It is thanks to children's works that he gained fame.
For caustic satirical verses published in the magazine "Di roite welt" ("Red World"), he was accused of "right deviation" and expelled from the editorial office of the magazine. In 1931 he entered the Kharkov Tractor Plant as a worker. Then he continued his professional literary activity. Lev Kvitko considered the autobiographical novel in verse "Junge Yorn" ("Young Years"), on which he worked for thirteen years (1928-1941), to be his life's work. The first publication of the novel took place in Kaunas in 1941; the novel was published in Russian only in 1968.
Since 1936 he lived in Moscow. In 1939 he joined the CPSU (b).
During the war years, he was a member of the Presidium of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAC) and the editorial board of the JAC newspaper "Einikait" ("Unity"), in 1947-1948 - the literary and artistic almanac "Motherland". In the spring of 1944, on the instructions of the JAC, he was sent to the Crimea.
Among the leading figures of the JAC, Lev Kvitko was arrested on January 23, 1949. On July 18, 1952, he was accused by the Military Collegium of the Supreme Court of the USSR of treason and sentenced to the highest measure of social protection. On August 12, 1952, he was shot. He was buried at the Donskoy cemetery in Moscow. He was posthumously rehabilitated by the VKVS of the USSR on November 22, 1955.
a lion (Leib) Moiseevich Kvitko(Yiddish לייב קוויטקאָ ; October 15 - August 12) - Soviet Jewish (Yiddish) poet.
Biography
Born in the town of Goloskov, Podolsk province (now the village of Goloskov, Khmelnytsky region of Ukraine), according to documents - November 11, 1890, but did not know the exact date of his birth and presumably called 1893 or 1895. Orphaned at an early age, brought up by his grandmother, studied for some time in a cheder, and was forced to work from childhood. He began writing poetry at the age of 12 (or, perhaps, earlier - due to confusion with the date of his birth). The first publication was in May 1917 in the socialist newspaper Dos Frie Worth (Free Word). The first collection is "Lidelekh" ("Songs", Kyiv, 1917).
From the middle of 1921 he lived and published in Berlin, then in Hamburg, where he worked in the Soviet trade mission, published in both Soviet and Western periodicals. Here he joined the Communist Party, led communist agitation among the workers. In 1925, fearing arrest, he moved to the USSR. He published many books for children (17 books were published in 1928 alone).
Translations
Lev Kvitko is the author of a number of Yiddish translations from Ukrainian, Belarusian and other languages. The poems of Kvitko himself were translated into Russian by A. Akhmatova, S. Marshak, S. Mikhalkov, E. Blaginina, M. Svetlov and others.
On the text of the poem by L. Kvitko "Violin" (translated by M. Svetlov), the second part of the Sixth Symphony by Moses Weinberg was written.
Editions in Russian
- On a visit. M.-L., Detizdat, 1937
- When I grow up. M., Detizdat, 1937
- In the forest. M., Detizdat, 1937
- Letter to Voroshilov. M., 1937 Fig. V. Konashevich
- Letter to Voroshilov. M., 1937. Fig. M. Rodionova
- Poetry. M.-L., Detizdat, 1937
- Swing. M., Detizdat, 1938
- Red Army. M., Detizdat, 1938
- Horse. M., Detizdat, 1938
- Lyam and Petrik. M.-L., Detizdat, 1938
- Poetry. M.-L., Detizdat, 1938
- Poetry. M., Pravda, 1938
- On a visit. M., Detizdat, 1939
- Lullaby. M., 1939. Fig. M. Gorshman
- Lullaby. M., 1939. Fig. V. Konashevich
- Letter to Voroshilov. Pyatigorsk, 1939
- Letter to Voroshilov. Voroshilovsk, 1939
- Letter to Voroshilov. M., 1939
- Mihasik. M., Detizdat, 1939
- Talk. M.-L., Detizdat, 1940
- Ahahah. M., Detizdat, 1940
- Conversations with loved ones. M., Goslitizdat, 1940
- Red Army. M.-L., Detizdat, 1941
- Hello. M., 1941
- War game. Alma-Ata, 1942
- Letter to Voroshilov. Chelyabinsk, 1942
- On a visit. M., Detgiz, 1944
- Horse. M., Detgiz, 1944
- Sledging. Chelyabinsk, 1944
- Spring. M.-L., Detgiz, 1946
- Lullaby. M., 1946
- Horse. M., Detgiz, 1947
- A story about a horse and about me. L., 1948
- Horse. Stavropol, 1948
- Violin. M.-L., Detgiz, 1948
- To the sun. M., Der Emes, 1948
- To my friends. M., Detgiz, 1948
- Poetry. M., Soviet writer, 1948.
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An excerpt characterizing Kvitko, Lev Moiseevich
Natasha was 16 years old, and it was 1809, the same year until which, four years ago, she counted on her fingers with Boris after she kissed him. Since then, she has never seen Boris. In front of Sonya and with her mother, when the conversation turned to Boris, she spoke quite freely, as if about a matter settled, that everything that had happened before was childish, about which it was not worth even talking about, and which had long been forgotten. But in the most secret depths of her soul, the question of whether the commitment to Boris was a joke or an important, binding promise tormented her.Ever since Boris left Moscow for the army in 1805, he had not seen the Rostovs. Several times he visited Moscow, passing not far from Otradnoye, but he never visited the Rostovs.
It sometimes occurred to Natasha that he did not want to see her, and her guesses were confirmed by the sad tone in which the elders used to say about him:
“In this century, old friends are not remembered,” the countess said after the mention of Boris.
Anna Mikhailovna, in Lately visiting the Rostovs less often, she also behaved in a particularly dignified manner, and each time spoke enthusiastically and gratefully about the merits of her son and about the brilliant career in which he was. When the Rostovs arrived in St. Petersburg, Boris came to visit them.
He rode towards them not without emotion. The memory of Natasha was the most poetic memory of Boris. But at the same time, he rode with the firm intention of making it clear to her and her family that the childish relationship between him and Natasha could not be an obligation either for her or for him. He had a brilliant position in society, thanks to intimacy with Countess Bezukhova, a brilliant position in the service, thanks to the patronage of an important person, whose trust he fully enjoyed, and he had nascent plans to marry one of the richest brides in St. Petersburg, which could very easily come true. . When Boris entered the Rostovs' living room, Natasha was in her room. Upon learning of his arrival, she flushed almost ran into the living room, beaming with more than an affectionate smile.
Boris remembered that Natasha in a short dress, with black eyes shining from under her curls and with a desperate, childish laugh, whom he knew 4 years ago, and therefore, when a completely different Natasha entered, he was embarrassed, and his face expressed enthusiastic surprise. This expression on his face delighted Natasha.
“What, do you recognize your little friend as a minx?” said the Countess. Boris kissed Natasha's hand and said that he was surprised at the change that had taken place in her.
- How you have improved!
“Sure!” answered Natasha's laughing eyes.
- Is your father old? she asked. Natasha sat down and, without entering into a conversation between Boris and the countess, silently examined her children's fiancé to the smallest detail. He felt the weight of that stubborn, affectionate look on himself, and from time to time glanced at her.
Uniform, spurs, tie, Boris's hairstyle, all this was the most fashionable and comme il faut [quite decently]. Natasha noticed this now. He sat a little sideways on an armchair near the countess, adjusting with his right hand the cleanest, drenched glove on his left, he spoke with a special, refined pursing of his lips about the amusements of high Petersburg society and with gentle mockery recalled former Moscow times and Moscow acquaintances. Not accidentally, as Natasha felt it, he mentioned, naming the highest aristocracy, about the ball of the envoy, which he was at, about invitations to NN and to SS.
Natasha sat all the time in silence, looking at him from under her brows. This look more and more disturbed and embarrassed Boris. He often looked back at Natasha and interrupted his stories. He sat for no more than 10 minutes and stood up, bowing. All the same curious, defiant and somewhat mocking eyes looked at him. After his first visit, Boris told himself that Natasha was just as attractive to him as before, but that he should not give in to this feeling, because marrying her - a girl with almost no fortune - would be the death of his career, and resuming the old relationship without the purpose of marriage would be an ignoble act. Boris decided on his own to avoid meeting Natasha, but, despite this decision, he arrived a few days later and began to travel often and spend whole days with the Rostovs. It seemed to him that he needed to explain himself to Natasha, to tell her that everything old should be forgotten, that, despite everything ... she cannot be his wife, that he has no fortune, and she will never be given for him. But he did not succeed in everything and it was embarrassing to start this explanation. Every day he became more and more confused. Natasha, according to the remark of her mother and Sonya, seemed to be in love with Boris in the old way. She sang his favorite songs to him, showed him her album, forced him to write in it, did not allow him to remember the old, letting him know how wonderful the new was; and every day he left in a fog, without saying what he intended to say, not knowing himself what he was doing and why he came, and how it would end. Boris stopped visiting Helen, received daily reproachful notes from her, and yet spent whole days with the Rostovs.
One evening, when the old countess, sighing and groaning, in a night cap and blouse, without overhead letters, and with one poor tuft of hair protruding from under a white calico cap, was laying prostrations of the evening prayer on the rug, her door creaked, and in shoes on her bare feet, also in a blouse and hairpins, Natasha ran in. The Countess looked back and frowned. She was finishing her last prayer: “Will this coffin be my bed?” Her prayer mood was destroyed. Natasha, red and animated, seeing her mother at prayer, suddenly stopped in her run, sat down and involuntarily stuck out her tongue, threatening herself. Noticing that her mother was continuing her prayer, she ran on tiptoe to the bed, quickly sliding one small foot against the other, kicked off her shoes and jumped onto that bed, for which the countess was afraid that he would not be her coffin. This bed was high, feather-bed, with five ever-decreasing pillows. Natasha jumped up, drowned in a featherbed, rolled over to the wall and began to fiddle under the covers, laying down, bending her knees to her chin, kicking her legs and laughing a little audibly, now covering her head, then looking at her mother. The countess finished her prayer and with a stern face went up to the bed; but, seeing that Natasha was covered with her head, she smiled her kind, weak smile.
“Well, well, well,” said the mother.
“Mom, can we talk, huh?” – said Natasha. - Well, in the darling once, well, more, and it will be. And she took her mother's neck and kissed her under the chin. In her treatment of her mother, Natasha showed outward rudeness of manner, but she was so sensitive and dexterous that no matter how she wrapped her arms around her mother, she always knew how to do it so that the mother would not be hurt, unpleasant, or embarrassed.
Kvitko Lev (Leib) Moiseevich
(11.11.1890–1952)
Poet of a great soul...
Fascination with the outside world made him a children's writer; on behalf of a child, under the guise of a child, through the mouths of five-year-olds, six-year-olds, seven-year-olds, it was easier for him to express his love for life, his simple belief that life was created for boundless joy.
He was so friendly, ruddy and white-toothed that the children rejoiced even before he began to read poetry. And Lev Kvitko's poems are very similar to himself - they are just as bright. And what only they don’t have: horses and kitties, pipes, violins, beetles, butterflies, birds, animals and many, many different people- small and adults. And above all this shines the sun of love for everything that lives, breathes, moves, blooms.
The Jewish poet Lev, or Leib (in Yiddish - it is "lion"), Kvitko was born in the village of Goloskovo, in Ukraine, in a clay, whitewashed house on the very bank of the Southern Bug River. The exact date of birth is unknown - 1890 or 1893 (October 15 or November 11). wrote in his autobiography: "I was born in 1895."
The family was large, but unhappy: she was in poverty. Yes, my father was a jack of all trades: a carpenter, bookbinder, wood carver, but he was rarely at home, wandered around the villages - taught. All the brothers and sisters of little Leib died of tuberculosis, and the parents also died of the same disease. At the age of ten, the boy was left an orphan. like another famous writer, Maxim Gorky, his contemporary, he went to the "people" - he worked at the oil mill, at the tanner, at the house painter; he wandered around different cities, walked across Ukraine on foot, reached Kherson, Nikolaev, and Odessa on carts. The owners did not keep him for a long time: he was distracted.
And Grandma was waiting for Leib at home - main man his childhood and youth (again similarity with Gorky!). “My grandmother was an extraordinary woman in strength of spirit, in purity and honesty,” the poet recalled. “And her influence on me gave me stamina and perseverance in the fight against the difficult years of my childhood and youth.”
Leib never went to school. I saw it “only from the outside”, I mastered the letter - Jewish, and then Russian - on my own, however, at first I tried to read the Russian alphabet from right to left, as is customary in Jewish writing.
Leo had many friends, he was loved. According to numerous recollections, he was surprisingly endowed with himself: calm, friendly, smiling, never in a hurry, never complained that someone came to him or called at the wrong time - everything was done just right and by the way for him. Perhaps he was ingenuous.
From the age of 12, Leo "spoke poetry", but since he was still not very literate, he could not really write them down. Then, of course, he began to write them down.
Poems were most often obtained for young children. Kvitko showed them in the town of Uman, which is 60 miles from Goloskov, to local writers. The poems were successful, so he entered the circle of Jewish poets. There he met his future wife. A girl from a wealthy family, a pianist, she shocked those around her with her choice: a poor village boy with a notebook of poems. He dedicated poems to her, where he compared his beloved with a wonderful garden, tightly closed. He told her: “A wonderful flower is blooming in my heart, I beg you, do not tear it.” And she quietly brought him bottles of sunflower oil and bags of sugar. In 1917, the young people got married.
At the same time, Lev Kvitko published his first collection of poems. It was called "Lideleh" ("Songs"). This and all other books by Lev Kvitko were written in Yiddish.
The beginning of the 1920s in Ukraine was a hungry, difficult, anxious time. Kvitko has a wife and a little daughter, unpublished poems, a dream to get an education. They live now in Kyiv, now in Uman, and in 1921, at the suggestion of the publishing house, they move to Berlin. Kvitko does not buy into bourgeois temptations: he, "liberated by the revolution", true to himself and his country, joins the German Communist Party, conducts propaganda among the workers in the port of Hamburg. All this leads to the fact that in 1925, fleeing from arrest, he returns to the Soviet Union.
Living in Kharkov, Kvitko sent a book of his children's poems to Korney Ivanovich Chukovsky. Here is how the “children's classic” writes about this: “I did not know a single Hebrew letter. But, realizing that on the title page, at the top, the name of the author should be put and that, therefore, this patterned letter is TO, and these two sticks - IN, but this comma - AND, I began to bravely leaf through the entire book. The captions above the pictures gave me about a dozen more letters. This inspired me so much that I immediately set off to read the headings of individual verses in warehouses, and then the verses themselves!
Elegance, melodiousness, mastery of verse and the sunny, joyful world captured in them captivated Chukovsky. And, having discovered a new poet for himself, he announced his discovery to everyone involved in children's poetry, and convinced them that all the children of the Soviet Union should know Lev Kvitko's poems.
It sounded in 1933 at a conference in Kharkov. Since then, the books of Lev Kvitko began to appear in huge editions in Russian translations. It was translated with great love by the best Russian poets - M. Svetlov, S. Marshak, S. Mikhalkov, N. Naidenova, and most of all - E. Blaginina. They have preserved the sound and imagery, lyricism and humor of the wonderful poems of the poet of a great soul.
Lev Kvitko was a man with the soul of a child: the world of his poetry is surprisingly cozy and bright. In the poems “Kisonka”, “Pipes”, “Violin”, everyone has fun and loves each other: the cat dances with mice, the horse, kitten and chicken listen to music and thank the little musician. Some verses ("Swing", "Brook") are written as games. They can be rhymes, they are easy to shout out, dancing and jumping:
Brook - murmur,
Wand twirled -
Stop, stop!
(Blaginina)
For a child, everything in life is new and significant, hence his close attention to simple, everyday things and their bright, visible perception.
“Look - look,” the poet addresses the children and teaches them to see the richness of details and shades in everything:
Dandelion silver,
How wonderfully created it is:
Round-round and fluffy
Filled with warm sunshine.
(Blaginina)
Here is another observation in the garden (the poem "Pilot"): a heavy, horned beetle, "growling" like a motor, falls to the ground. Waking up, he tries to crawl onto a blade of grass - and falls again. Again and again he climbs a thin blade of grass, and the hero watches him with sympathetic excitement: “How is this fat man holding up? In the end, the beetle gets to the green tip and ... takes off.
So that's where the key to excitement,
So that's what the pilot was craving -
High place to start
To spread your wings in flight!
A child was watching the beetle, but the final lines belong, of course, to an adult Poet.
In poetry, Kvitko does not imitate children, does not entertain them, he is a lyricist, he feels like they are, and writes about this. So he learns that little badgers live in a hole, and he is surprised: “How can they grow underground and lead a boring life underground?” He sees small flies on a leaf - and again he is surprised: what are they doing - learning to walk? “Maybe they are looking for food?” So he opened the watch - and froze, delighted with the cloves and springs, admires them without breathing and, knowing that his mother does not order to touch them, he hurries to assure us: “I didn’t touch the watch - no, no! Didn't take them apart, didn't wipe them." I saw neighboring twin babies: well, wow, “such good kids! And how similar they are to each other! ”, And directly groans with delight:“ I adore these guys!
Like any child, he lives in a fairy tale. In this tale, the strawberry dreams of being eaten - otherwise, in three days it will dry up without any use; trees plead: "Children, tear ripe fruits!"; corn and sunflowers will not wait: “If only nimble hands would pick them off soon!” Everything rejoices at the sight of a person, it is good and joyful for everyone to serve him. And a man - a child - also joyfully enters this world, where they are still beautiful: a beetle and a kitty, a boy and the sun, a puddle and a rainbow.
In this world, the wonder of life is constantly being marveled at. “Where are you from, white as snow, unexpected, like a miracle?” - the poet addresses the flower. “Oh miracle! The frog is sitting on his arm…” he greets the swamp beauty, and she answers him with dignity: “Do you want to see how I sit quietly? Well, look. I'm looking too." The hero planted a seed, and from it grew ... a carrot! (The poem is called "Miracle"). Or chicory ("... I don't know whether to believe it or not...")! Or a watermelon (“What is it: a fairy tale, a song or a wonderful dream?”)! After all, this is really a miracle, it’s just that adults have already taken a closer look at these miracles, and Kvitko, like a child, continues to exclaim: “Oh, a blade of grass!”
ordeal for solar world the poet was at war with fascism - in 1945 L. Kvitko writes: “I will never be the same now!” How can one be the same after learning about concentration camps, about the murder of children, raised to the law? .. And yet, referring to little Mirela, who lost her family, childhood, and faith in people in the war, the poet tells her: “How the world was blackened in your eyes, poor thing!” Blackened because, in spite of everything, the world is not what it seems in the long days of war. The poet - a child - an adult, he knows that the world is beautiful, he feels it every minute.
she recalled how she and Kvitko walked in the Crimea, in the Koktebel mountains: “Kvitko suddenly stops and, prayerfully folding his palms and looking at us somehow enthusiastically and amazed, almost whispers: “Could there be anything more beautiful! - And after a pause: - No, I must certainly return to these places ... "
But on January 22, 1949, Lev Kvitko, like other members of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, was arrested on charges of "underground Zionist activity and cooperation with foreign intelligence services." At the trial, after three years of extracting evidence, none of the accused pleaded guilty either to treason, or to espionage, or to bourgeois nationalism. IN last word Kvitko said: “It seems to me that we switched roles with the investigators, because they are obliged to accuse with facts, and I, a poet, create creative works, but it turned out the other way around.”
In August 1952, "spies" and "traitors" were shot. (Lev Kvitko was rehabilitated posthumously.) In the book “The Life and Work of Lev Kvitko”, published in 1976, nothing is said about his death, and only by the tragic tone of the memories of friends one can guess that something terrible happened.
In the memoirs of Agnia Barto, one can read how Kvitko showed her small Christmas trees growing near the fence, and repeated with tenderness: “Look at them ... They survived!” Later, apparently after Kvitko's death, Barto visited Ilyich's Testament, where the poet's dacha was located, “passed by the familiar fence. These Christmas trees did not survive."
Christmas trees have survived in poetry, as music lives forever in a violin from a poem by Lev Kvitko, as a boy and the sun always meet in them every day. This is the only possible victory for the poet over the enemy.
Quiz " poetic world Lev Kvitko from "A" to "Z"
According to these passages, try to determine what is at stake and remember the names of Lev Kvitko's poems.
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What is it: a fairy tale, a song Or a wonderful dream? ... (Watermelon) heavyweight Born from a seed. "Watermelon" Wherever you look - lime, Sawdust, rubble, dirt. And then suddenly... birch) It came from somewhere. At the goat, between the logs, Made a living. How silvery and smooth How light is its trunk! "Birch" Runs among flowers and herbs Garden path, And, falling to the yellow sand, The cat is sneaking quietly. "Well, - I think anxiously, - There's something wrong here!" I look - two nimble ... ( sparrow) They dine in the garden. "Bold Sparrows" ... (Gander) got excited: Hey chickens now Time to have lunch One-w-w-w-wake up the door! He craned his neck Hissing like a snake... "Gander" ... (Daughter) carries water And rattles with a bucket ... What grows there... daughter), In your garden? "Daughter" Forest dark wall. In the green thicket - haze, Just... ( herringbone) one Moved away from the forest. It stands, open to all winds, Trembling quietly in the morning... "Herringbone" He is cheerful and happy From toe to top - He succeeded Run away from the frog. She didn't have time Grab by the sides And eat under the bush Golden... ( beetle). "Funny beetle" The berry ripened in the sun - The blush has become juicy. Through the shamrock every now and then She tries to look out. And the leaves gently move Above her green shields And they scare every poor woman: "Look, the mischief-makers will pluck!" "Strawberry" The tail said to the head: Well, judge for yourself You are always ahead I am always behind! With my beauty Should I drag myself in the tail? - And heard in response: You are beautiful, no doubt Well, try to lead I'll go behind. "Turkey" Here the children ran away: You rocked - it's time for us! - Head straight for the cloud! The city moved away Got off the ground... "Swing" What does it mean, I can't understand: Who is jumping On a soft meadow? O miracle! ...( Frog) Sits on the hand As if she On a swamp leaf. "Who is this?" It immediately became quiet. The snow lies like a blanket. Evening fell to the ground... And where to ... ( bear) disappeared? Anxiety is over Sleeping in his lair. "Bear in the forest" I've got... ( knife) About the seven blades About the seven brilliant Sharp tongues. Another such There is no more in the world! He answers all questions Gives me an answer. "Knife" ... (Dandelion) silver, How wonderfully created it is: Round-round and fluffy Filled with warm sunshine. On your high leg Rising to the blue It grows on the path Both in the hollow and in the grass. "Dandelion" The dog only barks I, ... ( rooster), I sing. He performs at four And I'm on two. I stand on two, I walk all my life. And a man is running behind me in two. And the radio sings behind me. "Proud Rooster" ... (Brook) - hoverfly, Wand twirled - Stop, stop! Goat with hooves - Kick-kick! It would be nice to get drunk - Jump-jump! I dipped my muzzle - Slop-slop! "Brook" But someday a daring poet will say ABOUT... ( plum), which is not more beautiful; About gentle veins in her blue, About how she hid in the foliage; About the sweet pulp, about the smooth cheek, About the bone sleeping in the chilly chill... "Plum" He sank into the wood Like aspen crumbles noodles, Pricks a sonorous cleft, - A miracle is not ... ( axe)! About this, to tell the truth, I have been dreaming for a long time. "Axe" Sip, stretch! Hurry up wake up! The day has come a long time ago, It makes a knocking noise to your window. motley herd The sun is red And on the green Dries large "Morning" The moon rose high above the houses. Leml liked her: I would buy such a plate for my mother, Put it on the table by the window! Oh, the ball - ... ( flashlight), ... (Flashlight) - kubar, This is a good moon! "Flashlight Ball" I really wanted to be here Where cool days bloom Among the white birches Sprouts wait for the little ones - ... (chicory) seething, thick, real, With baked goat milk (Pancakes, kalabushki!), What in the morning and evening Cooked grandchildren grandmother! "Chicory" ... (watch) new I've got. Open the lid - Under the cover fuss: teeth and circles Like dots, nails, And stones like dots. And it all shines Shines, trembles, And only black One spring - On a negro She looks like. Live, black Swing, tremble fairy tale white circles Tell! "Watch" Why, aspen, are you making noise, Do you nod to everyone like a river reed? You bend, change your appearance, posture, Are you turning the leaves inside out? I'm making noise To hear me To be seen To be praised Among other trees distinguished! "Noise and Silence" It happened on a sunny day shining day: Look... ( power plant) The boy took us. We wanted to see Rather see How can electricity Give river water. "Power station" Michurinskaya ... ( apple tree) No need to wrap. She is undressed Frost is happy. Athletes are not afraid Blizzard howl. Like these winter ... ( apples) Fresh fragrance! "Winter Apples" |
Crossword "Legends of flowers"
In the highlighted cells: the poet, whose verses are similar to himself, are just as bright, and his nickname is “the lion-flower”.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION
Lev Moiseevich Kvitko was born in the village of Goloskovo, Podolsk province. The family was in poverty, hunger, poverty. All children in early age dispersed to work. Including from the age of 10, Lev began to work. He taught himself to read and write. Poetry began to compose even before he learned to write. Later he moved to Kyiv, where he began to publish. In 1921, on a ticket from the Kyiv publishing house, he went with a group of other Yiddish writers to Germany to study. In Berlin, Kvitko barely survived, but two of his collections of poems were published there. In search of work, he moved to Hamburg, where he began working as a worker in the port.
Returning to Ukraine, he continued to write poetry. On Ukrainian language he was translated by Pavlo Tychina, Maxim Rylsky, Vladimir Sosiura. In Russian, Kvitko's poems are known in translations by Akhmatova, Marshak, Chukovsky, Helemsky, Svetlov, Slutsky, Mikhalkov, Naydenova, Blaginina, Ushakov. These translations themselves became a phenomenon in Russian poetry. With the outbreak of the war, Kvitko was not taken into the active army due to age. He was called to Kuibyshev to work in the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAC). It was a tragic accident, because Kvitko was far from politics. The JAC, which had collected colossal funds from wealthy American Jews for arming the Red Army, turned out to be unnecessary to Stalin after the war and was declared a reactionary Zionist body.
However, in 1946 Kvitko left the JAC and devoted himself entirely to poetic creativity. But his work in the JAC was remembered during his arrest. He was charged that in 1946 he had established a personal connection with the American resident Goldberg, whom he informed about the state of affairs in the Union of Soviet Writers. He was also accused of leaving in his youth to study in Germany in order to leave the USSR forever, and in the port in Hamburg he sent weapons for Chai Kang Shi under the guise of dishes. Arrested January 22, 1949. He spent 2.5 years in solitary confinement. At the trial, Kvitko was forced to admit his mistake in writing poetry in the Hebrew language Yiddish, and this was a brake on the path of Jewish assimilation. Say, he used the Yiddish language, which has outlived its time and which separates the Jews from the friendly family of the peoples of the USSR. And in general, Yiddish is a manifestation of bourgeois nationalism. After going through interrogations and torture, he was shot on August 12, 1952.
Soon Stalin died, and after his death the first group Soviet writers went on a trip to the USA. Among them was Boris Polevoy - the author of "The Tale of a Real Man", the future editor of the magazine "Youth". In America, the communist writer Howard Fast asked him: what happened to Lev Kvitko, with whom I became friends in Moscow and then corresponded? Why did he stop responding to emails? Evil rumors are spreading here. “Don't believe the rumors, Howard,” Polevoy said. - Lev Kvitko is alive and well. I live in the same area with him in the writer's house and saw him last week.”
Place of residence: Moscow, st. Maroseyka, 13, apt. 9.
