The soul of man in the poetic world of Byron
Lord George Gordon Byron
The soul of a person ... Can it be fully studied, understood, explained? It is not always possible to express your thoughts, feelings, aspirations. This is best done in poetry. No wonder the Ukrainian poetess Lina Kostenko called poetry "an immortal touch to the soul."
The soul became the source that gave a person the opportunity to create a world of dreams and fantasies, to escape from the everyday life and imperfections of real life. Romantic poets: Mikhail Lermontov, Heinrich Heine, Paul Verlaine and others tried to express these subtle feelings in their works. And if there is a figure in world poetry that personifies everything romantic in life and work, then this is George Byron. Not only in the first half of the 19th century, when the poet lived, but also later, many young people consciously or unconsciously imitated this ideal - Lord Byron or his heroes. He strives for many things, but he cannot achieve anything that, in his opinion, would be worthy of effort.
The figure of Byron remains bright, complex and contradictory in the minds of readers. It combines boundless love of freedom, readiness to give one's life for the liberation of enslaved peoples and proud individualism, disenchantment with life. Not a single poet has managed to change the traditional view of the world and man so much as George Byron. After his death, Alexander Pushkin wrote: "The world has become empty."
George Gordon was born on January 22, 1788 in London. My father, who served in the English army, was a headstrong man. Having squandered the estate, he died far from his family when I was not even 4 years old. I was raised by my mother. And she was an unbalanced and exalted woman. My mother often humiliated me. I had one naturally shorter leg. I stubbornly proved to myself and others that I meant something. He became a remarkable athlete-rider, swimmer and archer, boxer and cricketer. I sought salvation from all sorrows in communion with nature.
The brightest period in my bleak childhood was at the college, which I entered in 1801.
* I would like to live again in the mountains
* As a carefree child, as once,
* Wander between the rocks, in the harsh seas * Rush between
* My soul, like a crucified bird,
* That aspires to rocks and heights,
* Suffering in pompous England,
* In the land of craftiness and dumbness.
* Let me run away, talent,
* To the bosom of cliffs and hills,
* Forget all titles and shackles,
* View of nobles and slaves.
* Lead me to the gloomy rocks,
* Where the formidable ocean groans, -
* Bring back the happy days in childhood,
* Let your heart rest from wounds.
Byron's poetry is the cry of the soul, in which different forces are fighting. She always had to make a choice between good and evil, life and death, light and darkness. What will win in it? What will be the result of this eternal struggle, which is sharpening in the inner world of man? Fate was cruel to the poet. The disease weakened his strength. The fever with which he fell ill was complicated by inflammation of the brain. Byron died April 19, 1824. In the morning, 37 artillery volleys died down (the same number of years lived). The embalmed body of Byron was sent to England, and the heart, at the request of the Greek patriots, was buried in Greece as a sign of great love and respect for the poet!
Romantics deified everything beautiful, worshiped Art, the types of which, as they believed, harmoniously complement each other. So at the end of our conversation, I suggest you listen to the wonderful music of the famous romantic composer Frederic Chopin and, to the sounds of this music, let each of you think about something beautiful, romantic, which is Eternal, keeps a person in the world and makes him a real Human.