Poem railway by Nikolai Nekrasov. Nikolay Nekrasov - Railway: Verse

Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov was an outstanding writer. He became famous for his numerous works, which are popular to this day. Many of his works are taken as a basis in theatrical and cinematic activities.

The poet was the founder of a new, democratic movement that developed a civic position. Along with many famous writers, including Leo Tolstoy, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Ivan Turgenev, he was published in the Sovremennik magazine, of which he was the editor.

In this article we will look at one of the author’s works called “The Railway,” which was written in 1864, at a time when civic position was taking on more and more pronounced forms of revolutionary and democratic orientation.

All reality is reflected in this poem. This is the growth of the Russian Empire, in the desire to catch up with European countries, breaking out of agrarian slavery. This is also the deplorable state in which most of the population was, ready to sell their labor for pennies. This is the attitude of different segments of the population towards construction.

The construction of the railway took place during the period of serfdom, when peasants, regardless of their desire, were herded to construction. But even after the abolition of serfdom, unfortunate people did not have a worthy place in society. As a result of the past reforms, many farms became unprofitable and simply closed. Now it was not patriotism, but hunger that drove people to construction sites. To feed themselves, many were forced to sell their labor for pennies.

Without embellishment, Nekrasov was able to describe all reality in his poem.

This work is recognized as one of the most dramatic of those times. It begins with a description of everyday days, and everything sounds colorful, this can be understood from such expressions: “the ice is fragile,” “the river is cold.” At the beginning of the lines, you might think that this is a lyrical work, because the author reveals everything gradually, as if enhancing the effect and preparing the reader.

So, according to the story, a little son and his father, a general, set off on a journey by rail. Here the little son begins to ask his father who built such a huge railway with trains. Without thinking for a long time, the general names the name of the builder, Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel. Then the son falls asleep from motion sickness on the road and has a dream that was more of a horror. In this dream, the child saw the whole truth about the construction of this road.

The work was very hard, which they agreed to out of despair. The name of this hopelessness was hunger. We had to live in dugouts; there was practically no such thing as recreation. They had to work for at least twelve hours in damp and frozen conditions, while there were strict limits, and observers recorded every mistake of the builders.

Builders were fined so often that sometimes they did not have enough wages. Some were given a barrel of wine as a salary. If a person had something against it, argued with the main ones, then he was simply flogged to death. Many died from various diseases or exhaustion, such people were buried on the same road. From this we can conclude that the road was built on human bones.

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

Of course, the construction site was officially given special significance as the construction project of the century. The road, which took twelve years to build, reduced the time spent on the road during a trip between the cities of Moscow and St. Petersburg by seven times. In addition, this construction had political overtones. All-Russian Emperor Nicholas I wanted to declare his state in Europe as progressive and developed. Money was allocated to create an appropriate level of infrastructure, and good specialists were attracted, including foreign ones. But few people thought about their own people, who were cheap labor.

The whole story of the construction of the railway was true and told about how the people actually lived and what they were forced to endure. Then the emperor highly appreciated the work of the construction organizers. The Commander-in-Chief of the Railways, Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, was awarded an award for services to the Fatherland. Indeed, the speed of construction was high, and the mortality of ordinary workers was considered as a production cost.

Analysis of the poem


The railway was called Nikolaevskaya and was built between 1842 and 1855.

Only 12 years later did Nekrasov come up with this poem. The work itself seems to answer the question: will the descendants of the unfortunate workers who gave their lives to strengthen the state, as a progressive state, and for the convenience of the upper class of the population, be remembered?

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.
The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..

The poem itself consists of four parts. All of them are united by one plot and the image of the lyrical hero. The narrator and neighbors in the carriage, where there is a boy and his father, a general. The dialogue is about the railway, how it was built, this is the epigraph.
The first part of the story describes nature, which very colorfully depicts the surrounding environment, which can be seen from the train window. She is very perfect and doesn’t seem to have the ugliness that is present in people’s lives. The second part is shown in the form of a monologue by the narrator himself, where the life of society is shown. It shows the life of the builders of this highway, all their suffering and misfortunes.

The main meaning is found in the last three stanzas. Where it is described that the Russian people must be respected, that with their hard work and sacrifices they are moving towards a bright future. The writer also very accurately describes the mentality of the people, who have endured much suffering and humiliation for centuries. With just one statement, Nekrasov described the entire life of the people of those times:

“It’s just a pity - I won’t have to live in this beautiful time - neither for me nor for you.”


In the third part, the author presents a dispute between the author and the general, where the reader can take either side. It’s hard to argue with the fact that the people are illiterate, downtrodden, and dirty. The general presents evidence, calling people pathetic destroyers and drunkards, and sees only this as their destiny. But the author comes to the defense of the peasants, declaring that it is not the people themselves who are to blame for this.

In the fourth part the reasoning continues. Now the author has gone even deeper. The reader becomes even more immersed in the problems of society. It becomes clear that the different positions that already divide society are an insurmountable gulf. And small people, from the point of view of the upper class, are simply consumables. Material that, if necessary, can be sacrificed endlessly.

But the narrator believes that a “bright future” will come, because the Russian people deserve a better life. Nekrasov could not have finished the poem any other way. He put all his pain into every line. That is why his words echo in the hearts of his contemporaries.

I am already at that age at which it is more appropriate to remember how it was than to dream of how it will be. Therefore, the chances of seeing what will happen in 2020 in my country are about 50 to 50. And it would be very interesting to see, since our authorities promise “jelly rivers” and “milk banks” by this year.

These “jelly rivers” are nothing more than the semi-mythical “Putin’s plan”, which has recently acquired more concrete outlines in the form of a forecast for the country’s development until 2020.

With the exception of Yeltsin’s spontaneous revelry, for almost 70 years we lived exclusively according to the plan - there were so-called “five-year plans”. The five-year plans were not only fulfilled and exceeded, but also completed ahead of schedule. The older generation remembers well the slogan of those years - “Five-Year Plan in Four Years.” We were even given the exact date for the onset of the “bright future” - 1980. But instead of communism they got the Olympics. It’s also not very bad, since life during the days of the Olympic Games was very similar to communism - there is no crime, but there is sausage. Even Finnish. It’s a pity that “communism” lasted only two weeks.

I don’t presume to say categorically, but something tells me that Putin’s plan is precisely from the category of “Olympic communism.”

But first, about what we are promised by 2020.

First, the average lifespan will reach 75 years. Secondly, the share of the middle class, with a lifestyle and consumption standards characteristic of the middle class in developed countries, can reach more than 50% of the total population. Thirdly, the share of people with higher education among the economically active population will be about 50%. Fourth, ensure a decent standard of living for pensioners. Fifthly, ... I think that even without the “fifth” and without the “sixth” it is clear what super-grandiose tasks the country faces.

As they say, now former President Putin is very optimistic about the implementation of this plan. And the forecast itself was probably compiled by qualified economists who well understand what’s what. And then I ask myself the question why I, a simple Russian man in the street, practically not knowing all the numbers and layouts, do not doubt one iota that this plan is doomed to failure. And after some thought, coupled with doubts, I answer: “The president and I live in different countries.” Otherwise, he would have understood that reaching the average age of 75 is impossible without a widespread increase in medical care to the level of Kremlin clinics. It is impossible to live to a ripe old age without improving the quality of life. Maybe this quality is improving according to some average figures, but every day I breathe polluted air, and instead of forest areas where this air could be, at best there are cottages behind a high fence, at worst - multi-storey residential monsters.

When I read that pensioners will be provided with a decent life by 2020, I begin to giggle nervously. Today they cannot really provide an “undignified” life for older people, and the funds of the Pension Fund are actively used by its employees. They also want to live with dignity.

The poet Nekrasov wrote about the remaining points of the plan 150 years ago: Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland... The Russian people have endured enough, They have endured this railway - They will endure everything that God sends! He will endure everything - and pave a wide, clear path for himself. It’s just a pity - neither I nor you will have to live in this beautiful time.

Vania (in coachman's Armenian jacket).
Dad! who built this road?
Dad (in a coat with a red lining).
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear!

Conversation in the carriage

I

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...

II

“Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
You will allow me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous, -
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
They found a coffin for themselves here.

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!

Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?.. “On this moonlit night
We love to see your work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.

The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..”

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It’s a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove.
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;

I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!

I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to adopt...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.

Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
He also took out this railway -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won’t have to, neither me nor you.”

III

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and He he told me:
“Here they are, the builders of our road!”
The general laughed!

I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
A miracle of art - he took everything away! -
“I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:

Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side... -

IV

“I'm glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything into the book -
Did you take to the bathhouse, did you lie sick:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing... well done!.. well done!..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
AND - I give away the arrears!..

Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!

The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
Shouting “Hurray!” he rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..”

Vanya (in a coachman's jacket). Dad! who built this road?
Dad (in a coat with a red lining). Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;
Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -
Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...
II

“Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
You will allow me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.
This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous, -
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.
He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.
It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
They found a coffin for themselves here.
The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And on the sides there are all Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?
Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!
Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?.. “On this moonlit night
We love to see your work!
We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.
The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!
Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..”
Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!
It’s a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove.
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall, sick Belarusian:
Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;
I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!
I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!
This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to adopt...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.
Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
He also took out this railway -
He will endure whatever God sends!
Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won’t have to, neither me nor you.”
III

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”
Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
“Here they are, the builders of our road!”
The general laughed!
- I was recently in the groans of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?
Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?
Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
A miracle of art - he took everything away! -
“I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:
- Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;
You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side... -
IV

“I'm glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people
A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay,
Walking days have become a penny!
The foremen entered everything into the book -
Did you take to the bathhouse, did you lie sick:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...
In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.
The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing... well done!.. well done!..
With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
I expose a barrel of wine to the workers
And - I give you the arrears!..”
Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!
The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
Shouting “Hurray!” he rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..”

« Railway" Nikolay Nekrasov

Vanya (in the coachman’s Armenian jacket).
Dad! who built this road?
Papa (in a coat with a red lining),
Count Pyotr Andreevich Kleinmichel, my dear!
Conversation in the carriage

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;

Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -

Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...

Good dad! Why the charm?
Should I keep Vanya the smart one?
You will allow me in the moonlight
Show him the truth.

This work, Vanya, was terribly enormous
Not enough for one!
There is a king in the world: this king is merciless,
Hunger is its name.

He leads armies; at sea by ships
Rules; rounds up people in the artel,
Walks behind the plow, stands behind
Stonemasons, weavers.

It was he who drove the masses of people here.
Many are in a terrible struggle,
Having brought these barren wilds back to life,
They found a coffin for themselves here.


Columns, rails, bridges.
And everything on the sides Russian bones...

Chu! menacing exclamations were heard!
Stomping and gnashing of teeth;
A shadow ran across the frosty glass...
What's there? Crowd of the dead!

Then they overtake the cast-iron road,
They run in different directions.
Do you hear singing?.. “On this moonlit night
We love to see your work!

We struggled under the heat, under the cold,
With an ever-bent back,
They lived in dugouts, fought hunger,
They were cold and wet and suffered from scurvy.

The literate foremen robbed us,
The authorities flogged me, the need was pressing...
We, God's warriors, have endured everything,
Peaceful children of labor!

Brothers! You are reaping our benefits!
We are destined to rot in the earth...
Do you still remember us poor people kindly?
Or have you forgotten a long time ago?..”

Do not be horrified by their wild singing!
From Volkhov, from Mother Volga, from Oka,
From different ends of the great state -
These are all your brothers - men!

It's a shame to be timid, to cover yourself with a glove,
You're not little!.. With Russian hair,
You see, he’s standing there, exhausted by fever,
Tall sick Belarusian:

Bloodless lips, drooping eyelids,
Ulcers on skinny arms
Always standing in knee-deep water
The legs are swollen; tangles in hair;

I'm digging into my chest, which I diligently put on the spade
Day after day I worked hard all my life...
Take a closer look at him, Vanya:
Man earned his bread with difficulty!

I didn’t straighten my hunchbacked back
He is still: stupidly silent
And mechanically with a rusty shovel
It's hammering the frozen ground!

This noble habit of work
It would be a good idea for us to share with you...
Bless the work of the people
And learn to respect a man.

Don’t be shy for your dear fatherland...
The Russian people have endured enough
He also took out this railway -
He will endure whatever God sends!

Will bear everything - and a wide, clear
He will pave the way for himself with his chest.
It’s just a pity to live in this wonderful time
You won't have to - neither me nor you.

At this moment the whistle is deafening
He squealed - the crowd of dead people disappeared!
“I saw, dad, I had an amazing dream,”
Vanya said, “five thousand men,”

Representatives of Russian tribes and breeds
Suddenly they appeared - and he said to me:
“Here they are - the builders of our road!..”
The general laughed!

“I was recently within the walls of the Vatican,
I wandered around the Colosseum for two nights,
I saw St. Stephen in Vienna,
Well... did the people create all this?

Excuse me for this impudent laugh,
Your logic is a little wild.
Or for you Apollo Belvedere
Worse than a stove pot?

Here are your people - these thermal baths and baths,
It’s a miracle of art - he took everything away!”
“I’m not speaking for you, but for Vanya...”
But the general did not allow him to object:

«


However, it’s time to take care of Vanyusha;

You know, the spectacle of death, sadness
It is a sin to disturb a child's heart.
Would you show the child now?
The bright side..."

Glad to show you!
Listen, my dear: fatal works
It’s over - the German is already laying the rails.
The dead are buried in the ground; sick
Hidden in dugouts; working people

A tight crowd gathered around the office...
They scratched their heads:
Every contractor must stay
,
Walking days have become a penny!

The foremen entered everything into the book -
Did you take him to the bathhouse, did you lie sick?:
“Maybe there is a surplus here now,
Here you go!..” They waved their hand...

In a blue caftan - a venerable meadowsweet,
Thick, squat, red as copper,
A contractor is traveling along the line on holiday,
He goes to see his work.

The idle people part decorously...
The merchant wipes the sweat from his face
And he says, putting his hands on his hips:
“Okay... nothing... well done!.. well done!..

With God, now go home - congratulations!
(Hats off - if I say!)
Barrel for workers guilt I'm exhibiting
And - I give you the arrears!..”

Someone shouted “hurray”. Picked up
Louder, friendlier, longer... Lo and behold:
The foremen rolled the barrel singing...
Even the lazy man could not resist!

The people unharnessed the horses - and the purchase price
With a shout of “Hurray!” rushed along the road...
It seems difficult to see a more gratifying picture
Shall I draw, general?..

« Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..

As we see, for Nekrasov the Slavs are not Russians. For Nekrasov, the Slavs are the Anglo-Saxons and Germans, the same “Germans” with whom the Slavs have been talking about the war for so long.

We don’t see Jews here, there are no Jews yet. The Slavs have not yet changed their color from Anglo-Saxons and Germans to Jews. The Slavs will become Jews later, when the books on the History of captured Russia are rewritten, all Russians are removed from all books on the History of Russia, starting with the First Prince Tsar of Russia Michael the Archangel, the First Emperor, and instead of Russians, they enter themselves: Slavs, Jewish soldiers of the old Red (Prussian) ) guards of Elston, Hohenzollern, Holstein, Bronstein and Blank, lads (Germans and Jews).

Nekrasov characterizes our people (Jewish Red Guards, Slavs): barbarians, a wild bunch of drunkards, they cannot create anything, because they do not have a noble habit of work.

That is, to work is the privilege of the Noble Class, the Highest Light, the Aristocracy.

And the Slav (Anglo-Saxon and German) only destroy the master. They are there all the exhibitions and museums throughout Europe in 1853-1871. they were trashed when these Anglo-Saxons and Germans (Slavs) were our soldiers of the Franco-Prussian war: Jewish soldiers of the old red (Prussian) guard of Elston-Sumarokov, whom the Slavs (Anglo-Saxons and Germans) renamed Frederick of Prussia Wilhelm of Hohenzollern (Riemann), when they retrospectively composed the history of the great French revolution of the Slavs (Germans and Anglo-Saxon Jews).

The path is straight: the embankments are narrow,
Columns, rails, bridges.
And everything on the sides Russian bones...
How many of them! Vanechka, do you know?

A normal picture of Russia occupied by the Slavs 1858-1917. That German occupation of Russia in 1858-1917. and there were Slavs: Jewish soldiers of the old Red (Prussian) Guard from Elston to Stalin.

This is the Jewish manner of the Slavs: to rename everything. In 1853-1921. the slavs were the red (german) army, in 1922 the slavs renamed their red (german) army the red (soviet) army. And how they were: “ Your Slav, Anglo-Saxon and German
Do not create - destroy the master,
Barbarians! wild bunch of drunkards!..
And so they remained.

After all, Russians also worked in the USSR, and the Slavs were Germans and Jews, a race of master slave owners and serf owners. Everything is like under the Romanovs (Holstein-Gottorpovs). What did they fight for in '17?

Oh, you don’t know who the Russians are? Well, you see, children, how much did the Soviet government give you? Only 150 years of Soviet occupation of Russia by the Slavs, and no one even knows who were the Russians in Russia captured by the Soviets? And they were killed by the Soviets in 1853-1953. Exterminated as a class enemy.

The Soviets even killed those who saw the Russians. And instead of the Russians killed by the Slavs, the Soviets began to pretend to be Slavs (Anglo-Saxons, Germans, Jews).

Historical reference. In 1352-1921. all over the planet there was a centralized State, which the Slavs slyly call “Russia”, and beat themselves on the chest with their fists that Russia is them, the Slavs.

In 1853-1921. in a fierce War with all of Russia, the Slavs captured Russia and established their Soviet power throughout the captured Russia.

All that the Slavs are shaking at the Slavs with their achievements of Soviet power is all that the Slavs in the USSR called: “the conquests of the revolution.” Translated from the Hebrew language of the Slavs, read: “Loot by the Slavs in Russia, from the Russians, in 1853-1921.”

The USSR was the Slavs' parody of that centralized state of the Army (Russia), which was captured by the Slavs in 1853-1921. and was plundered by them already before the First World War so that the poor Bolsheviks, by and large, after the Slavs, had nothing left to plunder. The tears of an orphan remained.

The centralized state of Russia, which was captured by the Slavs in 1853-1921. was built by the renamed Slavs Czartoryski-Konde: Corporation of General Staff Officers, and which the Slavs again renamed “Tsars”.

First they renamed Carus “Tsars”, and then they told how they were in 1853-1953. They fought against tsarism with the entire Red (Jewish) army of Slavs - from Elston to Stalin.



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