The theme of love in the work of Veronika Tushnova. Who said love is easy? Veronika Tushnova Veronika Tushnova personal life family

14.04.2021

Tushnova Veronika Tushnova Career: Poet
Birth: Russia, 27.3.1915
Veronika Tushnova, famous Soviet poetess. The first collection of poems was published in 1945, and it was called "The First Book". Her lyrical poems gained particular popularity, the collections "Memory of the Heart" - 1958, "Second Wind" - 1960, "Lyric" - 1963, "100 Hours of Happiness" - 1965 were published - this is the author's last lifetime edition. In subsequent years, poems by Veronika Tushnova were repeatedly reprinted. She died of cancer in 1965.

It makes me so sad to paint in "watercolor" again. It's so sad for me to guess everything from the lines of poetry .. Have you ever read a biography guessed from the verses, from the lines of rhymes? You will most likely say: No. I have never seen biographies like this before. And now I have to strike it myself ..

Guess, draw, foresee, anticipate What does it turn out to be? Unfinished portrait. Unrevealed existence. Unfolded fate: Or maybe - the prevailing one, in spite of everything? After all, the Fates of Poets are composed by God and the radiance of star charts in the night Sky. All this is not subject to simple human ideas about fortune...

Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova was born on March 27, 1915 (date of the new style) in Kazan in the family of Mikhail Tushnov, a professor of medicine at Kazan University, and his wife, Alexandra, nee Postnikova, a graduate of the Higher Women's Bestuzhev Courses in Moscow. Professor Tushnov was a few years older than his chosen one, and in the family everything obeyed his desires and will, up to serving lunch or dinner on the table.

Veronica, a dark-eyed, thoughtful girl who wrote verses from childhood, but hid them from her father, according to his unquestioned "desire", immediately after finishing school, she entered the Leningrad Medical Institute (the professor's family had settled there by that time).

Veronika Mikhailovna studied at the faculty of therapy for four years, but she could no longer torture her soul: She was seriously carried away by painting, and poetic inspiration did not leave.

In the early summer of 1941, Tushnova entered the Moscow Literary Institute named after M. Gorky: Her desire to professionally and seriously engage in poetry and philology seems to be beginning to come true.

But I didn't have to study. The hustling has begun. Veronika Mikhailovna's father had died by that time. There was a sick mother and a little daughter Natasha.

By the way, the family, personal existence of Veronika Tushnova is another mystery for connoisseurs of her work, for literary critics. Everything is hidden behind the seven seals of the secrets of the family archive, much has not been preserved, lost, much is hushed up ....

(However, for this, tactful or indifferent - another interrogative motive - silence, the relatives of Veronika Mikhailovna, of course, have every right!)

Using her medical knowledge, Tushnova worked almost all the years of the war as a doctor in hospitals - because they were sorely lacking! - nursed the wounded: The work is hard, often ungrateful, leaving, it would seem, no time for "fussing" with capricious rows of poetic lines: But Tushnova managed during night shifts, by the light of shaded lamps, listening to sleepy breathing and the groans of time to scribble something in a notebook. That's what they called her affectionately: "a doctor with a notebook."

In 1945, her poetic experiments came out of print, which she called "The First Book". It was a relatively late debut - Veronika Mikhailovna was already 29 years old - and he passed somehow inconspicuously, barely audibly ....

Probably, in the year of the Victory and general rejoicing, it was necessary to compose something fanfare, ceremonial .. Tushnova did not know how to act under any circumstances: To her this minute and invariably - I will especially note! -had its own note of pure, piercing sadness, elegiacity, or something, what the dashing "prorabotchiki" from the Union of Writers immediately called "the notorious intimacy", "rehashing far-fetched experiences in the spirit of Akhmatova's" salon "poems" Familiar words, not the truth whether? And more than that, a familiar touch to poetry: An attitude of denial, contempt, almost no love. What is there without a little!

It is not surprising that the second book by Veronika Mikhailovna "Ways - Roads" will be published only ten years later, in 1954.

She easily hesitated to let it out. This book is based on poems, often written on the road and inspired by road meetings and impressions, meeting new people and new places. "Azerbaijani Spring" - this is the name of the only one of Tushnova's poetic cycles.

Veronika Tushnova, in general, all this "decade of silence" worked a lot and persistently: as a reviewer in a publishing house " Fiction", an essayist in a newspaper, translated Rabindranath Tagore from interlinear, and did it superbly, because she was a lyricist, "in her very line essence," as she herself said.

These ten years were extremely difficult for Veronika Mikhailovna. She was looking for her personal road in poetry. I searched not easily, painfully, often losing time and losing more than enough for my heart and talent.

In 1952, Tushnova wrote the poem "The Road to Klukhor". (She was also included in the 1954 book.)

This poem was very badly received by critics and reviewers, but today's reader would clearly see in it some deliberateness of themes, a tense tone, a rhetorical exaltation alien to the poetess, a craving for scale, false pathos: In general, all the features of the "Soviet poetry."

But she was so afraid of the former rude reproaches, ridicule, and it’s not difficult to “abyss of silence - non-printing”, that she preferred to be an author, one that, in the words of one of the critics: “I didn’t acquire my creative face, I didn’t find my voice” (A. Tarasenkov Review of the collection by V. Tushnova "Ways - roads" 1954.)

It's sad to strike all this .. and unsweetened.

In fact, only on the last twenty pages of the collection, in the section "Poems about Happiness", the poetess seemed to have thrown off a heavy burden, like a bolt from the blue she became herself, sounded in full force! Suddenly, the true physiognomy of the writer arose - loving, languishing, suffering. At times it was almost portrait-accurate, the only one in its active concreteness: "eyelashes stuck together by a blizzard, a wet wing of hair, a transparent glow of the skin, a changeable oval face" - but at the same time it was a physiognomy similar to thousands of others. female faces, it was a person exactly the same as they are, suffering and loving, tormented and somewhere tormenting another, let him and passionately loved, person!

Each of the readers could feel her "blizzard" in Tushnova's lines, her happy and bitter moments, and only a close, but such a general, understandable to all, disturbing feeling of the inexorable running of time and with a stubborn, sparsely strange, deceptive and naive faith in happiness: Remember this, famous:

"...I will stop waiting for you,

And you will come at all like snow on your head.

And you will come when it's black

When a blizzard hits the glass...

When you remember how long ago

We did not warm a friend of a friend!

V. Tushnova "Do not renounce loving ..."

After these lines, learned and copied by hundreds of readers in a notebook, fame came to Veronika Mikhailovna. Her poetic sound gained strength and height.

The book Memory of the Heart, published in 1958, was already purely lyrical.

The main subject of the poetess came to the fundamental project, pushing everything else:

There is love in the world!

The only one - in fortune and in sorrow,

In sickness and health - one,

Same at the end as at the beginning

Which, moreover, is not afraid of old age.

A building not built on sand,

Not idle fiction, she

Lifelong first date

Calm and thunderstorms alternating!

A hundred thousand times rising wave!

V. Tushnova. "Your Enemy"

A beautiful, black-haired lady with sad eyes (because of her characteristic and unusual beauty for the Central Russian eye, she was called laughingly "oriental beauty"), with a gentle character, who loved to give gifts, not only to loved ones (Cousin Irina, who lives in Kuibyshev, did not have time to acquire from Moscow parcels, sometimes with sandals, sometimes with gloves, sometimes with books!) but it’s also easy for friends; rushing at the first call for support at any time of the day or night, infecting everyone with laughter, fun and a true love of life; this beauty - the poetess, with whose poems about Love under the pillow a whole generation of girls fell asleep - she herself experienced a tragedy - the fortune of Feeling, illuminating her last years on Earth with its Light and giving a healthy flow of energy to her Creativity: This Love was divided, but secret, because, as Tushnova herself wrote:

"Stands between us

Not a big sea -

bitter misfortune,

Someone else's heart."

In Tushnov's "Gloomy Land:"

The man whom Veronika Mikhailovna loved, the poet Alexander Yashin, was married, could not leave the family, and who knows, Veronika Mikhailovna, her uncle who understands everything, and perceives sharply and subtly, could have been able - for poets from God have "nerves at their fingertips ", - to venture on the previously abrupt reversal of the Fates, more tragic than contented? Probably not. She called the close sensation "a storm that I can't cope with" and believed its slightest shades and overflows to her poems, like diary lines. Those who read (published after the death of the poetess, in 1969!) Poems inspired by this deep and amazingly tender feeling, could not get rid of the feeling that in their palm lies "a pulsating and bloodied heart, tender, trembling in his hand and tries to warm his palms with his warmth ": It is forbidden to invent a better comparison. Maybe that's why Tushnova's poetry is still alive, books are being republished, placed on Internet sites and Tushnova's lines, light as wings of a butterfly, it is appropriate to say, created "in extreme suffering and acute happiness", (I. Snegova) know more than details of her complex, almost tragic, biography: However, such are the Fates in practice of all true Poets, it is a sin to complain about this!

P.S. Veronika Mikhailovna was dying in great agony. Not only from a terrible illness, but also from longing for a loved one, who finally decided to release a gravely sinful fortune from his hands: The poetess died on July 7, 1965.

She was just over 50 years old. There were manuscripts left on the table: unfinished pages of the poem and the new cycle of poems.

Three years later, after his Beloved, he died, yearning, and rushing about in this cold longing until last days, Alexander Yashin. The diagnosis sounded even more ominous - "cancer"

How can one not recall the classic: "There are strange rapprochements!"

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Citizenship:

the USSR

Occupation: Years of creativity: Direction: Genre: Art language:

Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova(March 14 (27), Kazan - July 7, Moscow) - Russian Soviet poetess who wrote in the genre love lyrics. Translator. Member of the Union of Writers of the USSR (1946). The author of the texts of popular songs “Do not renounce loving”, “You know, there will still be! ..”, “One Hundred Hours of Happiness” and others.

Mystery of the year of birth

In a number of biographical articles and autobiographies, Tushnova's birth year is 1915. The dates 1915-1965 are engraved on the monument on the grave of Veronika Mikhailovna at the Vagankovsky cemetery, as the poetess herself wished shortly before her death. However, in the materials of the Kazan Literary Museum. M. Gorky and Tushnova’s collection “You can give everything for this,” published in 2012 in the Golden Series of Poetry, compiled by the daughter of the poetess Natalya Rozinskaya, it is stated that Veronika Mikhailovna was born on March 27, 1911. The Poetry Lovers' Club of Veronika Tushnova conducted a study and found an extract from the register of births about her baptism in 1911. This date was also confirmed by the daughter of the poetess N. Rozinskaya. The year of birth in 1911 is also confirmed by the fact that Tushnova graduated from school in 1928, in the same year she entered Faculty of Medicine Kazan University, which at the age of 13 was in no way impossible.

In 2011, anniversary literary events dedicated to the 100th anniversary of Veronika Tushnova were held in many cities of Russia.

Biography and review of creativity

Born in the family of a scientist, professor of medicine at Kazan University Mikhail Pavlovich Tushnov. Mother - Alexandra Georgievna Postnikova, a graduate of the Higher Women's Bestuzhev Courses in Moscow. In Kazan, the family lived in a house on Bolshaya Kazanskaya Street (now Bolshaya Krasnaya), then on Mislavsky Street. In summer - on the Volga, in Shelange. The memory of her native Volga expanses nourished Veronika's work all her life. Hobbies of her childhood and youth are animals and flowers.

In 1928 she graduated in Kazan from one of best schools city - No. 14 im. A. N. Radishcheva with in-depth study foreign languages She spoke good English and French. The first to notice the literary talent of Tushnova her school teacher Literature Boris Nikolaevich Skvortsov, who often read her works aloud as exemplary. After school, at the insistence of her father, who saw her as a future doctor, she entered the medical faculty of Kazan University. Biographers especially note the imperious and despotic character of Veronica's father, everything in the family obeyed his desires and will, up to the daily routine, serving lunch or dinner.

In 1931, in connection with the transfer of his father to the All-Union Institute of Experimental Medicine (VIEM), the family moved from Kazan to Leningrad, where Tushnova continued to study at the medical institute. Soon the family moves to Moscow, where the father, as a famous scientist, gets an apartment on Novinsky Boulevard. Entered graduate school at the Department of Histology VIEM. In the capital she took up painting, at the same time a serious passion for poetry began. In 1938 she married psychiatrist Yuri Rozinsky. In the same year, the first poems were published.

Tushnova's next collection came out only 9 years later - "Ways-Roads" (1954). With the greatest fullness aggravated lyrical feeling poetess revealed in last years life in the collections "Memory of the Heart" (1958), "One Hundred Hours of Happiness" (1965) and others, in which she reflects on high love, on deep human relationships.

Conducted a creative seminar at the Literary Institute. A. M. Gorky. She worked as a reviewer at the Khudozhestvennaya Literatura publishing house, an essayist in a newspaper, and translated from Bengali (from interlinear) R. Tagore. Fruitful cooperation and friendship connected Tushnova with the Serbian poetess Desanka Maksimovich, to whom she dedicated the original poems. Translations from the Tatar by Gabdulla Tukay are known.

Of great interest are Tushnova's travel poems, written based on frequent trips around the country, depicting her modern life and the peculiar atmosphere of airports, stations, and trains. Observations, reflections and experiences on the road are organically woven into lyrical and love stories.

The most famous poem by Tushnova, which immortalized her name, is “Loving do not renounce”. Romance to the music of Mark Minkov was first performed in 1976 in the performance of the Moscow Theater. Pushkin, but became a super hit in 1977 performed by Alla Pugacheva. For decades, the masterpiece has enjoyed constant success with listeners. Pugacheva herself later called the song the main one in her repertoire, admitted that during the performance she breaks through a tear, and that a miracle can be given for this Nobel Prize.

In the spring of 1965, Veronica fell seriously ill and ended up in the hospital. She died in Moscow on July 7, 1965 from cancer. She was buried at the Vagankovsky cemetery with her parents (plot 20).

Personal life

She was married twice, both marriages broke up. From the first marriage with a psychiatrist Yuri Rozinsky, a daughter, Natalya, was born. Grandchildren - Natalia and Mikhail. Live in Moscow.

Tushnova's second husband (from the beginning of the 1950s) was Yuri Pavlovich Timofeev, a writer, editor-in-chief of the Detsky Mir publishing house. They lived together for about 10 years, parting was very difficult.

The last years of her life, Veronika was in love with the poet Alexander Yashin, which had a strong influence on her lyrics. According to testimonies, the first readers of these poems could not help feeling that they had in their palms “a pulsating and bloodied heart, tender, trembling in the hand and trying to warm the palms with its warmth.” However, Yashin did not want to leave his family (he had four children). Veronica was dying not only from illness, but also from longing for her beloved, who, after painful hesitation, decided to let sinful happiness out of her hands. Their last date took place in the hospital, when Tushnova was already on her deathbed. Yashin died exactly three years later, also from cancer.

Tushnova's last book, One Hundred Hours of Happiness, is a diary of this love, written by a seriously ill poetess.

Memory

One of the series of the author's program of Lev Anninsky "Ambush Regiment" (2008) of the TV channel "Culture" is devoted to the fate and work of the poetess.

Creation

Published collections of poetry

First book. 1945.
Ways-roads. 1954.
Road to Kluhor. 1956.
Heart memory. 1958.
Second wind. 1961.
Lyrics. 1963, 1969.
One hundred hours of happiness. 1965.
Poems. 1969.

Songs on poems by Veronika Tushnova

Notes

Veronika Tushnova. Tushnova Veronika Mikhailovna
Celebrity graves. Tushnova Veronika Mikhailovna (1915-1965)
Year of Tushnova (Vera Tretyakova) / Proza.ru - national server of modern prose
Veronika Tushnova For this you can give everything / comp. N. Yu. Rozinskaya. - M .: Eksmo, 2012. - S. 5. - 384 p. - ISBN 978-5-699-47055-6
http://www.kazalmanah.ru/nomer7/181.pdf
Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova | Art16.ru - Culture and Art in Tatarstan
Winter Poetry Ball | Kazan State Medical University
TOUNB them. A. S. Pushkin Evening to the 100th anniversary of Veronika Tushnova
"... In extreme suffering and the sharpest happiness": the anniversary of the poet Veronika Tushnova
Tushnova, Veronika Tushnova
Veronika Tushnova For this you can give everything / comp. N. Yu. Rozinskaya. - M .: "Eksmo", 2012. - S. 5-10. - 384 p. - ISBN 978-5-699-47055-6
Igor Lensky. Veronika Tushnova: “And now you are closing the compartment ...” (2012). Archived from the original on 17 October 2012. Retrieved 30 August 2012.
Veronika Tushnova poems
“And now you close the compartment…”
Not renounce loving

I'm so sad to paint in "watercolor" again. I'm so sad to guess everything from the lines of poetry .. Have you ever read a biography guessed from the verses, from the lines of rhymes? You will most likely say: No. I have never seen biographies like this before. Now I have to write it myself..

Guess, draw, foresee, anticipate What does it turn out to be? Unfinished portrait. Unexplained life. Unfolded fate: Or maybe - the prevailing one, in spite of everything? After all, the Fates of Poets are composed by God and the radiance of star charts in the night Sky. All this is not subject to simple human ideas about happiness ...

Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova was born on March 27, 1915 (date of the new style) in Kazan in the family of Mikhail Tushnov, a professor of medicine at Kazan University, and his wife, Alexandra, nee Postnikova, a graduate of the Higher Women's Bestuzhev Courses in Moscow. Professor Tushnov was several years older than his chosen one, and everything in the family obeyed his desires and will, right up to serving lunch or dinner.

Veronika, a dark-eyed, thoughtful girl who wrote poetry from childhood, but hid them from her father, according to his undeniable "desire", immediately after graduation, she entered the Leningrad Medical Institute (the professor's family had settled there by that time).

Veronika Mikhailovna studied at the faculty of therapy for four years, but she could no longer torture her soul: She was seriously fascinated by painting, and poetic inspiration did not leave.

At the beginning of the summer of 1941, Tushnova entered the Moscow Literary Institute named after M. Gorky: Her desire to professionally and seriously engage in poetry and philology seems to be beginning to come true.

But I didn't have to study. The war has begun. Veronika Mikhailovna's father had died by that time. There was a sick mother and little daughter Natasha.

By the way, the family, personal life of Veronika Tushnova is another mystery for connoisseurs of her work, for literary critics. Everything is hidden behind the seven seals of the secrets of the family archive, much has not been preserved, lost, much is hushed up ....

(However, this, tactful or indifferent - another question - silence, Veronika Mikhailovna's relatives, of course, have every right!)

Using her medical knowledge, Tushnova worked in hospitals as a doctor for almost all the years of the war - after all, they were sorely lacking! - nursed the wounded: The work is hard, often ungrateful, leaving, it would seem, no time for "fussing" with capricious rows of poetic lines: But Tushnova managed during night shifts, by the light of shaded lamps, listening to sleepy breathing and the groans of time to scribble something in a notebook. That's what they called her affectionately: "doctor with a notebook."

Probably, in the year of the Victory and general rejoicing, it was necessary to write something fanfare, ceremonial .. Tushnova never knew how to do this: She immediately and always - I will especially note! -had its own note of pure, piercing sadness, elegiacity, or something, what dashing "prorabotchiki" from the Union of Writers immediately called "the notorious intimacy", "rehashing far-fetched experiences in the spirit of Akhmatova's "salon" poems "Familiar words, not true whether? And more than that, a familiar attitude towards poetry: An attitude of denial, contempt, almost no love. Yes, almost there!

It is not surprising that the second book of Veronika Mikhailovna "Ways - Roads" will be published only ten years later, in 1954.

She just didn't dare to let it out. This book is based on poems often written on the road and inspired by road meetings and impressions, meeting new people and new places. "Azerbaijani Spring" is the name of one of Tushnova's poetic cycles.

Veronika Tushnova, in general, worked hard and hard all this "decade of silence": as a reviewer at the Khudozhestvennaya Literatura publishing house, as an essayist in a newspaper, she translated Rabindranath Tagore from interlinear words, and she did it superbly, since she was a lyricist, "by its very line essence," as she said herself.

These ten years were very difficult for Veronika Mikhailovna. She was looking for her own path in poetry. I searched hard, painfully, often losing time and losing a lot both for my heart and for my talent.

In 1952, Tushnova wrote the poem "The Road to Klukhor". (She was also included in the 1954 book.)

This poem was very well received by critics and reviewers, but today's reader would clearly see in it some deliberateness of themes, a tense tone, a rhetorical exaltation alien to the poetess, a craving for scale, false pathos: In general, all the features of now almost forgotten "Soviet poetry ".

But she was so afraid of the former rude reproaches, ridicule, and simply "the abyss of silence - non-printing", that she preferred to be an author who, in the words of one of the critics: "Did not acquire his creative face, did not find his voice" (A. Tarasenkov. Review of the collection by V. Tushnova "Ways - roads" 1954.)

It's sad to write all this .. and hard.

In fact, only on the last twenty pages of the collection, in the section "Poems about happiness", the poetess, as if throwing off a heavy burden, suddenly became herself, sounded in full force! Suddenly, the true face of the writer appeared - loving, languishing, suffering. At times it was almost portrait-accurate, the only one in its living concreteness: "eyelashes stuck together by a blizzard, a wet wing of hair, a transparent glow of the skin, a changeable oval face" - but at the same time it was a face like thousands of other female faces, it was the soul for sure just like they are suffering and loving, tormented and somewhere tormenting another, albeit passionately loved, person!

Each of the readers could feel in Tushnova’s lines her own “blizzard”, her happy and bitter moments, and only her own, but such a general, understandable for everyone disturbing feeling of the inexorable running of time and with a stubborn, slightly strange, deceptive and naive faith in happiness: Remember this, famous:

"...I will stop waiting for you,

And you will come quite suddenly.

And you come when it's dark

When a blizzard hits the glass...

When you remember how long ago

We did not warm each other!"

V. Tushnova "Do not renounce loving ..."

After these lines, learned and copied by hundreds of readers in a notebook, fame came to Veronika Mikhailovna. Her poetic voice gained strength and height.

The book Memory of the Heart, published in 1958, was already purely lyrical.

The main theme of the poetess came to the fore, pushing everything else:

There is love in the world!

The only one - in happiness and in sadness,

In sickness and health - one,

Same at the end as at the beginning

Which even old age is not terrible.

A building not built on sand,

Not idle fiction, she

Lifelong first date

Calm and thunderstorms alternating!

A hundred thousand times rising wave!

V. Tushnova. "Your Enemy"

A beautiful, black-haired woman with sad eyes (for her characteristic and unusual beauty to the Central Russian eye, she was called laughingly "oriental beauty"), with a soft character, who loved to give gifts, not only to relatives (Cousin Irina, who lives in Kuibyshev, did not have time to receive from Moscow parcels, sometimes with sandals, sometimes with gloves, sometimes with books!) but also just to friends; rushing at the first call for help at any time of the day or night, infecting everyone with laughter, fun and a true love of life; this beauty - a poetess, with whose poems about Love under her pillow a whole generation of girls fell asleep - she herself experienced a tragedy - the happiness of Feeling, illuminating her last years on Earth with its Light and giving a powerful stream of energy to her Creativity: This love was divided, but secret, because, as Tushnova herself wrote:

"Stands between us

Not a big sea -

bitter grief,

Someone else's heart."

In Tushnov's "Gloomy Land:"

The man whom Veronika Mikhailovna loved, the poet Alexander Yashin, was married, could not leave his family, and who knows, Veronika Mikhailovna, a person who understands everything, and perceives sharply and subtly, could, because poets from God have "nerves at their fingertips ", - decide on such a sharp turn of the Fates, more tragic than happy? Probably not. She called her feeling "a storm that I can't handle" and trusted its slightest shades and modulations to her poems, like diary lines. Those who read (published after the death of the poetess, in 1969!) Poems inspired by this deep and surprisingly tender feeling, could not get rid of the feeling that in their palm lies "a pulsating and bloodied heart, tender, trembling in the hand and tries to warm his palms with his warmth": A better comparison cannot be imagined. Maybe that's why Tushnova's poetry is still alive, books are republished, placed on Internet sites and Tushnova's lines, light as wings of a butterfly, by the way, created "in extreme suffering and acute happiness" (I. Snegova) know more than details her complex, almost tragic, biography: However, such are the Fates of almost all true Poets, it is a sin to complain about this!

P.S. Veronika Mikhailovna was dying in great agony. Not only from a terrible illness, but also from longing for a loved one who finally decided to release bitterly sinful happiness from his hands: The poetess died on July 7, 1965.

She was barely 50 years old. There were manuscripts left on the table: unfinished pages of the poem and the new cycle of poems.

Three years after his Beloved, Alexander Yashin died, yearning, and rushing about in this cold longing until his last days. The diagnosis also sounded ominous - "cancer"

How can one not recall the classic: "There are strange rapprochements!"

Veronika Tushnova, famous Soviet poetess. The first collection of poems was published in 1945, and it was called "The First Book". Her lyrical poems gained particular popularity, the collections "Memory of the Heart" - 1958, "Second Wind" - 1960, "Lyric" - 1963, "100 Hours of Happiness" - 1965 were published - this is the author's last lifetime edition. In subsequent years, poems by Veronika Tushnova were repeatedly reprinted. She died of cancer in 1965.

Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova was born on March 27, 1915 (date of the new style) in Kazan in the family of Mikhail Tushnov, a professor of medicine at Kazan University, and his wife, Alexandra, nee Postnikova, a graduate of the Higher Women's Bestuzhev Courses in Moscow. Professor Tushnov was several years older than his chosen one, and everything in the family obeyed his desires and will, right up to serving lunch or dinner.

Veronika Mikhailovna studied at the faculty of therapy for four years, but she could no longer torture her soul: She was seriously fascinated by painting, and poetic inspiration did not leave.

But I didn't have to study. The war has begun. Veronika Mikhailovna's father had died by that time. There was a sick mother and little daughter Natasha.

(However, this, tactful or indifferent - another question - silence, Veronika Mikhailovna's relatives, of course, have every right!)

It is not surprising that the second book of Veronika Mikhailovna "Ways - Roads" will be published only ten years later, in 1954.

In 1952, Tushnova wrote the poem "The Road to Klukhor". (She was also included in the 1954 book.)

It's sad to write all this .. and hard.

"...I will stop waiting for you,

And you will come quite suddenly.

And you come when it's dark

When a blizzard hits the glass...

When you remember how long ago

We did not warm each other!"

V. Tushnova "Do not renounce loving ..."

After these lines, learned and copied by hundreds of readers in a notebook, fame came to Veronika Mikhailovna. Her poetic voice gained strength and height.

The book Memory of the Heart, published in 1958, was already purely lyrical.

The main theme of the poetess came to the fore, pushing everything else:

There is love in the world!

The only one - in happiness and in sadness,

In sickness and health - one,

Same at the end as at the beginning

Which even old age is not terrible.

A building not built on sand,

Not idle fiction, she

Lifelong first date

Calm and thunderstorms alternating!

A hundred thousand times rising wave!

V. Tushnova. "Your Enemy"

"Stands between us

Not a big sea -

bitter grief,

Someone else's heart."

In Tushnov's "Gloomy Land:"

She was barely 50 years old. There were manuscripts left on the table: unfinished pages of the poem and the new cycle of poems.

Three years after his Beloved, Alexander Yashin died, yearning, and rushing about in this cold longing until his last days. The diagnosis also sounded ominous - "cancer"

How can one not recall the classic: "There are strange rapprochements!"

Veronika Tushnova wrote with her heart, otherwise she could not. Hence the light soulful intonation of her lyrics, hence the unique charm of her beautiful poetry.

Veronika Mikhailovna Tushnova

She was born on March 14 (27 n.s.) in Kazan in a professorial family. She graduated from high school there. She has been writing poetry since childhood. Then, together with her family, she moved to Leningrad and, at the request of her father, entered a medical institute. She did not graduate from the institute, although she studied for four years. She took up painting, at the same time a serious passion for poetry began.

In 1941 she entered the Literary Institute. M. Gorky, but did not have to study. The war began, and she began to work in hospitals, having a little daughter and a sick mother in her arms. Continues to write poetry.

In 1945, the Young Guard publishing house published Tushnova's poetry collection The First Book. In the 1950s, Tushnova published the poem "The Road to Klukhor", "Ways-Roads".

Tushnova's true talent was revealed in the last period of her work: the collections "Memory of the Heart" (1958), "Second Wind" (1961) and "One Hundred Hours of Happiness" (1965). Love is a cross-cutting theme in her poems, sorrow and joy, loss and hope, present and future are associated with it. She spoke at the top of her voice about love, called for genuine human relations between people. Her poems were very popular.

Published collections of poetry

First book. 1945.
Ways-roads. 1954.
Road to Kluhor. 1956.
Heart memory. 1958.
Second wind. 1961.
Lyrics. 1963, 1969.
One hundred hours of happiness. 1965.
Poems. 1969.

I say goodbye to you

* * *
I say goodbye to you
at the last line.
With true love
maybe you will meet.
Let another, dear,
the one with which - paradise,
I still swear:
remember! remember!
remember me if
morning ice crunches
if suddenly in the sky
the plane crashes
if the whirlwind curls
veil of stuffy clouds,
if the dog gets bored
whine at the moon
if red flocks
leaf fall will spin,
if the shutters are past midnight
knock out of place,
if it's white in the morning
roosters will crow,
remember my tears
lips, hands, poetry...
Don't try to forget
driving away from the heart,
don't try
don't mess-
too much of me!

How many days (L. Khmelnitskaya - V. Tushnova)

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Veronika Tushnova

Veronika Tushnova was born in Kazan, in the family of Mikhail Pavlovich Tushnov, a professor at the Kazan Veterinary Institute. The Tushnovs' house is still preserved on Bolshaya Krasnaya Street. Here she graduated from high school, entered the medical faculty of Kazan University. In the thirties, the family moved to Leningrad, where Veronika graduated from the Medical Institute and received a medical degree.

One of her passionate hobbies in these years is painting, she studies at the art studio of the Leningrad House of Scientists. She also writes poems, where again and again memories of childhood spent in Kazan arise:

And appeared before my eyes

wharf on freezing water

and a house in the city of Kazan,

in the Admiralty Sloboda.

Poems are deeply lyrical, imbued with feelings of beauty, love, suffering, unusually humane at their core... Before the war, Veronica applies to the literary institute, she was accepted, but the war ruined all plans. Again fate threw in native city, to the evacuation hospital. Tushnova is already married, waiting for news from her husband from the front:

Anxiety. Sadness. The postman comes

no news of a lovely man...

And the town is covered by a blizzard

up to the rooftops. And, it seems, forever.

Waiting for love

The pre-war years were happy and eventful for the girl: she studied at medical institute, prepared a dissertation on histology, got married, gave birth to a daughter, and her first poems appeared in print.

Changeable, bright words,
I think they look like butterflies.
I don't sleep at night until dawn
I may have become even more stubborn -
catch, grab, by all means!
And here I am catching them like butterflies.

To catch a poem and convey it to the reader alive, safe, quivering - is this not the main task of the poet? Just at this time, Veronica realized that her real vocation was not medicine, but poetry,
and even passed the exams at the Literary Institute. And then the war began.

“Why is it possible without millions? Why can't you do without one?

It is not known under what circumstances and when exactly Veronika Tushnova met the poet and writer Alexander Yashin (1913-1968), whom she fell in love with so bitterly and hopelessly and to whom she dedicated her most beautiful poems, included in her last collection "One Hundred Hours of Happiness". Hopeless - because Yashin, the father of seven children, was married for the third time. Close friends jokingly called the family of Alexander Yakovlevich "Yashinsky collective farm."

"The unsolvable cannot be resolved, the incurable cannot be healed...". And judging by her poems, Veronika Tushnova could only be healed of her love by her own death.

Lev Anninsky in his article "Veronika Tushnova:" Do not renounce, loving ... "connects the main events in the life of my heroes with 1961:

"In 1961 - a passionate, indomitable, almost insane, sometimes deliberately tongue-tied priestess of love, who does not recognize laws and knows no barriers"

They say that it was Alexander Yashin who recommended Bulat Okudzhava to the Writers' Union. So who is he - "one single", who became the air and sky for Veronika Tushnova?

Yashin ( real name- Popov) Alexander Yakovlevich (1913-1968), poet, prose writer. Born on March 14 (27 n.s.) in the village of Bludnovo Vologda region in a peasant family. In the years Patriotic War volunteered for the front and as a war correspondent and political worker participated in the defense of Leningrad and Stalingrad, in the liberation of the Crimea.

It is to Yashin that the poet Nikolai Rubtsov and prose writer Vasily Belov owe their formation in Russian literature in many respects.

After the release of the stories “Leverage” and “Vologda Wedding”, the doors of publishing houses and editorial offices were closed for the laureate of the Stalin Prize. Many of his works remained unfinished.

He is loved by an amazing woman, talented, beautiful, sensitive ... “But he doesn’t know anything about it, he’s busy with his affairs and thoughts ... he will pass and won’t look, and won’t look back, and won’t guess to smile at me.”

“Two roads on earth are not accidental - this one and this one, that one strains the legs, this one stirs the soul,” Bulat Okudzhava wrote in his poem.

Alexander Yashin was "tired of his legs" by a lot - and a civic position, when he, as best he could, asserted in his stories and poems his right to the truth, and a huge family, in which not everything just went well either, and that image of a guardian of folk traditions, to whom he owes was followed by a father of seven children, a loving and caring husband, a moral guide for aspiring writers

* * *
I open the lonely volume -
shed bound volume.
The man wrote these lines.
I don't know for whom he wrote.

Let him think and love otherwise
and in centuries we have not met ...
If I cry from these lines,
so they were meant for me.

Veronika Tushnova

Deadly diagnosis - for two

They were born on the same day. It is said that such people live similar lives. Did it mean fate for two? They were attracted to each other, but many reasons, important and not very important, did not allow them to be together.

Veronica and Alexander saw each other often. Yashin valued his family and thought carefully about how to keep his relationship with his mistress a secret. He chose other cities, villages for dates, they went to nature together, spent the night in hunting lodges. Returning home by train, the poet asked his beloved to get off two or three stops earlier. But even this "exquisite" conspiracy did not save from exposure. The secret became clear. The relationship had to end. The gap was a real tragedy for Tushnova.

After some time, the poetess learned her terrible diagnosis - cancer. All her days became the same: gray chambers and the realization of hopelessness. She was stuffed with medicines, Veronica lost weight and almost stopped smiling.

“And then he came! - recalls a friend of the poetess Mark Sobol, - Veronika ordered us to turn to the wall while she gets dressed. Soon she quietly called out: "Boys ..." I turned around and ... stunned. There was a beauty in front of us! I will not be afraid of this word, for it is said precisely. Smiling, with glowing cheeks, a young beauty who has never known any ailments. And then I felt with particular force that everything written by her was true ... "

But she got worse. Veronica did not want her beloved to see her exhausted by a serious illness, forbade him to come.

celebrity graves

On July 7, 1965, the famous Soviet poetess died. She was only 50. Yashin could not come to terms with the loss for a long time. But the death of his beloved seemed to liberate him, he ceased to be afraid of his feelings for this woman. He openly dedicated poems to her and did not realize that he himself did not have much time left. Ironically, Alexander Yashin died of the same illness as Tushnova three years later.

Poems by Veronika Tushnova

* * *
Not renounce loving.
After all, life does not end tomorrow.
I will stop waiting for you
and you will come quite suddenly.
And you come when it's dark
when a blizzard hits the glass,
when you remember how long ago
we did not warm each other.
And so you want warmth,
never loved,
that you can't bear
three people at the machine.
And it will, as luck would have it, crawl
tram, subway, I don't know what's there.
And the blizzard will sweep the way
on the far approaches to the gate ...
And in the house there will be sadness and silence,
the wheezing of the counter and the rustle of the book,
when you knock on the door,
running upstairs without a break.
For this you can give everything
and so far I believe in it,
it's hard for me not to wait for you,
all day without leaving the door.

* * *
I'm leaving, I'm disappearing
for years, forever
kan in the snowy abyss,
I will disappear without a trace.

I draw the hour of farewell
smooth trail from the sled...
I don't risk anything
except for your life.

* * *
You don't like counting
clouds in blue.
You don't like walking
barefoot on the grass.
You do not love
fiber in the fields of cobwebs,
You do not love,
so that in the room
open window,
to open your eyes
to wide open the soul,
to wander slowly
and don't sin...
Everything was different
once upon a time.
Lots of power
love was given to me!
What to do now?
Help teach.
Locked up your life
lost keys.
And mine is running out
years fly by.
Shall we not meet
never?

Alla Pugacheva - Do not renounce loving

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* * *
You tell me:
Tired of sadness!
Be patient a little
I will return back.

Do you want love
As table light:
turned - burns,
turned and no.

Do you want a spare
(will come in handy in time) -
and love is not a mushroom,
does not salt for the future.

Live your way
do not teach me,
Or is there a fire
or no fire!