Modern Russian children's poets Moritz. Yunna Moritz - biography, information, personal life

In 1954, Moritz graduated from school in Kyiv and entered the correspondence department of the Faculty of Philology of Kyiv University.

In 1955, she entered the full-time poetry department of the Literary Institute in Moscow, from which she graduated in 1961.

Yunna Moritz's poems were first published in the magazine "Soviet Ukraine" in 1955. In 1957, the first collection of her poems, “Conversation about Happiness,” was published in Kyiv.

In 1961, the poetess’s first book, “Cape Zhelaniya” (named after the cape on Novaya Zemlya), was published in Moscow, based on her impressions of a trip to the Arctic, which she undertook in the fall of 1956 on the icebreaker “Sedov”.

For her poems “Fist Fight” and “In Memory of Titian Tabidze” (1962), Yunna Moritz was blacklisted by publishers and censors, so her next book of poems, “The Vine,” was published only nine years later, in 1970. In 1963, in the magazine "Youth" under the heading "For younger brothers and sisters" she managed to publish a series of poems for children.

From 1970 to 1990, Moritz published books of lyrics “A Harsh Thread”, “In the Light of Life”, “The Third Eye”, “Favorites”, “Blue Fire”, “On This High Shore”, “In the Lair of a Voice”.

From 1990 to 2000, her poems were not published. In the 2000s, poetry collections “Face” (2000), “In this way” (2000, 2001), “According to the law - hello to the postman” (2005, 2006) were published. The books included graphics and paintings by the poetess, which Moritz herself considers not illustrations, but poems in the language of painting.

Since 1985, Moritz has conducted author evenings at international poetry festivals in London, Cambridge, Rotterdam, Toronto, and Philadelphia. Her poems have been translated into all European languages, as well as Japanese, Turkish and Chinese.

In addition to poetry, Moritz writes stories and does translations. Her cycle of short prose “Stories about the Miraculous,” published in the magazine “October”, “Literary Gazette” and abroad, was published as a separate book in 2008.

In the 1990s, Yunna Moritz took part in the political life of Russia, was a member of radical democratic movements, and made political comments on Radio Liberty.

Yunna Moritz. In 2004, “for the civil courage of the writer,” she was awarded the A.D. Sakharov.

In 2011, the poetess was awarded in the field of culture.

Yunna Moritz's son, Dmitry Glinsky (Vasiliev), created a youth cadet organization - the Young Russia Union - in 1990. In 2002, he served as deputy director of the Institute for Globalization Problems. Currently, he is a member of the Commission on Jewish People at the UJA-Federation of NY (since 2009) and the Commission on Immigration Issues of the New York Branch of the American Jewish Committee (since 2011), founder and president of the Russian-speaking Public Council of Manhattan and the Bronx.

The material was prepared based on information from RIA Novosti and open sources

Yunna Petrovna Moritz
Russian poetess.

Yunna Petrovna (Pinkhusovna) Moritz was born on June 2, 1937 in Kyiv. In the same year, her father was arrested, released a few months later, but after the torture he suffered, he quickly began to go blind. According to the poetess, her father’s blindness had an extraordinary impact on the development of her inner vision.

In 1954 she graduated from school in Kyiv and entered the philological faculty of Kyiv University. By this time, the first publications in periodicals appeared.

In 1955 she entered the full-time poetry department of the Literary Institute. A. M. Gorky in Moscow and graduated in 1961, despite the fact that in 1957 she was expelled from there along with Gennady Aigi for “unhealthy moods in creativity.” This was a serious “repression” with eviction from Moscow, which in 1957 was fraught with more than just “disgrace”.

In 1961, the poetess’s first book, “Cape Zhelaniya” (named after the cape on Novaya Zemlya), was published in Moscow, based on her impressions of a trip to the Arctic on the icebreaker “Sedov” in the summer of 1956.

Her books were not published (for the poems “Fist Fight” and “In Memory of Titian Tabidze”) from 1961 to 1970 (at that time there were “black lists” for publishers and censorship) and from 1990 to 2000. (Post-War Russian Poetry, Edited by Daniel Weissbort, Penguin Books, London, 1974).

But her “pure lyricism of resistance,” stated in the book “By the Law - Hello to the Postman,” is open to a wide range of attentive readers, and the space of this resistance is enormous along all radii. The poem “The Star of Serbia” (about the bombing of Belgrade), which was published in the book “Face,” as well as the cycle of short prose “Stories about the Miraculous” (published in “October”, in the “Literary Gazette”) are dedicated to the highest values ​​- human life and human dignity. ”, and abroad, and now it has been published as a separate book - “Stories about the Miraculous”).

Her lyrical poems are written in the best traditions of classical poetry, and at the same time absolutely modern. Yunna Moritz says about her literary teachers and passions: “My contemporary was always Pushkin, my closest companions were Pasternak, Akhmatova, Tsvetaeva, Mandelstam, Zabolotsky, and my teachers were Andrei Platonov and Thomas Mann.”

She includes among her poetic circles “Blok, Khlebnikov, Homer, Dante, King Solomon - the alleged author of the Song of Songs - and the poets of Greek antiquity” (from an Interview with the Gazeta newspaper, May 31, 2004).

Yunna Moritz is the author of poetry books, including “In the Lair of the Voice” (1990), “Face” (2000), “Thus” (2000), “According to the Law - Hello to the Postman!” (2005), as well as books of poetry for children (“A Big Secret for a Small Company” (1987), “Bouquet of Cats” (1997)). Many songs have been written based on the poems of Yunna Moritz. She is a magnificent artist; her books contain hundreds of sheets of her own graphics, which are not illustrations, but “such poetry in such a language.”

Yunna Moritz's poems were translated by Lydia Pasternak, Stanley Kunitz, William Jay Smith with Vera Dunham, Thomas Whitney, Daniel Weisbort, Elaine Feinstein, Caroline Forché. Her poems have been translated into all European languages, as well as Japanese and Chinese.

Prize winner named after. A.D. Sakharov - “for the civil courage of the writer”, the Triumph Prize (Russia), the Golden Rose (Italy), the International Moscow Book Fair Prize in the Book of the Year category - Poetry 2005, the Prize named after. A. Delviga - 2006, prize of the International Book Fair in the category “Together with the book we grow” 2008.

Thematic table of contents (Alien)

Yunna Moritz has a website where she posts poems dedicated to political events and her attitude to today's life.

Here are some of them. Below there are poems about the war on Victory Day, about Moses, who spent 40 years starving the worthless people in the desert, about the “spoiled gene pool” that the reformers discovered in everyone except themselves.

x x x
If only I had been crooked these years
Spent time on another planet,
I could be in Russia today
Stomp your magic foot loudly!..

To begin with, I would download the right,
Much like an exile, -
I would receive gratitude
Because I completely survived.

And Russia would be guilty
For my life in a foreign land,
But Yunna Petrovna screwed up
Your irrevocable happiness.

I won't come back from anywhere now,
Because I stayed here
Look at the Russian miracle,
To his Samoyed devil,

To his mechanisms of contempt
To a country that has not escaped anywhere,
Where in the air are poems
My Reader is walking towards me.

He is the inhabitant of the poet's moon,
The owner of a poetic string,
Reader who has not escaped anywhere
A country that has not escaped anywhere.

MORAL STANDARDS
In a decent society that is free?..
In a decent society of bombings and blockades,
Revolutions packaged in a poster
Freedom - to defeat anyone?
In a decent society, where the hegemon shits?
Is brutal torture legal in polite society?
In a decent society, where there is an abundance of horror -
The greatness of the hegemonic hormone?
In polite society, where it is indecent to be
Russia?.. In this excellent society?..
No, I’d rather be indecent in society,
Let your rules of decency be forgotten!

* * *
I love you, as they love everything that passes by
It rushed by without killing when it could have.
I love you and I am loved by you
Because they didn’t kill, but they could have,

When I was bombed on the train,
Falling face down on broken glass,
And miraculously came out of the fire and smoke
Into the space where the ships were burning,

Tanks, planes, people were burning,
Earth and sky, blood poured from the eyes.
I love you with all the memory of a miracle,
Which saved me from you.

My angel in that war was red, red,
And I was five years old, and now I’m a hundred.
I love you so ardently, so passionately,
God forbid you forget why.

B I B L I Y B A B L A
How long can we celebrate this Victory Day?..
Isn't it time to celebrate, brothers, Bubble Day?

If Russia had been destroyed by the Nazis,
They restored order by dissolving the Gulag,
We, like Europeans, would be fragrant,
The European flag would fly above us.

Let our Victory not tease anyone, -
Let's tear this nasty thing out of our brains, brothers!
There was no Victory, there was a family holiday,
Just a party!.. No enemies

There was no trace!.. Just our grandfathers
There were Stalinists, believing the scoundrel.
They are the only ones who need this Victory Day,
To rattle orders on the parade ground.

Grandfathers are dying out - twenty thousand a year,
And when the last one collapses into paralysis,
It is necessary, brothers, to flog him publicly
For the shame of Victory, for Victory game!

There was no Victory, there were only troubles,
Stalin's delusions, brutal deeds.
Stalin slipped us the Bible of Victory -
This disgusting thing! - instead of the Bible Bubble.

WAY
How does a pilot burn excess fuel?
And makes extra circles in the sky, -
So Moses walks in circles,
Burning surplus brains in the desert
The generation that is for Moses
It deteriorated in slavery, it became superfluous...
For forty years, the desert has been sowed with bones,
This sacrifice will be entered into a contract with the Almighty.

Under such a contract as excess fuel,
Extra people in the picture are burned
Modernization!.. Joyfully, screamingly,
Indestructible, trumpeted from now on:
"I wish they would die out soon!
Everybody got spoiled in slavery!
Burn out the empire of slave morality!
Where is Moses?!" He is everywhere, of course.

It's scary to say, but everywhere, everywhere,
Where a person is simply exterminated -
The spirit of Moses works honestly,
Even - oh horror! - in the hell of the Holocaust.
And the clergy with "people from art"
They console us, dispelling doubts:
The extra ones will die out without any extra crunch, -
Our desert is full of Moses.

GENE POOL
Big business is coming
To save, to pull by the hair,
For our mineral resources and forests
Russia!.. Money sausage
I've blown my sails,
This is our pride and beauty -
Big business is coming!

Armed with the power of words
It's easy to turn us into donkeys
And out of impudence, take it for a show off:
"You destroyed the gene pool!
You are historical trash
And finishing you off is not a question!
No gene pool - no country,
You must commit suicide!"

We committed suicide by a third,
But that’s not enough!.. Watch
We must go to the future!.. From now on
In another third we will commit suicide, -
Then big business
They'll drag us out by the hair,
For our mineral resources and forests, -
And we’ll finally get drunk with happiness -
We've shrunk by two-thirds!
Our gene pool is pure dirt,
Hurry, let's kill ourselves quickly!

Then big business
And we will be taken to heaven,
And our geniuses and talents
It won't harm them either,
Technological bows
Stamping for other people's victories, -
There weren’t and aren’t any of our own?!?
We destroyed the gene pool?!?
To show off our impudence -
Just a piece of cake, turning into donkeys
Armed with the power of words?!?
No gene pool, no country,
Should we commit suicide?!?
Big business is coming -
That's gene pool heaven?!?

Select district Agapovsky municipal district Argayash municipal district Ashinsky municipal district Bredinsky municipal district Varnensky municipal district Verkhneuralsky municipal district Verkhneufaleysky urban district Emanzhelinsky municipal district Etkul municipal district Zlatoust urban district Karabash urban district Kartalinsky municipal district Kasli municipal district Katav-Ivanovsky municipal district Kizilsky municipal district Kopeysky urban district Korkinsky municipal district Krasnoarmeysky municipal district Kunashaksky municipal district Kusinsky municipal district Kyshtym urban district Lokomotiv urban district Magnitogorsk urban district Miass urban district Nagaybak municipal district Nyazepetrovsky municipal district Ozersky urban district Oktyabrsky municipal district Plastovsky municipal district Satkinsky municipal district Sverdlovsk region Snezhinsky urban district Sosnovsky municipal district Trekhgorny urban district Troitsky urban district Troitsky municipal district Uvelsky municipal district Uysky municipal district Ust-Katavsky urban district Chebarkul urban district Chebarkul municipal district Chelyabinsk urban district Chesmensky municipal district Yuzhnouralsky urban district

Writer, artist
R. 1937

The works of the wonderful poet, prose writer, member of the Union of Russian Writers, artist Yunna Moritz are loved by both children and adults: “Dogs can bite...”, “Rubber hedgehog...”, “Pony,” “It’s good to be young...”. It is known that she lives in Moscow, but few know that Chelyabinsk is not a foreign city to her.

Yunna's childhood coincided with the Great Patriotic War. She brought her family to Chelyabinsk. These years remained in my memory for the rest of my life: it is no coincidence that many years later Yu. Moritz wrote stories and poems about that terrible time and about the city that sheltered her family. It is worth carefully reading her prose book “Stories of the Miraculous” and the poetry collections “On this High Shore” and “By the Law - Hello to the Postman” to see how much she talked about her connections with Chelyabinsk. One of the stories about life in Chelyabinsk is meaningfully called “Cold, Glad, Light” (collection “Stories about the Miraculous”). The piercing, frank poems and stories about this period of the poetess’ life are interesting to us not only because they are connected with Yunna Petrovna’s childhood - they are vivid pictures from the life of Chelyabinsk residents during the war.

Yu. P. Moritz was born on June 2, 1937 in Kyiv. In a short autobiography, she talked about her parents: “... My father had a double higher education: engineering and law, he worked as an engineer on transport lines. Mother graduated from high school before the revolution, gave lessons in French and mathematics, worked in the arts, as a nurse in a hospital, and in whatever she had to, even as a woodcutter.

In the year of my birth, my father was arrested on a slanderous denunciation, after several tortured months he was found innocent, he returned, but quickly began to go blind. My father's blindness had an enormous impact on the development of my inner vision.

In 1941–45, my mother, father, older sister and I lived in Chelyabinsk, my father worked at a military plant...”

Yunna Petrovna will describe the details of her father’s arrest in the story “Cold, Glad, Light” (collection “Stories about the Miraculous”). This story echoes a later, more “happier” one that happened in Chelyabinsk: “Three people came and the house manager. Dad was hanging a glass house on the Christmas tree. The whole house fell and broke. Mom became all white. And dad is all black. And they misbehaved in the chest of drawers, in the closet, in jars of cereal and jam. They gutted the desk and sofa...

Dad told mom: everything will work out. Just don't panic. Just don't panic. Just no nerves. Children are so impressionable! Their psyche must be protected. For them nothing should change. Someone got something wrong somewhere. An error has occurred. This is a small thing in the great process of great history. Courage and calmness. The greatest knows everything, sees everything, hears everything. Dad will write to him. And mom will write to him. Mom gave dad soap and a bag of junk. He did not take lard or bread. They feed there.

Dad exchanged this soap there for cigarettes. He smoked a lot. This caused his liver and kidneys to fail. Then he could not swallow anything, he ate only liquid. You can't smoke that much. He turned into a skeleton. And then meat never grew on it again. From this smoke he quickly began to go blind...”

So, war. The Nazis quickly approached Kyiv. The train in which the family was traveling for evacuation came under brutal bombing. Miraculously she survived. 44 years later, Yunna Moritz described all the horror of that time in the poem “Memory”:

From a burning train

on the grass

children were thrown away.

I was swimming

through a bloody, slippery ditch of human entrails, bones...

So in the fifth year

God sent me

salvation and a long journey...

but horror flowed into my blood and flesh -

and rolls there like quicksilver!..

In the story “Cold, Glad, Light” she writes about the consequences of that bombing: “I was bombed on a train. This makes me blink a lot. And it’s hard for me to play with other children, they tease me for blinking...”

And here is the family in Chelyabinsk. At first they huddled in someone else’s kitchen, and then throughout the war they lived in the basement of a house on the street. Elkina (not far from today's Lenin Avenue). It didn't survive. Later, J. Moritz will write about this housing:

Throughout the war I lived underground, where ice cream was stored before the war.

We warmed the earth as a family, taking the place that was rightfully ours.

We loved this cellar

They built a brick stove there,

Whitewashed the walls, ceiling,

They laid a non-rag roof... I woke up at night -

I thought we were already dead...

And he ends this poem with the words:

...We loved this sarcophagus.

As they left, they smiled tearfully...

The poem “Those Times” contains another story from wartime childhood:

He was seven years old.

And I am seven years old.

I had tuberculosis, but the poor guy didn’t.

In the canteen for malnourished children

They gave me lunch...

I carried it out in a handkerchief

One of two cutlets...

We both survived, biting into one

Ticket for one lunch.

And two skeletons rubbed into heaven,

With one ticket!

Yunna actually suffered from tuberculosis at that time.

One could continue to quote Yunna Moritz’s poems about her childhood in Chelyabinsk. She remembered the cruel images of war for the rest of her life. Lines about a hungry boy in the poem “The Thief”:

In the winter of forty-three

I saw it with my own eyes,

like a thief stole from the market

piece of beef...

he was ten years old

Ten or twelve...

They caught the thief, started beating him, then the crowd came to their senses , felt sorry for the boy , people began to shove food at him,

But the thief didn't take anything

Just whined, whined,

Just tormented, tormented

Bloody piece of cow...

Not only in poetry, but also in Yunna Petrovna’s prose, the realities of Chelyabinsk life are reflected: how they lived, her father’s work... “...And the leader urgently sent dad to a secret factory to make a tank out of a tractor. But dad also made a plane, bombs, and mines. Now he receives rations. As everybody.

From our rations, mom and I sell alcohol at the market and buy shag for dad at 90 rubles for a glass with a top. And we take it to him at the factory. At the entrance they take our package and a note that everything is fine.

The plant is very disguised, and dad spends the night there in a disguised room. One day he spent the night at home and screamed terribly in his sleep, like an overrun dog...”

These are lines from the story “Cold, Glad, Light.” What was it really like? What factory did Yuna's father work at and who did he work for? It was not possible to contact Yunna Petrovna. The author of the article is grateful to the daughter of Yuri Libedinsky, Maria Govorova, who knew Yunna Moritz, for her help in searching for materials. At the same time, there was an appeal to the United State Archive of the Chelyabinsk Region. It turned out that lists of evacuees were kept there. And there is information about the family of Pyotr Borisovich Moritz. Yunna’s father worked at factory No. 541. Behind this number was hidden a cartridge factory, which was located in the building of the pedagogical institute. Father's position is head of the transport detachment. And here are the lines from Yunna Moritz’s letter to Maria Govorova: “Not only my dad, but also my sister Tina Petrovna Moritz worked at the factory, carrying casings for mines, when she was in the 9th grade and until she graduated from school... She constantly sweats” “throughout her life,” her back and abdominal muscles ached – from carrying heavy iron at that factory... Even before her retirement, she was paid some pennies for “work in the rear” – according to the certificates she obtained from Chelyabinsk. But I don’t know which factory my father worked at and which factory my sister worked at, to my deep shame... They made ammunition there, and my father was responsible for the transport and dispatch of wagons with this ammunition. One day the carriage got stuck somewhere in Biysk or Orsk, and my father was sent under escort to look for it - my mother was black with thoughts that the carriage would not be found and my father would be shot. But I remember well how he suddenly returned - alive! - in a red tattered sheepskin coat, he stank of gasoline and he was all wet from the snowstorm. A moment before his return, a tiny red spider descended from the ceiling of the basement, I screamed and squealed wildly in fear of this tiny one, which was swinging so close, and my mother said that this was great news and that maybe dad would return from his business trip.. At 41, we lived in the kitchen, slept in beds, and when I fell ill with measles, they made a separate bed for me, the window was overgrown with ice so thick that words cannot describe it, it was there, after measles, that I fell ill with pulmonary tuberculosis and “lymphadenitis” - quite a poet’s disease! !!”

In her short autobiography, Yunna Petrovna writes that her mother was given felt boots at work. And in the cold Ural winters they were worn in turns - mother and daughters. In addition to working in the hospital, my mother made artificial flowers, and six-year-old Yunna helped her (story “Flowers of My Mother”). They handed them over to the artel artel. “These products were the rage of Western fashion in one thousand nine hundred and forty-three; the warring fatherland sold them abroad, where these flowers were worn on dresses, coats and hats. Three times a month, my mother and I received excerpts - paragraphs - fragments from the artel - scraps of washed hospital sheets and pillowcases, a coil of thin wire... a jar of smelly glue, two or three paints... This made one hundred and twenty-five glasses of wonderful flowers. They were cut, painted and perfected to dazzling elegance by my mother, transparent from hunger...”

In September 1944, Yunna entered school No. 1 named after. Engels, where her older sister Tina already studied. In poems and stories it is easy to find traces of school life in those years: “There is one desk for three. Don't put two elbows on your desk. This makes it cramped for the neighbor... There is thick purple ice on the windows. There is no blowing through the putty, but the cold bites into the walls like apples, and the walls crunch.

It’s coldest in the wall and in the back... Mom washed Masha. Masha washed Misha. Where did mom and Masha get the soap?

At the market - two hundred rubles a piece. The best soap is dog soap with tar, it kills typhoid lice...”

“I eat a blotter... Everyone chews a blotter. The whole class. Forty-three people." “Blotting paper is like air, you can eat it endlessly. It turns out to be a pinkish porridge in your mouth. Fresh, slightly sweet..." “The bell will ring soon and they will give you a bun with sugar. And whoever wasn’t at school yesterday will have two…” (story “Cold, Glad, Light”).

Then, to support the children, during the big break they were given a small bun and a teaspoon of sugar. Yuna was lucky. She had a good teacher - Antonina Kuzminichna Moskvicheva. Her husband is at the front. She treated her students like her children. Yunna remembered that when she got sick and didn’t go to school for twenty days, Antonina Kuzminichna came to her and brought her twenty buns and the same number of spoons of sugar, which she saved for the girl.

“In the fall, we helped her (the teacher - author) ferment cabbage in a barrel. She is starving with two children. And he wears galoshes on bast shoes, and bast shoes on woolen shoes... On Saturdays there are concerts for the wounded. I sing and read Nekrasov. It smells of iodine, blood, pus and sweat. At first it feels terribly nauseous. And then everyone gets used to it. And they recover” (story “Cold, Glad, Light”).

And now the war is over. In the story “Apples” the following lines:

“The last apple was eaten when I was four years old, then the war took us far from apples, and I completely forgot that they were eaten. But I made a great many of those apples with my mother and sister, not yearning for a living apple at all - only for round bread... I made the last apple when I was eight years old, right then the war ended, and we went, went in the opposite direction, home, in wooden carriages, sometimes in carts... And suddenly at the station they were selling apples in buckets!... Eating an apple was like eating a stool or a door key. My memory did not eat apples and resisted fiercely... Then I had to bite into one apple with a leaf, a white filling. And that white apple turned red...”

Everyone had vitamin deficiency back then. It is necessary to clarify: before the war and during it there were no collective gardens in Chelyabinsk, there were almost no apple trees. That’s why Yunna couldn’t see real apples.

Yunna Moritz has a wonderful poem “After the War” (1955).

A light flickers in the ruins,

There is someone alive there, holding the fire between his teeth.

And the world is beautiful, and my path is so far!..

And it smells from me three miles away

A living piece of laundry soap,

And pure power soars above us -

The flannel is clean and the hair is clean!

And I'm dressed in a clean robe,

And I step next to a pure mother...

And there is no war, and we are leaving the bathhouse,

I am eight years old, and my journey is so far!

In 1945, the family returned to Kyiv, where Yunna graduated from school in 1954 with a gold medal and her first poems were published. She studied in Moscow at the Literary Institute named after. M. Gorky. She was expelled in 1957 for one year for “increasing unhealthy moods in her work,” but then reinstated and graduated in 1961. In the same year, the Moscow publishing house published the first book by Yu. Moritz, “Cape of Desire” (in 1956 she student traveled around the Arctic on the icebreaker "Sedov").

Yunna Moritz's children's poems were first published in the magazine "Youth" in 1963. Children and adults immediately fell in love with them. For its unconventional thought and freedom of opinion, it was included in the “black lists”, was not published for 20 years (from 1961 to 1970 and from 1990 to 2000), and was not released abroad. Her collections are published and republished: “A Big Secret for a Small Company” (1987, 1990), “By the Law - Hello to the Postman” (2005, 2006, 2008, 2010), “Bouquet of Cats” (1997), “Move Your Ears” (2003 , 2004, 2005, 2006), etc. Her books have been translated into all European languages, as well as Japanese and Chinese.

Quite a few poems became songs, especially many of them by the famous singer-bards Tatyana and Sergei Nikitin. Composer Yuli Galperin, when he lived in Chelyabinsk, wrote a cycle of songs based on the poems of Yunna Moritz. There are songs based on her words by the famous Chelyabinsk composer Elena Poplyanova.

Yunna Moritz is not only a poet, but also an artist. Since childhood, she learned to draw from her mother and older sister. Sister Tina Moritz became an architect in Kyiv. Yunna Petrovna herself illustrated many of her books. The drawings are original, bright, and greatly complement what was written by the poet and prose writer.

Yunna Petrovna is not forgotten in Chelyabinsk. The museum of school No. 1 contains materials about it. It was created in 1974 and was led by V. M. Pimenova for many years. Varvara Mitrofanovna corresponded with Yunna Petrovna. In a letter in 1986, Moritz promised to come to Chelyabinsk, but illness did not allow it.

The Chelyabinsk publishing house "Autograph" published Yunna Moritz's book "Vanechka" (2002). The entire collection consists of acrostics (the first letters of each line, when read from top to bottom, form a word or phrase). At the end of the book there are “love letters” and drawings from the poetess to her grandson Vanechka, who lives in America.

A great deal of correspondence and friendship connected Yunna Petrovna and the well-known Rubinsky family in Chelyabinsk. When the famous poet, composer, playwright, teacher Konstantin Rubinsky was little, he really liked the poems of Yunna Moritz. He was sure that all the poets had already died, and he cried, feeling sorry for her. Kostya’s mother, poet and musician Natalya Borisovna, wrote to Yunna Petrovna. A correspondence began, Kostya wrote poems and fairy tales to Yunna Petrovna in clumsy letters. When one day he fell ill, Yunna Petrovna sent him a rare medicine. The Rubinsky family carefully preserves letters from Yunna Moritz. With the permission of Konstantin Sergeevich Rubinsky, we present excerpts from one large letter, which mentions Yunna Petrovna’s little son, Mitya:

“Dear Kitty! I received your letter today and was very happy about it, because I love all your fairy tales extraordinarily... And in the morning sparrows, titmice, crows fly to my balcony, I give them a bun to tear to pieces, and they rejoice. When I walk down the street, these birds of mine accompany me to the metro or wait for me in a whole crowd at the store. So I work as a poultry worker... And now I’m writing you a letter and preparing soup for Mitya, and Mitya is typing out her stories on another typewriter, an old one. And I also fry potatoes for him. So I work as a cook. And at night I will write poems, stories and songs, and at the same time wash Mitya’s shirts and other very important things. So I work as a laundress...

Many people call me at night, and I talk to them while typing my work. And they ask: “Who prints this there?” And I say: “I just don’t know who is typing on my typewriter all night? Who could it be? If I come across him, this printer, I’ll take his typewriter away in no time, and I’ll send him to the police so that he doesn’t bother me sleeping at night!” And little by little, knock-knock, knock-knock, you see, I’ve come across a poem! This is how I work as a poet.

And you, my dear Kitty, write wonderful stories. Me and my friends really like them. When we get together on a cold winter evening, drink tea and read your fairy tales, and say: “Oh, yes, Kitty, hey, well done, his head is bright, and his soul is golden!”...

Yours, Yuna Moritz

Please send me your photograph, I will look at it.”

Yunna Petrovna’s poem “Notebook for Fairy Tales” is dedicated to Kostya Rubinsky:

Little birdie,

please just for an hour

I'll land you

near the Miass river.

There is the city of Chelyabinsk,

And in the city there is a house,

and in the house is my friend,

little gnome!

His name is Kostya,

And he's five years old

He can

Printed letters

Write…

This poem was included in the collection “A Big Secret for a Small Company” (1987). By the way, two years after its publication, it received 2nd prize at the All-Union competition for the best children's book.

Yunna Moritz is a laureate of the Prize. Andrei Sakharov “For the civil courage of a writer” (2004), “Triumph” prize (Russia, 2005), “Golden Rose” (Italy), national prize “Book of the Year” (Moscow, international exhibition - fair, 2005, 2008), prize Government of the Russian Federation for the book “The Roof Was Driving Home” (2011).

Chelyabinsk can be proud that the talented poet, prose writer, and artist Yunna Moritz remembers our city and writes about it.

N. A. Kapitonova

Essays

• MORITZ, Y. P. Selected / Y. P. Moritz. – Moscow: Council. writer, 1982. – 495 p. : portrait
• MORITZ, Y. P. In the light of life / Yunna Moritz; [art. V. Medvedev]. – Moscow: Council. writer, 1977. – 143 p. : ill. – (Book of poems).
• MORITZ, Y. P. The Third Eye: book. poems / Yunna Moritz. – Moscow: Council. writer, 1980. – 142 p.
• MORITZ, J.P. The gnome's house, the gnome is home! : [poems: book-toy with cutting: for preschool. age] / Yunna Moritz; [art. K. Ter-Zakharyants]. – Moscow: Planet of Childhood: Publishing house. house "Premiere", 1998. - p. : color ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. A dog can be a biter...: [poems: for ml. school age] / Yunna Moritz; rice. M. Belomlinsky. – Moscow: Ed.-ed. ob-nie "Samovar": Shalash, 1998. – 119, p. : color ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Face: poems; poem / Yu. P. Moritz. – Moscow: Rus. book., 2000. – 539 p. : ill. – (Poet. Russia).
• MORITZ, Y. P. Favorite pony: [poems] / Yunna Moritz. – Moscow: Pink Elephant, . - With. : ill. – (Coloring book).
• MORITZ, Y. P. Vanechka: [acrostics: for children] / Y. P. Moritz; artist Gala Rudykh. – Chelyabinsk: AutoGraph, 2002. – 89, p. : ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Move your ears: [for children from 5 to 500 years old: for preschoolers. and ml. school age] / Yunna Moritz; thin Evgeny Antonenkov. – Moscow: ROSMEN, 2003. – 148, p. : color ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Big secret for a small company: [poems] / Yunna Moritz; [art. I. Krasovskaya]. – Moscow: Strekoza-Press, 2005. – p. color ill. - (We read it ourselves).
• MORITZ, Y. P. Move your ears: [poems: for preschool. and ml. school age] / Yunna Moritz; artist Evgeny Antonenkov. – Moscow: Rosman, 2006. – 148, p. : ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Beautiful things are never in vain / Yunna Moritz; [rice. author]. – Moscow: Eksmo, 2006. – 350, p. : ill. - (Poet. b-ka).
• MORITZ, Y. P. According to the law - hello to the postman: [poems] / Yunna Moritz. – Moscow: Time, 2006. – 572, p. : ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Tumber-bumber: [poems: for reading by adults to children] / Yunna Moritz; artist E. Antonenkov. – [B. m.]: Papa Carlo, 2007. – p. : color ill. – (Magic line).
• MORITZ, Y. P. The roof was going home: poems-hee-hee for children from 5 to 500 years old / Yunna Moritz; artist Evgeny Antonenkov. – Moscow: Vremya, 2010. – 95 p. : color ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Limon Malinovich Compress: poems-hee-hee for children from 5 to 500 years old: [for children younger. school age] / Yunna Moritz; artist Evgeny Antonenkov. – Moscow: Vremya, 2011. – 95 p. : color ill.
• MORITZ, Y. P. Stories about the miraculous / Yunna Moritz; [drawing by Yunna Moritz]. – Moscow: Time, 2011. – 444, p. : ill., color. ill., fax, portrait

Literature

• GUSEVA, M. F. Moritz Yunna Petrovna (Pinkhusovna) / M. F. Guseva // Chelyabinsk region: encyclopedia: in 7 volumes / editorial board: K. N. Bochkarev (chief editor) [and others]. – Chelyabinsk: Kamen. belt, 2008. – T. 4. – P. 380.
• KAPITONOVA, N. A. Yunna Petrovna Moritz / N. A. Kapitonova // Literary local history. Chelyabinsk region: [textbook. A guide to the basics. and Wed (full) school] / N. A. Kapitonova. – Chelyabinsk: Abris, 2008. – Issue. 2. – pp. 109–116.
• KAPITONOVA, N. A. Yunna Moritz: “There is the city of Chelyabinsk, and in the city there is a house...” / N. A. Kapitonova // Ray (Keren). – Chelyabinsk, 2011. – No. 1 (34). – P. 2–6.
• KAPITONOVA, N. Chelyabinsk childhood of Yunna Moritz / Nadezhda Kapitonova // Chelyab. worker. – 2011. – September 23. – P. 6.