From the book of destinies. Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky was born on July 23 (10), 1915 in Lugansk into a working-class family. My childhood years were spent in a city surrounded by factories, mines, railway workshops, and narrow-gauge railways.
After graduating from a construction college, Mikhail began working at a factory. At the same time, he began publishing his poems in local newspapers and magazines, and often spoke at literary evenings, already receiving recognition.
In the early 1930s, he came to Moscow to study at the Literary Institute, attended lectures by Gudziya and Pospelov, Anikst and Isbakh, Asmus and Sokolov. I became interested in ancient Russian literature.
In 1939 MM After graduating from the institute, he entered graduate school and worked for three years on his dissertation research under the guidance of N. Gudziya, an expert in ancient Russian literature.
In the same year, 1939, he became a member of the USSR Writers' Union.
The defense of the dissertation, scheduled for June 27, 1941, did not take place - the war began, and Mikhail, having received a certificate of war correspondent, went to the front. N. Gudziy obtained permission for the defense to take place without the presence of the applicant, and Matusovsky, while at the front, received a telegram conferring on him the degree of Candidate of Philological Sciences.
Matusovsky’s poetic feuilletons and ditties, and most importantly, his songs, systematically appeared in front-line newspapers.
During the war, collections of poems were published: “Front” (1942), “When Lake Ilmen rustles” (1944); in the post-war years - collections and books of poems and songs: “Listening to Moscow” (1948), “Street of the World” (1951), “Everything that is dear to me” (1957), “Poems remain in service” (1958), “Moscow Region evenings" (1960), "How are you, Earth" (1963), "Don't forget" (1964), "The Shadow of a Man. A book of poems about Hiroshima, about its struggle and its suffering, about its people and its stones" (1968) , “It was recently, it was a long time ago” (1970), “The Essence: Poems and Poems” (1979), “ Selected works in two volumes" (1982), "Family Album" (1983) and many others.
Among the awards: orders " Patriotic War I degree", "Red Star", "October Revolution", two orders of the "Red Banner of Labor".
Mikhail Lvovich - laureate of the USSR State Prize (1977).
Composers Dunaevsky, Solovyov-Sedoy, Khrennikov, Blanter, Pakhmutova, Tsfasman, Mokrousov, Levitin, Shainsky created wonderful songs based on the words of Matusovsky. Mikhail Lvovich especially wrote a lot of songs in collaboration with Veniamin Basner.
The monument to Mikhail Matusovsky was erected in Lugansk on Red Square.
Photographer? Musician? Poet!
I gave everything to the song, it is my life, my concern,
After all, people need a song as much as a bird needs wings to fly.
In Soviet times, when distinguished guests came to Lugansk, which periodically became Voroshilovgrad, they were shown little as attractions: memorial signs associated with the Civil and Great Patriotic Wars, workplace the future Red Marshal Klim Voroshilov at the diesel locomotive plant, the mining towns of Krasnodon and Rovenki, covered in the glory of the underground organization “Young Guard”.
All this is certainly worthy of attention. But Lugansk is also the homeland of famous writers, whose names are the pride of national literature. First of all, this is the great connoisseur of words, ethnographer, humanist Vladimir Dal. And here lived the author of the first Ukrainian dictionary, Boris Grinchenko, Soviet writers Boris Gorbatov, Taras Rybas, Fyodor Volny, Pavel Besposhchadny (even the surnames have the flavor of the era), Vladislav Titov, Mikhail Plyatskovsky... And Mikhail Matusovsky, whose songs are considered folk, and this , they say, is the first sign by which an author is included in the category of “classics.”
"Bike Ride" and "Family Album"
The old center of Lugansk, like an arrow, intersects with the once most respectable and aristocratic street of St. Petersburg, which became Leninskaya in Soviet times. Once upon a time, townspeople, service people, and high school students strolled here decorously and imposingly, looking at the windows of chic shops, restaurants, and photo studios. Over time, both the street and morals became simpler, more democratic and, at the same time, provincial. The center has shifted to Sovetskaya Street.
And on Leninskaya signs old life remained only in ancient architectural decorations, long gone knowledgeable about repairs mansions. And for a very long time now the photo salon of Lev Matusovsky, which opened about a hundred years ago and was one of the most popular in the city, has not been here.
Families of indigenous Luhansk residents still keep photographs taken in this salon.
A subtle wind will blow into the heart,
and you fly, you fly headlong.
And love on film
holds his soul by the sleeve.
In front of the master’s “Zeiss” lens, “the whole city passed by - old and young, students and military, locals and visitors, married and single, tipsy and sober, fat and skinny, rushing to leave a memory of themselves on sheets of identity cards or in family albums. My father was a kind of chronicler of the city; he knew the most cherished secrets.” This is an excerpt from the autobiographical book “Family Album” by Lev Matusovsky’s youngest son, Mikhail, who could also become a photographer to the delight of his father, but became a poet to the delight of millions of readers and listeners. Yes, what!
Brick house and smoke of housing,
and the smell of wet laundry -
here is my pedigree...
Father begged for pieces
counted insults and kicks,
and I was happy when I got there
Apprentice to a photographer...
However, it could well have happened that instead of a popular poet, the world would have found an equally wonderful musician. Little Misha had the appropriate inclinations. And his parents sometimes dreamed of a crowded concert hall with luxurious chandeliers lit for the sake of their son, and of himself bowing to the audience. Misha himself tried to quickly dispel their illusions. “Although, perhaps, my musical talent died,” Matusovsky wrote in his book. But I didn’t see myself as a musician in the future: I already wrote poetry as a child...
The first poem “Bike Ride” was published in regional newspaper“Luganskaya Pravda” at the age of 12. By the way, in the same issue, on the same page, a poem by his brother was published, whose further work we do not know. And Mikhail later, having become a recognized poet, considered his poems, created in childhood, “very bad.” And he even asked for forgiveness “from the patient Lugansk readers”...
And chance helped too
How many years? After leaving school, Matusovsky wrote posters for the factory club, drew cartoons for mass circulation, and worked as a pianist in a cinema. As a student at the Voroshilovgrad (Lugansk had already been renamed by that time) construction technical school, he supervised the construction of a two-story medical building on the territory of the locomotive plant...
During the war, many factory premises were destroyed. But the building of the former medical unit still stands strong and reliable. “This is how it turns out: how many cities and villages burned, hearths and roofs collapsed, and a modest two-story house, for which one small land mine would be enough, is worth it and is worth it. If only two of my poetic lines could stand the test of time like the house of my youth!” - these are lines from the same book of memories.
The foundation of Matusovsky’s poems turned out to be no less solid than the house he built. But the time of glory is never rushed.
He would probably be a good builder, although “studying at a technical school is unbearably boring,” he wrote to friends, thinking, most likely, not about stress diagrams, but about poetic meters. And it’s good that, as usual, His Majesty Chance intervened in his fate.
Poets from the capital - Evgeny Dolmatovsky and Yaroslav Smelyakov - came to the city of Lugan for a creative meeting. A young construction technician, Matusovsky, brought a tattered notebook of his poems to the guests for judgment. And I heard from them: “There is something in you. Come study in Moscow."
Zarechnaya, heartfelt...
And now the Luhansk resident is going to conquer the capital. As he himself later said, he was traveling with a suitcase of poetry, “threatening to overwhelm the capital with his products.” Having entered the Literary Institute, he became friends with Margarita Aliger, Evgeny Dolmatovsky, and Konstantin Simonov.
Together with Simonov, after graduating from the institute, he entered graduate school at the Moscow Institute of History, Philosophy and Literature (in 1939). Konstantin Simonov, a peer and like-minded person, was one of his closest friends. We came together to provincial Lugansk for the holidays, wrote and published a joint book of stories and poems, “Lugansk”, in Moscow.
Mikhail Lvovich's master's thesis was devoted to ancient Russian literature. Her defense was scheduled for June 27, 1941. But, already on the night of the 22nd to the 23rd, the poet learned that he should immediately receive the documents of a war correspondent and go to the front! As an exception, the defense of the dissertation took place without the applicant. Already on the Western Front, he became aware of the award of the academic degree of Candidate of Philological Sciences.
Military journalist Matusovsky fought on the North-Western, 2nd Belarusian, and Western fronts of the Great Patriotic War. Among his front-line awards, to which he was nominated for courage and heroism, are the Order of the Red Star, October revolution, Patriotic War, first degree, Red Banner of Labor, medals.
In addition to front-line publications, both during the war and after it, Matusovsky wrote many lyrics on military topics. The subjects were almost always taken from life. Many of those songs have long since become classics. But the poet saw in them only timid student sketches.
I truly considered “I returned to my homeland” to be my first success, which talks about how after the end of the war the author returns to his hometown(Zarechnaya is one of the streets of old Lugansk):
I returned to my homeland. Oncoming birches rustle.
I served in a foreign land for many years without vacation.
And so I walk, as in my youth, along Zarechnaya Street,
And I don’t recognize our quiet street at all...
The music for this song was written by Mark Fradkin, the first performer was Leonid Utesov. “I was happy and proud when Leonid Utesov began to sing it... After him, I believed in the strength and capabilities of the song,” the poet wrote.
On the issue of nationality
And the fate of the song, to which he did not attach much importance, is interesting.
A lilac fog floats above us.
The midnight star is burning above the vestibule.
The conductor is in no hurry, the conductor understands
that I say goodbye to the girl forever.
For a long time it was considered a folk version of the student anthem. It was sung around the fire and at the table, at train stations and in courtyard parties. They didn’t sing it only from the stage, because its ministers labeled the song a little vulgar and even half-criminal. What to say, “It’s tinnitus time – BAM!” sounded, of course, more ideologically consistent. But even at BAM, the builders sang “Lilac Fog,” preferring it to many other hateful hits recommended for performance.
Vladimir Markin brought a good song back to the stage and to the radio air, who himself, according to him, at first did not know who was the author of the words that listeners remembered from the first time. Although Matusovsky’s style is evident here - sincere, touching, sincere.
Many people also consider the song “Moscow Nights” a folk song. And, meanwhile, her fate was completely difficult (akin to the people's). It was created for the film “We were at the Spartakiad.” The heads of the newsreel studio called the authors to Moscow to express dissatisfaction with this “sluggish lyrical song.” Who knows these critics now, who remembers their “film masterpiece”? And “Moscow Evenings” have been around for more than half a century and do not intend to lose their popularity.
The song “Where the Motherland Begins” became no less famous and beloved. By the way, he repeatedly changed the text, choosing the most accurate words, until the poems acquired the form and content that we know and love. Many works were written by Matusovsky specifically for cinema. Here are just some of “his” films: “Shield and Sword” (by the way, “Where the Motherland Begins” is from there), “Silence”, “True Friends”, “Test of Loyalty”, “Unyielding”, “Girls”, “ Sailor from the Comet...
Matusovsky's songs were performed by Leonid Utesov, Mark Bernes, Vladimir Troshin, Georg Ots, Nikolai Rybnikov, Lev Leshchenko, Muslim Magomaev, Lyudmila Senchina... the list goes on and on.
Having left his native Donbass, the poet did not forget him. The famous romance from the film “Days of the Turbins” is also dedicated to Lugansk, whose streets in May are literally filled with the heady aroma of blooming white acacia:
The nightingale whistled to us all night long,
the city was silent and the houses were silent,
White acacia fragrant clusters
drove us crazy all night long...
School for life
In the book “Family Album,” the poet dedicated many warm lines to his native school and especially to his beloved teacher of Russian language and literature, Maria Semyonovna Todorova. She taught not only to love and understand literature, but also helped her students better understand everyday situations and distinguish propaganda tinsel from the truth of life.
Times and cases
someone's faces and verbs...
Is it a school for life?
or life is just a school.
"Mysterious lines " Mtsyri " , scattering like mob on a silver scabbard, free, deceptively simple, written almost as we are talking to you, fourteen lines " Onegin " , Nekrasovsky lines " Korobeinikov " “, which, even if they weren’t set to music, would still remain a song - I heard all this for the first time from the lips of Maria Semyonovna,” Matusovsky recalled.
How much he wrote during his school years! He had a whole bag of lyrical poems, a parody of Eugene Onegin. He began a novel-trilogy in the manner of Garin-Mikhailovsky, composed a domestic comedy, and at the age of 11 began working on memoirs “about what he had lived and experienced.” But Maria Semyonovna, with whom Misha shared his creative plans and showed his works, brought him back to earth.
She did not give him useless advice, did not read boring lectures. She simply suggested reading real books, developing a taste and understanding of literature. Mikhail remembered and loved his school teacher all his life.
One of his co-authors was Isaac Dunaevsky. It was at his request that Matusovsky wrote poems-memories of his school years. But the resulting joint creativity the romance did not cause much delight for the poet. Immediately, the composer, Matusovsky recalls, placed on the music stand, instead of notes, an empty Kazbek cigarette box, on which only one line of music was inscribed. And Mikhail Lvovich first heard the sad, aching melody of the “School Waltz”.
Long time ago, cheerful friends,
We said goodbye to school,
But every year we come to our class.
Birches and maples in the garden
They greet us with bows,
And the school waltz sounds for us again.
...To the sounds of a smooth waltz
I remembered the glorious years
Favorite and sweet lands,
You with gray locks
Over our notebooks
My first teacher.
How many authors of song poems do we remember? Lebedev-Kumach, Isakovsky, Matusovsky... Many very worthy names are forgotten. But the best remain, and among them is Mikhail Matusovsky.
And although a street in his native Lugansk has not yet been named after him, a monument to him stands at the entrance to the Institute of Culture. And the literary prize of the Interregional Union of Writers, which is awarded to Ukrainian poets for achievements in Russian poetry, is called the Matusovsky Prize. But, most importantly, songs based on his poems are heard. And for a poet this is the best memory.
P.S. Just a few words about the experience of my communication (in absentia) with Mikhail Matusovsky. In the early 80s, I plucked up the impudence and sent him my then (alas, imperfect) poems to Moscow. Based on the unsuccessful result of correspondence with two Kyiv poets (they did not even respond to my letters), my expectations were pessimistic. But, I thought, it was necessary to send poems, because the desire to receive an assessment of my creations from the master was very great.
To my surprise (and joy!) the answer came quite quickly. The response is warm and delicate. I always remembered a few lines: “There is a spark of God in you. But before conquering the capital, you need to conquer Lugansk, where there are very good literary traditions.” Of course he was right. His letter helped me a lot, giving me strength and some kind of self-confidence. Thank you, Mikhail Lvovich!
Illustrations:
photographs of the poet from different years;
monument to Mikhail Matusovsky in Lugansk.
(1915-1990) Soviet poet
Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky was born in Ukraine in the city of Lugansk in the family of a photographer. In his memoirs “Family Album,” the poet ironically noted that “like in any decent, intelligent family,” they decided to teach him music. The boy's education was approached very responsibly: Mika (as the future poet was called in childhood) was sent to the best teacher in the city. But she turned out to be a supporter of the “hard” teaching system and for every mistake she hit the student on the fingers with a thick pencil.
Mikhail began studying with another teacher, and then ended up with Kushlin, where he first encountered staging plays. The skills he acquired were useful to him later when he had to work as a performer in a cinema.
When Mikhail was not yet twelve, his poems appeared in the local newspaper Luganskaya Pravda. They were very immature, but the young author was filled with vanity. Then he admitted that then his poems were typed together with the poems of his brother, who subsequently chose a different profession, becoming a specialist in transport engineering.
Mikhail Matusovsky's parents were not rich people, so after finishing the seventh grade he decided to go to a technical school and get a profession. But the plans of the future poet were not destined to come true. His father was considered a handicraftsman, declared destitute, and young Mikhail could not go anywhere. Instead of studying, he had to look for a job. He wrote posters and worked as a pianist.
An incident changed everything: a visiting photographer highly appreciated his father’s work and helped him return to his previous activities. Mikhail was finally able to start studying at a construction college, after which he got a job at a construction site. But he did not stay at this job for long. Matusovsky went to Moscow to enter the Literary Institute. Maxim Gorky. There he entered the circle of young authors, among whom were the future famous poets V. Lugovskoy and Konstantin Simonov. Together with Simonov, Matusovsky visited his native places, and again together they wrote the book “Lugansk” (1939).
In 1940, Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky published the collection “My Genealogy”, where he showed himself as a poet who keenly responds to the events of our time. After graduating from the Literary Institute in 1939, he entered graduate school.
After the start of the Great Patriotic War, Mikhail Matusovsky went to the front as a war correspondent, went through many cruel trials, but still continued to write poetry in which he talked about the heroes of the front and home front. These are the collections “Front” (1942), “Song about Aydogdy Takhirov and his friend Andrei Savushkin” (1943), “When Lake Ilmen is noisy” (1944).
After the war, the poet published the collection “Listening to Moscow” (1948), thereby paying tribute to the city in which he spent his youth. Some of the poems included in the book “Street of the World” (1951) were written under the impression of numerous trips around different countries peace.
Talking about his childhood and adolescence, Matusovsky recalled many of his teachers. He spoke especially warmly and with gratitude about his literature teacher Maria Semyonovna, with whom he wrote both poetry and prose. Later, the poet would express his gratitude in the poem “School Waltz,” the music for which was written by Isaac Dunaevsky, a famous Soviet composer. A song based on these verses was performed by M. Pakhomenko.
Dunaevsky once told Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky that between a poet and a composer there must necessarily be unanimity, a common taste, and the ability to understand each other perfectly. Therefore, when the composer and poet decided to remember their school years, the waltz form turned out to be close to both.
In the sixties, after the appearance of “School Waltz” and “Moscow Evenings”, the poet gained wide fame. Matusovsky's lyrical songs are distinguished by a special confidential intonation. Addressing his interlocutor, he creates an elegiac or ironic mood. His lyrical songs are plot-driven and figurative at the same time.
Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky always adhered to the principle that the melody sounded inside the poetic lines. He not only sought to make a single word significant, but even wanted to express the meaning through punctuation: “The song requires textbook simplicity, watercolor colors, proportionality of all parts, an organic transition from the chorus to the chorus, complete naturalness and spontaneity.”
The playful nature of the works and clearly expressed melody aroused interest in the poet’s works on the part of filmmakers. He wrote the lyrics for the films “Loyal Guys”, “Test of Loyalty”, “Unyielding”.
Matusovsky worked on songs for the films “Front without Flanks”, “Silence”, “Shield and Sword” together with V. Basner. The songs “At a Nameless Height” and “Where the Motherland Begins” became a reflection of the fate of an entire generation. The poet also worked with V. Solovyov-Sedy, Tikhon Khrennikov. With the latter, Mikhail Matusovsky wrote songs for the film “True Friends” (“Boat”, “What disturbed my heart”, “Comic Song”).
The poet also created scripts for the newsreel documentaries “Rabindranath Tagore” (1961) and “Dunaevsky’s Melodies” (1964). “Evenings near Moscow” became the hallmark of the film “In the Days of the Spartakiad”; the music for the song was written by Soloviev-Sedoy.
Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky wrote songs for a variety of films: comedy, drama, serials and short films, feature films and documentaries. He created works for various performers. He especially highlighted his work with Leonid Utesov and Mark Bernes, who were able to perfectly embody his lyrical tonality. Matusovsky's best works are distinguished by special sincerity.
"...these quiet evenings..."
Yuri Vologzhaninov 02.09.2009 12:01:22
On TV I listen to K. Shulzhenko: “...don’t frighten off the charm of these quiet evenings...”
Beautiful words and music.
I remember from evenings near Moscow: “...if you only knew how dear these quiet evenings are to me...”
Both there and there “these quiet evenings”
You might think it’s plagiarism, but no one would even think of such an accusation...
I look at Google and see that both “these quiet evenings” belong to Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky.
Thanks to him for the wonderful words and songs. Eternal memory and gratitude for the words found in his heart that transform a person into a Human.
Lines from the hot toner
ARARAT 10.01.2015 08:18:49
On January 1, 2015, I was given a unique book by Mikhail Matusovsky - Lines from a Hot Toner
Why is she unique? It’s just that there is no information about Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky’s poems about Armenia on the Internet.. Not at all.. There is nothing.. And there are no poems.. Emptiness...
I found it on the Internet just in - Contents of the magazine “Znamya” for 1985, the title - MATUSOVSKY Mikhail - Lines from hot toner, a cycle of poems. No. 3. From future book, a cycle of poems. No. 7.
AND ALL..
-
What comes of everything I said?
I have already made a scan of the book and am already starting to publish it on the internet..
ARARAT 11.01.2015 02:02:30
***
And then Tamerlane decided
The volumes darkened in the night
And the salaries sparkled on the books.
But a candle was enough
And then he straightened up and grew.
More than one palimpsest flared,
The papyrus was not the only one to smoke.
The pile of ash smoked gray.
And Timur stood, grinning,
Watching the grip of the fire.
The Armenians turned to Timur.
And the lame emir said:
“Since you are asking for protection,
You’re bringing me your gold!”
And in the name of saving books
People began to demolish carefully
Cobwebs of golden chains,
Gold embossed scabbard.
There were many horns and ladles,
And brides from thin ears
If this legend lives
Still covered in burns to this day?!
***
Mikhail Matusovsky - Khazy
-
Oh, Armenian Khazis,
A white sheet with a black sign,
Your mysterious language
Keeps scientists awake.
How can we find a scale?
What did some genius come up with?
Hiding a priceless treasure from us
Inspirational chants?
What was he in the depths of years -
They say your secret
He died with Komitas.
I could burn out a long time ago
There is burning incense at the graves.
It's worth even dying
Not everyone yet
You are inclined to open the riddle..
And what kind of computers
Do you calculate the laws?
After seven centuries already
Don't know, what a pity
Whose discerning ears
This music touched.
Oh, Armenian Khazis,
You are boldly sketched
The score of that thunderstorm,
That it passed and died down.
You are in the crevices of the mountain
Lost key to the entrance...
You are the silent worlds
Eternal music of the people.
***
Mikhail Matusovsky - My year of birth
-
Looking back over the past years,
I share my tears and troubles with you.
***
Mikhail Matusovsky - Lines from a hot toner
ARARAT 11.01.2015 02:02:59
Mikhail Matusovsky - Gosh legend
***
On a sultry evening the earth stood still,
As if collapsing under the weight of a burden.
And then Tamerlane decided
Burn the bookstores in Gosha.
The volumes darkened in the night
And the salaries sparkled on the books.
But a candle was enough
So that everything lights up as it should.
The flame began to dance in a crouch,
And then he straightened up and grew.
More than one palimpsest flared,
The papyrus was not the only one to smoke.
Sparks rained hotly through the darkness,
The pile of ash smoked gray.
And Timur stood, grinning,
Watching the grip of the fire.
And then, having gathered under the doors,
Having agreed on everything in advance:
“You can take whatever you want in exchange!” -
The Armenians turned to Timur.
And the lame emir said:
“Since you are asking for protection,
Instead of these papers, damn it
You’re bringing me your gold!”
And in the name of saving books
People began to demolish carefully
Cobwebs of golden chains,
Gold embossed scabbard.
There were many horns and ladles,
Old people kept them in the basement.
And brides from thin ears
The earrings were torn off along with the blood.
How many saved books were there?
And pages that have not lost their homes.
And then only the barbarian realized
How the Word is valued in Armenia...
If this legend lives
Like a fairy tale, like an epic -
Why is there a stone vault here?
Still covered in burns to this day?!
***
Mikhail Matusovsky - Khazy
-
Oh, Armenian Khazis,
A white sheet with a black sign,
Your mysterious language
Keeps scientists awake.
How can we find a scale?
What did some genius come up with?
Hiding a priceless treasure from us
Inspirational chants?
What was he in the depths of years -
Are we crying with strings or with a prophetic voice?
They say your secret
He died with Komitas.
I could burn out a long time ago
There is burning incense at the graves.
It's worth even dying
So that your meaning can be unraveled.
Not everyone yet
You are inclined to open the riddle..
And what kind of computers
Do you calculate the laws?
After seven centuries already
Don't know, what a pity
Whose discerning ears
This music touched.
Oh, Armenian Khazis,
You are boldly sketched
The score of that thunderstorm,
That it passed and died down.
You are in the crevices of the mountain
Lost key to the entrance...
You are the silent worlds
Eternal music of the people.
***
Mikhail Matusovsky - Lines from a hot toner
ARARAT 11.01.2015 02:04:23
Mikhail Matusovsky - My year of birth
-
At first I didn't notice the coincidence
Looking back over the past years,
Thoughtlessly I wrote in my profile,
That he was born in the fifteenth year.
I came to this promised world,
In a completely different, like coal, hard edge
In the year when the outskirts of Van were erased
Dzhevdet Bai planned to disappear from the face of the earth.
When the cross of countless calamities threatened you,
When there was a soul-piercing cry;
Confessions of wine with nails together
The executioner tore the innocent from...
And here again in Werfel’s novel
I share my tears and troubles with you.
I ask your forgiveness, Armenians,
That I was born in the fifteenth year.
***
Matusovsky Mikhail Lvovich biography and interesting facts from the life of the Soviet songwriter are presented in this article.
Matusovsky Mikhail Lvovich biography briefly
The future poet was born in 1915 in the Ukrainian city of Lugansk. The first poem was written by Mikhail at the age of 12.
Having received secondary education, he enters a construction technical school, after which he works at a factory. But deep down, Mikhail feels that labor achievements are by no means for him. He is more concerned with the poems he wrote and published in local publications.
One day, Evgeny Dolmatovsky and Yaroslav Smelyakov came to the plant where Mikhail Matusovsky worked. He showed the poets his notebook with poems. After reading it, they recommended Matusovsky to enter the Literary Institute.
Matusovsky in 1935 entered the Literary Institute named after. Gorky to the Faculty of Philology. Studying was exciting for him, giving him new life and friends. In 1939, Mikhail Lvovich was accepted as a member of the Writers' Union of the USSR.
During the Great Patriotic War, he worked as a correspondent for front-line newspapers, which published his ditties, poems and feuilletons.
After the war, the already famous poet worked fruitfully with such composers as Alexandra Pakhmutova, Veniamin Basner, Vladimir Shainsky, Tikhon Khrennikov. His texts with musical accompaniment were heard in Soviet films.
Mikhail Lvovich Matusovsky died in 1990.
Famous songs by Matusovsky- “Moscow Evenings”, “Birch Sap”, “Moscow Windows”, “At a Nameless Height” and “Old Maple”.
Mikhail Matusovsky interesting facts
Matusovsky had very poor eyesight. One day he came right up to the Germans. They wounded him in the leg and left him lying in no man's land. There was no way they could get him out. One orderly tried to crawl to the wounded man, but he was killed. The second orderly managed to pull out the wounded man. In memory of this event, he wrote the poem “In Memory of the Orderly.”
He was married to Evgenia Akimovna Matusovskaya. In 1945, the couple had a daughter, Elena, with a congenital heart defect. But the girl grew up to be a very talented child. She later became an American painting specialist. At the age of 32, she died of lung cancer. The poet had a hard time trying to measure his daughter. He and his wife adopted her child Gosha.
After graduating from a construction technical school in Lugansk, he worked at a factory. At the same time, he began publishing his poems in local newspapers and magazines. In 1939 he graduated from (MIFLI). Listened to lectures by N.K. Gudziya and G.N. Pospelov, A.A. Anikst and A.A. Isbakh, V.F. Asmus and Yu.M. Sokolov. In the same year, 1939, he became a member of the USSR Writers' Union.
After graduating from MIFLI, Matusovsky continued his postgraduate studies in the Department of Old Russian Literature, where, under the scientific supervision of N.K. Gudziya, he prepared a Ph.D. thesis on the topic “Essays on the poetic style of Old Russian military stories from the period of the Tatar invasion of Rus'.” However, the applicant did not appear for the defense of his dissertation, scheduled for June 27, 1941: the Great Patriotic War began, and he, having received the certificate of a war correspondent, was already at the front. Professor Gudziy insisted that the defense take place in the absence of the applicant. A few days later, Matusovsky, who was at the front, received a telegram conferring on him the degree of Candidate of Philological Sciences.
During the Great Patriotic War, Matusovsky worked as a war correspondent in newspapers of the Western, Northwestern, and Second Belorussian Fronts. Matusovsky’s poetic feuilletons and ditties systematically appeared in front-line newspapers. His first song, “I returned to my homeland,” created together with composer M. G. Fradkin, was performed immediately after the end of the war.
During the war, collections of poems were published: “Front” (1942), “When Lake Ilmen rustles” (1944); in the post-war years - collections and books of poems and songs: “Listening to Moscow” (1948), “Street of the World” (1951), “Everything that is dear to me” (1957), “Poems remain in service” (1958), “Moscow Region evenings" (1960), "How are you, Earth" (1963), "Don't forget" (1964), "Shadow of a man. A book of poems about Hiroshima, about its struggle and its suffering, about its people and its stones" (1968), "It was recently, it was a long time ago" (1970), "The essence: poems and poems" (1979), "Selected works in two volumes" (1982), "Family Album" (1983) and many others.
Memory
The monument to Matusovsky was erected in Lugansk on Red Square near LGAKI. The Interregional Union of Writers established a literary prize named after. Mikhail Matusovsky, intended for Russian-speaking poets.
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The poet M. L. Matusovsky is depicted on the first postage stamp of the LPR.
The main belt asteroid (2295) Matusovsky, discovered on August 19, 1977 by Soviet astronomer N. S. Chernykh at the Crimean Astrophysical Observatory, is named in honor of the poet.
Awards and prizes
- USSR State Prize in the field of literature (1977) with the wording: “for poetry of recent years”;
- two Orders of the Patriotic War, 1st degree (5.6.1945; 6.4.1985);
- Order of the Red Star (29.4.1942);
- medals.
Essays
Poetry
Popular songs based on poems by M. Matusovsky
- “And the fog falls on the meadows” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “Oh, what lightning today” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “The Ballad of a Soldier” (music by V. Solovyov-Sedogo) - Spanish. Sergey Zakharov, Eduard Khil
- “The Ballad of a Frontline Cameraman” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. German Orlov
- “Birch sap” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Leonid Bortkevich (VIA "Pesnyary")
- “There was destiny” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Galina Kovaleva, Eduard Khil, Lyubov Isaeva
- “In the days of war” (music by A. Petrov) from the film “Battalions Ask for Fire” - Spanish. Nikolay Karachentsov
- “At this festive hour” (music by I. Dunaevsky) - Spanish. Lyubov Kazarnovskaya
- “I returned to my homeland” (music by M. Fradkin) - Spanish. Yuri Bogatikov
- “Waltz Evening” (music by I. Dunaevsky) - Spanish. Georgy Vinogradov
- “It’s fun to walk together” (music by V. Shainsky) - Spanish. Big Children's Choir of Gosteleradio conducted by Viktor Popov
- “Vologda” (music by B. Mokrousov) - best known performed by Anatoly Kasheparov (VIA “Pesnyary”, 1976). Written in 1956, the first performer was Vladimir Nechaev, later transferred by the authors for the play “White Clouds” (Maly Theatre, director E. R. Simonov, performer - Mikhail Novokhizhin)
- “Truck - front-line soldier” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Lev Barashkov
- “Road Song” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “And only because of this we will win” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Joseph Kobzon, Eduard Khil
- “A man in love is walking” (music by O. Feltsman) - Spanish. Georg Ots
- “The working class is coming” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Academic Big Choir of State Television and Radio
- From the film Test of Loyalty (music by I. Dunaevsky)
- “What, tell me, is your name” (1974) (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “Cruiser “Aurora”” (music by V. Shainsky) from the film “Aurora” (dir. R. Kachanov) - Spanish. Big Children's Choir of Gosteleradio conducted by Viktor Popov
- “Tic Tac Toe” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Taisiya Kalinchenko and Eduard Khil
- “Fly, pigeons, fly...” (music by I. Dunaevsky) - Spanish. Big Children's Choir of Gosteleradio
- “Boat” (music by T. Khrennikova) - Spanish. Valentina Tolkunova
- “We wave without looking” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Vitaly Kopylov
- “I was reminded again” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Pavel Kravetsky
- “Moscow Windows” (music by T. Khrennikov) - Spanish. Joseph Kobzon
- “My native land” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Pavel Kravetsky
- “We are children of the wartime” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Children's Choir of Leningrad Radio and TV
- “At a nameless height” (to the music of Veniamin Basner) from the film “Silence” (dir. V. Basov) - Spanish. Yuri Gulyaev, Lev Barashkov, Yuri Bogatikov, Eduard Khil.
- “Don’t look for lilies of the valley in the month of April” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Lyudmila Senchina
- “The Unforgotten Song” (music by M. Blanter) - Spanish. Yuri Gulyaev, Alibek Dnishev
- “Night behind the wall” (music by V. Basner) from the film “Return to Life”
- “Why are you indifferent to me” (music by V. Shainsky) from the film “And Again Aniskin” - Spanish. Andrey Mironov
- “About the dear “Ball”” (music by S. Katz) - Spanish. Victor Selivanov
- “One on One” (music by V. Basner) from the film “3% Risk” - Spanish. Alexander Khochinsky
- “Song about the beep” (music by E. Kolmanovsky)
- “Song of Friendship” or “True Friends” (music by T. Khrennikov) from the film “True Friends” - Spanish. Alexander Borisov, Vasily Merkuryev and Boris Chirkov
- "Song of the Park"
- “A pilot can’t help but fly” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “Write to us, girlfriends” (music by I. Dunaevsky) - Spanish. M. Kiselev
- “Border Outpost” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Eduard Khil
- “Moscow Evenings” (to the music of Vasily Solovyov-Sedoy) - Spanish. Vladimir Troshin
- “Call Signs” (music by V. Shainsky) from the film “And Again Aniskin” - Spanish. Joseph Kobzon
- “Kulikovo Field” (music by T. Khrennikov) - Spanish. Joseph Kobzon
- “Assignment” (music by I. Dunaevsky)
- “Farewell, pigeons” (music by M. Fradkin) - Spanish. V. Tolkunova and the group BDH Gosteleradio
- “Romance of Lapin” or “Why is the heart so disturbed” (music by T. Khrennikov) from the film “True Friends” - Spanish. Alexander Borisov
- “Where the Motherland Begins” (music by V. Basner) from the film “Shield and Sword” (dir. V. Basov) - Spanish. Mark Bernes
- “Lilac fog” (music by Y. Sashin) - Spanish. Vladimir Markin
- “Starlings have arrived” (music by I. Dunaevsky)
- “A soldier is always a soldier” (music by V. Solovyov-Sedogo) - Spanish. Red Banner Ensemble named after. Alexandrova
- “Old Maple” (music by A. Pakhmutova) from the film “Girls” - Spanish. Lucyena Ovchinnikova and Nikolai Pogodin, Alla Abdalova and Lev Leshchenko, Irina Brzhevskaya and Joseph Kobzon
- “That river where you were born” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Lyudmila Senchina and Eduard Khil
- “Tango” or “Do you have talent” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Andrey Mironov
- “You and I” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Valentina Tolkunova and Leonid Serebrennikov
- “Good Girls” (music by A. Pakhmutova) from the film “Girls”
- “The nightingale whistled to us all night” (music by V. Basner) from the film “Days of the Turbins” - Spanish. Lyudmila Senchina
- “My Black Sea” (“...The bluest in the world, My Black Sea...”) (music by O. Feltsman) - Spanish. Georg Ots
- “School Waltz” (“Long time ago, cheerful friends, we said goodbye to school...”) (music by I. Dunaevsky) - Spanish. V. Bunchikov, M. Pakhomenko
- “It Was Recently” (music by V. Basner) - Spanish. Oleg Anofriev
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Notes
Literature
- Khozieva S.I. Russian writers and poets: Brief biographical dictionary. - M.: Ripol Classic, 2002. - 576 p. - ISBN 5-7905-1200-3.
Links
- Matusovsky Mikhail Lvovich- article from the Great Soviet Encyclopedia.
- Online
- Marina Volkova, Vladislav Kulikov.
An excerpt characterizing Matusovsky, Mikhail Lvovich
“Our people retreated again.” They say it’s already near Smolensk,” Pierre answered.- My God, my God! - said the count. -Where is the manifesto?
- Appeal! Oh yes! - Pierre began to look in his pockets for papers and could not find them. Continuing to pat his pockets, he kissed the hand of the countess as she entered and looked around restlessly, apparently waiting for Natasha, who was no longer singing, but also did not come into the living room.
“By God, I don’t know where I put him,” he said.
“Well, he’ll always lose everything,” said the countess. Natasha came in with a softened, excited face and sat down, silently looking at Pierre. As soon as she entered the room, Pierre's face, previously gloomy, lit up, and he, continuing to look for papers, glanced at her several times.
- By God, I’ll move out, I forgot at home. Definitely...
- Well, you'll be late for lunch.
- Oh, and the coachman left.
But Sonya, who went into the hallway to look for the papers, found them in Pierre’s hat, where he carefully placed them in the lining. Pierre wanted to read.
“No, after dinner,” said the old count, apparently anticipating great pleasure in this reading.
At dinner, during which they drank champagne to the health of the new Knight of St. George, Shinshin told city news about the illness of the old Georgian princess, that Metivier had disappeared from Moscow, and that some German was brought to Rostopchin and told him that it was a champignon (as Count Rastopchin himself told), and how Count Rostopchin ordered the champignon to be released, telling the people that it was not a champignon, but just an old German mushroom.
“They’re grabbing, they’re grabbing,” said the count, “I tell the countess to speak less French.” Now is not the time.
-Have you heard? - said Shinshin. - Prince Golitsyn took a Russian teacher, he studies in Russian - il commence a devenir dangereux de parler francais dans les rues. [It becomes dangerous to speak French on the streets.]
- Well, Count Pyotr Kirilych, how will they gather the militia, and you will have to mount a horse? - said the old count, turning to Pierre.
Pierre was silent and thoughtful throughout this dinner. He looked at the count as if not understanding at this address.
“Yes, yes, to war,” he said, “no!” What a warrior I am! But everything is so strange, so strange! Yes, I don’t understand it myself. I don’t know, I’m so far from military tastes, but in modern times no one can answer for themselves.
After dinner, the count sat quietly in a chair and with a serious face asked Sonya, famous for her reading skills, to read.
– “To our mother-throne capital, Moscow.
The enemy entered Russia with great forces. He is coming to ruin our dear fatherland,” Sonya diligently read in her thin voice. The Count, closing his eyes, listened, sighing impulsively in some places.
Natasha sat stretched out, searchingly and directly looking first at her father, then at Pierre.
Pierre felt her gaze on him and tried not to look back. The Countess shook her head disapprovingly and angrily against every solemn expression of the manifesto. She saw in all these words only that the dangers threatening her son would not end soon. Shinshin, folding his mouth into a mocking smile, was obviously preparing to mock the first thing presented for ridicule: Sonya’s reading, what the count would say, even the appeal itself, if no better excuse presented itself.
Having read about the dangers threatening Russia, about the hopes placed by the sovereign on Moscow, and especially on the famous nobility, Sonya, with a trembling voice that came mainly from the attention with which they listened to her, read the last words: “We will not hesitate to stand among our people.” in this capital and in other places of our state for consultation and guidance of all our militias, both now blocking the paths of the enemy, and again organized to defeat him, wherever he appears. May the destruction into which he imagines throwing us fall upon his head, and may Europe, liberated from slavery, exalt the name of Russia!”
- That's it! - the count cried, opening his wet eyes and stopping several times from sniffling, as if a bottle of strong vinegar salt was being brought to his nose. “Just tell me, sir, we will sacrifice everything and regret nothing.”
Shinshin had not yet had time to tell the joke he had prepared for the count’s patriotism, when Natasha jumped up from her seat and ran up to her father.
- What a charm, this dad! - she said, kissing him, and she again looked at Pierre with that unconscious coquetry that returned to her along with her animation.
- So patriotic! - said Shinshin.
“Not a patriot at all, but just...” Natasha answered offendedly. - Everything is funny to you, but this is not a joke at all...
- What jokes! - repeated the count. - Just say the word, we’ll all go... We’re not some kind of Germans...
“Did you notice,” said Pierre, “that it said: “for a meeting.”
- Well, whatever it is for...
At this time, Petya, to whom no one was paying attention, approached his father and, all red, in a breaking, sometimes rough, sometimes thin voice, said:
“Well, now, papa, I will decisively say - and mummy too, as you wish - I will decisively say that you will let me in.” military service, because I can't... that's all...
The Countess raised her eyes to the sky in horror, clasped her hands and angrily turned to her husband.
- So I agreed! - she said.
But the count immediately recovered from his excitement.
“Well, well,” he said. - Here’s another warrior! Stop the nonsense: you need to study.
- This is not nonsense, daddy. Fedya Obolensky is younger than me and is also coming, and most importantly, I still can’t learn anything now that ... - Petya stopped, blushed until he sweated and said: - when the fatherland is in danger.
- Complete, complete, nonsense...
- But you yourself said that we would sacrifice everything.
“Petya, I’m telling you, shut up,” the count shouted, looking back at his wife, who, turning pale, looked with fixed eyes at her youngest son.
- And I’m telling you. So Pyotr Kirillovich will say...
“I’m telling you, it’s nonsense, the milk hasn’t dried yet, but he wants to go into military service!” Well, well, I’m telling you,” and the count, taking the papers with him, probably to read them again in the office before resting, left the room.
- Pyotr Kirillovich, well, let’s go have a smoke...
Pierre was confused and indecisive. Natasha's unusually bright and animated eyes, constantly looking at him more than affectionately, brought him into this state.
- No, I think I’ll go home...
- It’s like going home, but you wanted to spend the evening with us... And then you rarely came. And this one of mine...” the count said good-naturedly, pointing at Natasha, “she’s only cheerful when she’s with you...”
“Yes, I forgot... I definitely need to go home... Things to do...” Pierre said hastily.
“Well, goodbye,” said the count, completely leaving the room.
- Why are you leaving? Why are you upset? Why?..” Natasha asked Pierre, looking defiantly into his eyes.
“Because I love you! - he wanted to say, but he didn’t say it, he blushed until he cried and lowered his eyes.
- Because it’s better for me to visit you less often... Because... no, I just have business.
- From what? no, tell me,” Natasha began decisively and suddenly fell silent. They both looked at each other in fear and confusion. He tried to grin, but could not: his smile expressed suffering, and he silently kissed her hand and left.
Pierre decided not to visit the Rostovs with himself anymore.
Petya, after receiving a decisive refusal, went to his room and there, locking himself away from everyone, wept bitterly. They did everything as if they had not noticed anything, when he came to tea, silent and gloomy, with tear-stained eyes.
The next day the sovereign arrived. Several of the Rostov courtyards asked to go and see the Tsar. That morning Petya took a long time to get dressed, comb his hair and arrange his collars like the big ones. He frowned in front of the mirror, made gestures, shrugged his shoulders and, finally, without telling anyone, put on his cap and left the house from the back porch, trying not to be noticed. Petya decided to go straight to the place where the sovereign was and directly explain to some chamberlain (it seemed to Petya that the sovereign was always surrounded by chamberlains) that he, Count Rostov, despite his youth, wanted to serve the fatherland, that youth could not be an obstacle for devotion and that he is ready... Petya, while he was getting ready, prepared many wonderful words that he would say to the chamberlain.
Petya counted on the success of his presentation to the sovereign precisely because he was a child (Petya even thought how everyone would be surprised at his youth), and at the same time, in the design of his collars, in his hairstyle and in his sedate, slow gait, he wanted to present himself as an old man. But the further he went, the more he was amused by the people coming and going at the Kremlin, the more he forgot to observe the sedateness and slowness characteristic of adult people. Approaching the Kremlin, he already began to take care that he would not be pushed in, and resolutely, with a threatening look, put his elbows out to his sides. But at the Trinity Gate, despite all his determination, people who probably did not know for what patriotic purpose he was going to the Kremlin, pressed him so hard against the wall that he had to submit and stop until the gate with a buzzing sound under the arches the sound of carriages passing by. Near Petya stood a woman with a footman, two merchants and a retired soldier. After standing at the gate for some time, Petya, without waiting for all the carriages to pass, wanted to move on ahead of the others and began to decisively work with his elbows; but the woman standing opposite him, at whom he first pointed his elbows, angrily shouted at him:
- What, barchuk, you are pushing, you see - everyone is standing. Why climb then!
“So everyone will climb in,” said the footman and, also starting to work with his elbows, he squeezed Petya into the stinking corner of the gate.
Petya wiped the sweat that covered his face with his hands and straightened his sweat-soaked collars, which he had arranged so well at home, like the big ones.
Petya felt that he had an unpresentable appearance, and was afraid that if he presented himself like that to the chamberlains, he would not be allowed to see the sovereign. But there was no way to recover and move to another place due to the cramped conditions. One of the passing generals was an acquaintance of the Rostovs. Petya wanted to ask for his help, but thought that it would be contrary to courage. When all the carriages had passed, the crowd surged and carried Petya out to the square, which was completely occupied by people. Not only in the area, but on the slopes, on the roofs, there were people everywhere. As soon as Petya found himself in the square, he clearly heard the sounds of bells and joyful folk talk filling the entire Kremlin.
At one time the square was more spacious, but suddenly all their heads opened, everything rushed forward somewhere else. Petya was squeezed so that he could not breathe, and everyone shouted: “Hurray! Hurray! hurray! Petya stood on tiptoes, pushed, pinched, but could not see anything except the people around him.
There was one common expression of tenderness and delight on all faces. One merchant's wife, standing next to Petya, was sobbing, and tears flowed from her eyes.
- Father, angel, father! – she said, wiping away tears with her finger.
- Hooray! - they shouted from all sides. For a minute the crowd stood in one place; but then she rushed forward again.
Petya, not remembering himself, clenched his teeth and brutally rolled his eyes, rushed forward, working with his elbows and shouting “Hurray!”, as if he was ready to kill himself and everyone at that moment, but exactly the same brutal faces climbed from his sides with the same shouts of “Hurray!”
“So this is what a sovereign is! - thought Petya. “No, I can’t submit a petition to him myself, it’s too bold!” Despite this, he still desperately made his way forward, and from behind the backs of those in front he glimpsed an empty space with a passage covered with red cloth; but at that time the crowd wavered back (in front the police were pushing away those who were advancing too close to the procession; the sovereign was passing from the palace to the Assumption Cathedral), and Petya unexpectedly received such a blow to the side in the ribs and was so crushed that suddenly everything in his eyes became blurred and he lost consciousness. When he came to his senses, some clergyman, with a tuft of graying hair back, in a shabby blue cassock, probably a sexton, held him under his arm with one hand, and with the other protected him from the pressing crowd.
- The youngster was run over! - said the sexton. - Well, that’s it!.. it’s easier... crushed, crushed!
The Emperor went to the Assumption Cathedral. The crowd smoothed out again, and the sexton led Petya, pale and not breathing, to the Tsar’s cannon. Several people took pity on Petya, and suddenly the whole crowd turned to him, and a stampede began around him. Those who stood closer served him, unbuttoned his frock coat, placed a gun on the dais and reproached someone - those who crushed him.
“You can crush him to death this way.” What is this! To do murder! “Look, cordial, he’s become white as a tablecloth,” said the voices.
Petya soon came to his senses, the color returned to his face, the pain went away, and for this temporary trouble he received a place on the cannon, from which he hoped to see the sovereign who was about to return. Petya no longer thought about submitting a petition. If only he could see him, he would consider himself happy!
During the service in the Assumption Cathedral - a combined prayer service on the occasion of the arrival of the sovereign and thanksgiving prayer for concluding peace with the Turks - the crowd spread; Shouting sellers of kvass, gingerbread, and poppy seeds appeared, which Petya was especially keen on, and ordinary conversations could be heard. One merchant's wife showed her torn shawl and said how expensive it was bought; another said that nowadays all silk fabrics have become expensive. The sexton, Petya’s savior, was talking with the official about who and who was serving with the Reverend today. The sexton repeated the word soborne several times, which Petya did not understand. Two young tradesmen joked with the courtyard girls gnawing nuts. All these conversations, especially jokes with girls, which had a special attraction for Petya at his age, all these conversations did not interest Petya now; ou sat on his gun dais, still worried at the thought of the sovereign and his love for him. The coincidence of the feeling of pain and fear when he was squeezed with a feeling of delight further strengthened in him the awareness of the importance of this moment.
Suddenly, cannon shots were heard from the embankment (they were firing to commemorate peace with the Turks), and the crowd quickly rushed to the embankment to watch them shoot. Petya also wanted to run there, but the sexton, who had taken the little bark under his protection, did not let him in. The shots still continued when officers, generals, and chamberlains ran out of the Assumption Cathedral, then others came out not so hastily, the caps were taken off their heads again, and those who had run away to look at the cannons ran back. Finally, four more men in uniforms and ribbons emerged from the cathedral doors. "Hooray! Hooray! – the crowd shouted again.
