Who is Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov

Nikolay Alexeyevich Nekrasov (Russian: Никола́й Алексе́евич Некра́сов, IPA: [nʲɪkɐˈlaj ɐlʲɪkˈsʲejɪvʲɪtɕ nʲɪˈkrasəf] (listen), 10 December [O.S. 28 November] 1821 – 8 January 1878 [O.S. 27 December 1877]) was a Russian poet, writer, critic and publisher, whose deeply compassionate poems about peasant Russia made him the hero of liberal and radical circles of Russian intelligentsia, as represented by Vissarion Belinsky, Nikolay Chernyshevsky and Fyodor Dostoyevsky. He is credited with introducing into Russian poetry ternary meters and the technique of dramatic monologue (On the Road, 1845). As the editor of several literary journals, notably Sovremennik, Nekrasov was also singularly successful and influential.

Biography

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Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov Poems

  • Freedom
    Oft through my native land I roved before,
    But never such a cheerful spirit bore.

    When on its mother's breast a child I spy-- ...
  • The Songs Of Siberian Exiles
    We stand unbroken in our places,
    Our shovels dare to take no rest,
    For not in vain his golden treasure
    God buried deep in earth's dark breast. ...
  • What The Sleepless Grandam Thinks
    All through the cold night, beating wings shadowy
    Sweep o'er the church-village poor,--
    Only one Grandam a hundred years hoary,
    Findeth her slumber no more. ...
  • The Love Letter
    Letter of love so strangely thrilling
    With all your countless wonder yet,
    Though Time our heart's hot fires have mastered,
    Bringing a pang of pained regret! ...
  • A Farewell
    Farewell! Forget the days of trial,
    Of grudge, ill humor, misery--
    Tempests of heart and floods of weeping,
    And the revengeful jealousy. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov

Heart 9 Soul 5 Never 4 Death 4 Time 4 I Love You 3 Child 3 Good 3 God 3 Love 3


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pierre: what is the best poem of Nekrasov

Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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