Текст на английском про Пушкина

Alexander Pushkin is a famous Russian poet. People in Russia love his poems.

Pushkin was born in Moscow in 1799. He was a clever boy. He liked reading books.

Pushkin wrote a lot of fairy tales. Children like 'The Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish'. There is a golden fish in it.

His nanny was Arina Rodionovna. She told him Russian stories. Pushkin loved her very much.

There is a Pushkin Museum in Moscow. There are many streets with his name in Russia.

In 1811 a new school opened in Tsarskoye Selo, near Saint Petersburg. It was called the Lyceum, and only thirty boys studied there in the first year. One of them was twelve-year-old Alexander Pushkin.

Pushkin wasn't the best student in maths, but he was the most talented poet in his class. His friends called him 'the Frenchman', because he spoke French better than Russian when he was a child.

In 1815 there was an exam at the Lyceum. The old poet Gavrila Derzhavin came to listen to the students. When young Pushkin read his poem, Derzhavin was very happy and surprised.

Pushkin always remembered his school friends. Every year on 19 October, the day when the Lyceum opened, he wrote poems for them.

Last year our class went to Tsarskoye Selo. We saw Pushkin's room. It was very small, but I was really excited to be there.

Alexander Pushkin, who is often called the founder of modern Russian literature, was born in Moscow on 6 June 1799. His family was an old noble one, and his great-grandfather on his mother's side was Abram Gannibal, an African who was brought to Russia as a boy and became a general under Peter the Great.

After leaving the Lyceum, Pushkin worked in Saint Petersburg and quickly became famous. However, some of his poems were considered too bold, and he was sent away from the capital. He spent several years in the south of Russia and later at his family estate of Mikhailovskoye, where his old nanny Arina Rodionovna lived with him.

Pushkin wrote in many genres. His novel in verse 'Eugene Onegin' is studied in every Russian school, and his fairy tales, such as 'The Tale of Tsar Saltan', have been loved by children for almost two hundred years. He also wrote prose, including the historical novel 'The Captain's Daughter'.

His life ended tragically. In 1837 he was badly wounded in a duel with the French officer Georges d'Anthès and died two days later. He was only thirty-seven.

Although Pushkin lived a short life, his influence on the Russian language has been enormous. His birthday, 6 June, is now celebrated as Russian Language Day.

Every Russian child meets Pushkin long before learning to read. Lines from his fairy tales are recited in kindergartens, quoted by grandparents and repeated so often that they seem to belong to folklore rather than to a particular author. This familiarity, however, carries a certain risk: a writer who is everywhere can easily become a monument rather than a living voice.

To understand why Pushkin matters, it helps to remember the situation he found. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, educated Russians often spoke French at home, and written Russian was either heavy and solemn or simply clumsy. Pushkin combined the elegance of European literature with the vivid speech of ordinary people, much of which he had absorbed from his nanny's stories. In doing so, he created a language that still sounds natural two centuries later.

His range is equally striking. Within a few months in the autumn of 1830, while stuck at his estate in Boldino because of a cholera epidemic, he completed the last chapters of 'Eugene Onegin', wrote short stories, several plays and dozens of poems. Rarely has a period of forced isolation proved so productive.

Translators, it must be admitted, have always struggled with him. Much of his charm lies in rhythm and sound, which inevitably get lost when the words are changed. This may explain why Pushkin is less widely known abroad than Tolstoy or Dostoevsky, whose ideas travel more easily between languages.

In my opinion, the best way to rediscover Pushkin is to read him again as an adult, without the pressure of school exams. Had I not reopened 'Eugene Onegin' last summer, I would never have noticed how ironic, modern and surprisingly funny it is.