The main theme of the issue is poems about the Motherland of Russian poets.
There is no doubt that poems about native land, native nature or about the place where you and I were born and raised will be of great interest to every citizen of our great country Russia.
On this page we invite you to familiarize yourself with wonderful poems about the Motherland, Rus', Russia written by great Russian poets of different eras, enjoy reading and love Russia:
He established a friendship with Juozas Naujalis, who continued with his life. Release of the poem allowed Among the pains of honors and perhaps the voices of Spring, where is the salvation? St. Petersburg: between the Theological Academy and Lithuanian society. His concern and initiative at the Academy is the creation of the Department of Sociology. Raseiniskiu, to whom the poem “Poetry” belongs. In Lithuania: further academic and spiritual career.
Intensive work was carried out: writing poetry, poetry, later drama, preparing new publications for previous works. Kauna, buried in the cathedral crypt. Collection "Spring Voices". Literary history and criticism: “ Short review Lithuanian literature", " Short story universal literature"; Remembering Simonas Daukantas, he wrote popular history"Stories about the Lithuanian path." He also wrote a number of publications on theology and theology.
The poem is “Rus”.
I am weaving a wreath for you alone,
I sprinkle flowers on the gray stitch.
O Rus', peaceful corner,
I love you, I believe in you.
I look into the vastness of your fields,
You are all - distant and close.
The whistling of cranes is akin to me
And the slimy path is no stranger.
The swamp font is blooming,
Kuga calls for a long vespers,
And drops ring through the bushes
The dew is cold and healing.
And even though your fog clears away
The stream of winds blowing with wings,
But all of you are myrrh and Lebanon
Magi, secretly doing magic.
Mius, Suliya Priudom, poetry of Bilkhanas, hymns of the Rigveda. Where the fields, dark forests are buried, the Lithuanian whip smokes; Wedding axes, Cavalry sharp and horse balm. From the Prussians, like wings of clouds, smoke rises into the sky; This is fiery fire. Daylight: flames and roses, as well as palaces.
Among the pure ones are wide ones that do not kill animals; Oh no! This is the widow of the Lithuanians: are they crying for their son, or are you useless, otherwise they will not be lost when they die? Crusaders for a long time were battered by the guests. Visitors via Lithuania are attracted; Thirst for honor when dawn comes, of those who don't want it at all.
Poem - “Go you, Rus', my dear...”
Goy, Rus', my dear,
The huts are in the robes of the image...
No end in sight -
Only blue sucks his eyes.
Like a visiting pilgrim,
I'm looking at your fields.
And at the low outskirts
The poplars are dying loudly.
Lithuanians flock to Kauna through the Nemuna when they say reconnaissance; Villagers scream in battle, Lithuanians scream. Only fires swept across Lithuania. Eclipse of the sky Mighty dense lightning; Disappointment of guests. Cloudy night To show you the cries; Only hundreds of bodies, taken strange, rest for a long, long time.
Love for your barns by the stubble
Now it's a terrible night, and it's not crazy! Even men are catching up with the pattern: To be old Cossack giants, and sometimes even to fall out. During Russian modernism, the so-called silver Age, poets - symbols, acmeists, futurists - occupied positions at the forefront of public debate about contemporary art. In Russia, these processes were interrupted by Stalin's totalitarianism. IN Soviet times most interesting processes have occurred in the self-learning literature. However, when they relaxed the regime in the Soviet Union, poets again found themselves at the center of cultural and public life, if you can call them that: in the seventies, the voices of the "official rebels" rushed from orators to offshore stadiums.
Smells like apple and honey
Through the churches, your meek Savior.
And it buzzes behind the bush
There is a merry dance in the meadows.
I'll run along the crumpled stitch
Free green forests,
Towards me, like earrings,
A girl's laughter will ring out.
If the holy army shouts:
“Throw away Rus', live in paradise!”
I will say: “There is no need for heaven,
Give me my homeland."
By the way, the opposition intelligentsia also believed that a poet could be the people's conscience and voice. And the poet was considered of national importance in Soviet times, perhaps due to hero cult as totalitarian propaganda. Today some literary critics angry: there is no censorship in Russia, but where did the poems disappear? Others say: yes good poets, market shortage. After the publication of the first books, the authors became the center of public attention and controversy. The field of influence has also changed: European models greatest influence for poetry Russian gold and silver.
Poem - “Oh, I believe, I believe, there is happiness!..”.
Oh, I believe, I believe, there is happiness!
The sun hasn't gone out yet.
Dawn with a red prayer book
Prophesies good news.
Oh, I believe, I believe, there is happiness.
Ring, ring, golden Rus',
Worry, restless wind!
Blessed is he who celebrates with joy
Your shepherd's sadness.
Ring, ring, golden Rus'.
Modern Russian poetry is in the gravitational field of American poetry. Poets are looking for their place in the realm of inertial and defensive Russian culture and often take extreme positions, for example, Kirill Medvedev stopped the game completely: he banned the publication of his work and the waiver of intellectual property rights. And Dmitry Vodenikov, with the help of his hands, receives institutional support to restore the hero-hero paradigm and publish his poems in brilliant magazines. Vodenikov's website could be the first step in restoring the poet's celebrity status.
I love the murmur of wild waters
And on the wave of the star shine.
Blessed suffering
Blessing people.
I love the murmur of wild waters.
Poem - “To the Fatherland”
The sons of the fatherland swear!
And heaven hears their oath!
Oh, how their hearts beat so hard!
It is not the blood that flows, but the fire in them.
You, holy fatherland,
To love you, to serve you -
This is our direct title!
We buy our lives
Your prosperity is ready.
Death for you is bliss,
And death is immortality for us!
Let us not shudder in the terrible hour
Among the swords on the battlefield,
We will call on you as God,
And the enemy will never see the sun again
Or we, slain, will fall -
And our death will be blessed!
The sleep of eternity will cover us;
When we breathe our last breath,
This sigh is dedicated to you!..
The most interesting poets, however, are those who are not overwhelmed by the memory of the role of the poet-prophet who has dominated Russian literature over the past few hundred years. The Internet has become the main source of poetry in Russia for various socio-economic reasons.
Most of the authors in Lately publish their books and individual poems on the Internet for free. Poetry is cognitive activity, extraction of new meanings, process of truth. When evaluating a poet, we first try to understand whether there is significant profit in his work. The main current Bronze Age Russian poetry is big flow post-communism, flowing between the lines of conceptualism and metaphoricalism. The most famous Russian poets, following the traditions of Anna Akhmatova and Osip Mandelstam, cultivate the traditional concept of lyrical thinking as a deeply philosophical person and his place in the world.
Poem - “Motherland”
I love my fatherland, but with a strange love!
My reason will not defeat her.
Nor glory bought with blood,
Neither complete proud trust peace,
Neither dark antiquity cherished legends
No joyful dreams stir within me.
But I love - for what, I don’t know myself -
Went from Paris to Yelets
They remained faithful to the classical prose of Russians, they write romantic sibabot series. Very simply, we can talk about two main groups of authors: Moscow time- Bachica Kenyaev and Sergey Gandlevsky, as well as various departments Leningrad school- Joseph Brodsky, Evgeny Ryn, Alexander Kushner; younger generation - Viktor Krivulin, Elena Schwartz; even the younger ones - Oleg Yuryev, Valery Shubinsky and others. Magazines can be said to mainly produce such poetry.
Sometimes one gets the impression that this most developed area of Russian poetry is no longer fruitful, but recent books by Maria Stepanova and Arseniy Rovinsky raise this doubt: after achieving poetry, these authors became direct followers of the tradition of Viktor Krivulin. Only Dmitry Prigov developed the paradigm of conceptualism until his death, increasingly focusing on this word as such criticism, regardless of the sociocultural or discursive field to which it belongs.
Its steppes are coldly silent,
Her boundless forests sway,
The floods of its rivers are like seas;
On a country road I like to ride in a cart
And, with a slow gaze piercing the shadow of the night,
Meet on the sides, sighing for an overnight stay,
The trembling lights of sad villages;
I love the smoke of burnt stubble,
A convoy spending the night in the steppe
And on a hill in the middle of a yellow field
A couple of white birches.
With joy unknown to many,
I see a complete threshing floor
A hut covered with straw
Window with carved shutters;
And on a holiday, on a dewy evening,
Ready to watch until midnight
To dance with stomping and whistling
Under the talk of drunken men.
A locksmith goes out into the yard in winter. Just look - it's spring in the yard. Just like he is now. The schoolboy left, now this is a message from the mechanic. Even more fun - more more death. But first of all, old age gets older. And even higher. At first it is a mechanic, just like before.
The existential problem in this verse by Dmitry Prigov collides with the vulgar Soviet sociology, defining each person primarily in accordance with his social status and the nature of his activities. On the eve of the second millennium, several young buyers declared themselves as conceptual followers. Critics called this movement post-conceptualism. Post-conceptualists attempted to use conceptual methods to construct lyrical discourse. The main concern about post-conceptualism is: how to express oneself truly after conceptualism proves that this is impossible?
Poem - "Motherland".
Can you hear the song of the stream?
This is your homeland.
Do you hear the nightingale's voice?
This is your homeland.
Your mother's hands
The sound of rain and the noise of branches,
And there are currants in the forest -
This is also my homeland.
In some texts by Dmitry Vodenikov and Kirill Medvedev, the key to authentic lyrical discourse is the extreme rejection of individuality, indistinguishable language and images, because only that which is completely independent can be taken away. The post-conceptualists - Danilas Davydovas, Dmitry Sokolov - were impressive achievements, but this stream was quickly exhausted: some authors were silenced, others began to write differently. The artistic problems of the post-conceptualists, together with their methods, ceased to belong to one group and became part of the cultural baggage of different poets.
Poem - “I’m not afraid of getting lost!”
I'm not afraid of getting lost
Flying like a speck of dust through the centuries.
You give me so much strength, Rus'!
Either with a carrot or with a whip.
I was pain and melancholy
By your humility and battle.
Open your tender embraces
And I will become your prayer.
Becomes one of the founders of symbolism in Russian literature
The Age of Silver, an event that has no strangeness, but futurism. Almost all the authors who were most interested in the ideas of a futuristic synthesis of art and logocentrism gave up and turned to visual poetry, sound poetry, and performance. The balance was balanced by Dmitry Avalian, thanks to whom the palindrome, anagram and several other types of experimental writing became full-fledged forms of Russian poetry. The latter expanded the prospects of Russian futurism using European avant-garde experience and folklore.
I don't swear my love to you.
You are my source of inspiration.
You are my trembling sadness,
My story of oblivion.
Poem (song) - “Where does the Motherland begin?”
Where does the Motherland begin?
From the picture in your ABC book,
From good and faithful comrades,
Living in the neighboring yard.
Or maybe it's starting
From the song that our mother sang to us,
Since in any test
No one can take it away from us.
Aigi is a direct heir to the Central Russian figurative futurism of Velimir Khlebnikov. Among other trends in modern Russian poetry, with some reservations, one could distinguish an author whose poetic sources lie outside the boundaries of the national Russian tradition. Meta-realists: Arkady Dragomoshchenkay, Vladimir Aristov and Aleksey Parshchikov were largely influenced by the American language school; The post-conceptual Medvedev's work was supported by the poetry of Charles Bukowski.
The above-mentioned author refers not only to the fact that they choose not a rhythmic metrical queue, but verbibra, which in Russia is still considered a sign of Western cultural references. Authors who write about the white ranks in Russia still believe that they are a discriminatory minority. In the same way, they agreed to mobilize, introduced themselves to the subgroup, but were not accepted. The only way out is to release a dedicated work.
Where does the Motherland begin?
From the treasured bench at the gate,
From that very birch tree in the field,
Bowing in the wind, it grows.
Or maybe it's starting
From the spring song of a starling
And from this country road,
Which has no end in sight.
Where does the Motherland begin?
From the windows burning in the distance.
From my father's old budenovka,
What we found somewhere in the closet.
Or maybe it's starting
From the sound of carriage wheels
And the oath that in my youth
You brought her in your heart...
Where does the Motherland begin?...
The desecrated butterfly rusts away from its neighbors. Once you arrive, you must go straight to the raccoon. Clouds cover the sky. Until we defeat the Germans, we cannot defeat God. In the era of self-restoration, the irony of social expectations continued in the works of Vladimir Uflyan, Vladlenko Gavrilchik; The combination of social criticism and irony can be seen in the “baroque lyrics” of Igor Cholin. However, it is unlikely that under conditions of restraint in Russian poetry tendencies of irrational social criticism could grow - since the principle of grouping in a structured poetic space was that there were no conditions for the formation of " big style” and because a critical and ironic approach to certain realities. Of course, the politeness aspects of self-publishing were taken for granted.
Poem - “To the Motherland”.
They mock you
They, O Motherland, reproach
You with your simplicity,
The miserable look of the black huts...
So son, calm and impudent,
Ashamed of his mother -
Tired, timid and sad -
Among his city friends,
Changing age, anger and mercy
Not everything is allowed yet, everything is forbidden, and shit is flying through this space. The idea is to spit blood in the Goslit press, do not dare to publish your immunodeficiency era. In open kitsch, Stepankov made the fundamental principle of his work, so that he could not get out of it, so the works of cryptographic mannerists attracted not only cynical young people, but also the serious interest of amateur poets - they considered the experience of manners as a postmodern experiment.
Looks with a smile of compassion
To the one who wandered hundreds of miles
And for him, on the date of the date,
She saved her last penny.
The poem is “You can’t understand Russia with your mind.”
You can't understand Russia with your mind,
The general arshin cannot be measured:
She will become special -
You can only believe in Russia
The poem is “Hello, Russia is my homeland!”
Hello, Russia is my homeland!
How joyful I am under your foliage!
And there is no singing, but I hear clearly
The choral singing of invisible singers...
It was as if the wind was driving me along it,
All over the earth - in villages and capitals!
I was strong, but the wind was stronger
And I couldn't stop anywhere.
Stronger than storms, stronger than any will
Love for your barns by the stubble,
Love for you, hut in the azure field.
I give her all the mansions
Your own low house with nettles under the window...
How peaceful it is in my upper room
The sun was setting in the evenings!
Like all the space, heavenly and earthly,
I breathed happiness and peace through the window,
And the glorious air of antiquity emanated,
When the yellowing field is agitated
And the fresh forest rustles with the sound of the breeze,
And the raspberry plum is hiding in the garden
Under the sweet shade of a green leaf.
When sprinkled with fragrant dew,
On a ruddy evening or morning at the golden hour,
From under a bush I get a silver lily of the valley
Nods his head affably;
When the icy spring plays along the ravine
And, plunging the thought into some kind of vague dream.
Babbles a mysterious saga to me
About the peaceful land from which he rushes -
Then the anxiety of my soul is humbled.
Then the wrinkles on the forehead disperse, -
And I can comprehend happiness on Earth,
And in the heavens I see God...
Poem - “Motherland ( Immortal happiness is our…)".
Our immortal happiness
It has been called Russia for centuries.
We have never seen a more beautiful edge,
And they were in many places.
But wherever the path runs,
We dreamed of Russian land.
Exile, where is your sting,
Foreign land, where is your strength?
We know such prayers
That the heart is easy at night;
And the proud muses of Russia
They accompany us invisibly.
Thanks to the dense noise
Forests on native plains,
Behind them is the inspired thought,
For every song about them.
Our home is in a random foreign land,
Where the exile's sleep is peaceful,
Like the wind, like the sea, like a secret,
Always surrounded by Russia.
The poem is “In the Motherland.”
You are luxurious, reserved breads
Dear fields -
The ears of corn are blooming,
And I'm barely alive!
Ah, strange, I was created by heaven,
This is my fate
Like the bread of fields cultivated by slaves,
It won't do me any good!
Poem - "Words".
There are many words on earth. There are daily words -
They show the blue of the spring sky.
There are night words that we talk about during the day
We remember with a smile and sweet shame.
There are words - like wounds, words - like judgment, -
They do not surrender and are not taken prisoner.
A word can kill, a word can save,
With a word you can lead the shelves with you.
In a word you can sell, and betray, and buy,
The word can be poured into striking lead.
But we have words for all words in the language:
Glory, Motherland, Loyalty, Freedom and Honor.
I don’t dare repeat them at every step, -
Like banners in a case, I treasure them in my soul.
Who often repeats them - I don’t believe him
He will forget about them in fire and smoke.
He won't remember them on the burning bridge,
They will be forgotten by someone else in a high position.
Anyone who wants to profit from proud words
Insults the heroes of countless ashes,
Those in dark forests and in damp trenches,
Without repeating these words, they died for them.
Let them not serve as bargaining chips, -
Keep them in your heart as a golden standard!
And do not make them servants in small households -
Take care of their original purity.
When joy is like a storm, or grief is like night,
Only these words can help you!
The poem is “Our Motherland.”
And beautiful and rich
Our Motherland, guys.
It's a long drive from the capital
To any of its borders.
Everything around you is your own, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
The rivers sparkle blue,
Blue skies.
Every city
Dear to the heart,
Every rural house is precious.
Everything in battles is taken at some point
And strengthened by labor!
IN this section presented: poems by poets about their native places, as well as beautiful poems about the Motherland, Russia, and Russian poets.
Goals and objectives:
- arouse interest in landscape lyrics;
- to form a culture of perception of lyrics;
- introduce students to the world of their native landscape.
Equipment:
- Reproductions of paintings by I.I. Shishkina "Winter", " Pine forest", "Forest distances", "Rye";
- Reproductions of paintings by V.P. Zinchenko, Taiga artist;
- Photos of the surroundings of the city of Taiga;
- Exhibition of books by Taiga poets L.M. Yakovleva, V.I. Dmitrieva.
V.Ya. Korovina’s program for grade V, under the heading “Russian poets about their homeland, native nature and themselves,” includes several poems about the nature of Russian poets. This fact can only be welcomed. It has been repeatedly noted that middle school students have a very meager poetic “ration”, which is insufficient to form a culture of perception of lyrics. Ten-year-old schoolchildren, with an undeveloped artistic taste and a predominant interest in narrative works, have not lost the excellent qualities necessary for comprehending poetry: emotional responsiveness, attraction to convention (play), rich imagination. And if interest in poetry is not awakened at this age, it will subsequently prove very difficult to overcome poetic deafness.
Working on landscape poetry also has great educational significance. It is so important at the age when the foundations of morality are being laid, to feel, with the help of the poet’s reverent words, the amazing beauty of our native nature and at the same time its fragility, vulnerability, and defenselessness against the advance of technology.
From the enormous wealth of Russian landscape poetry, the program includes poems by I.S. Nikitin “Morning”, A.A. Fet “Spring Rain”, F.I. Tyutchev “There is in the original autumn:”, A.N. Pleshcheev “Spring” , A.V.Koltsova "Mower", A.N.Maikov "Rooks", I.S.Nikitin " Winter night in the village", "I.Z. Surikov "Winter". All of them are placed in a special section of the first part of the new edition of the textbook for grade V. The compilers of the modern literature curriculum for secondary schools have abandoned strict regulation of the number of hours for studying literary works: the teacher is given the right to independently determine their number, taking into account the significance of the topic and the preparedness of the students.
In the first lesson, I propose to introduce students to the world of their native landscape of Siberia, and then turn to I.Z. Surikov’s poem “Winter”.
For the introductory part of the lesson, I choose a bright, interesting form that gives a feeling of festivity. This could be a journey through the calendar, where poems about nature known from elementary school will be read, paintings by Russian artists depicting different seasons can be used. (For the lesson, students are given the task to remember famous poems about nature).
I continue the conversation like this:
It's winter now. Snow covered the frozen ground with a soft, fluffy carpet. The trees seem to be dressed in white fur coats and hats:
Let's continue the description so that it corresponds to the state of today's nature, to what the children see outside the classroom windows. This is how beauty was conveyed winter nature artists (I show reproductions of paintings by I.I. Shishkin “Winter”, I.E. Grabar “February Azure”). What poems about winter do you know? 2-3 poems by Kuzbass poets Sergei Donbai, Boris Burmistrov and Valery Dmitriev will be heard.
Teacher's word:
Valery Dmitriev is our fellow countryman. He was born in the taiga village of Kuzel, a few kilometers from our beloved city of Taiga. Our region is harsh and beautiful. It is beautiful with its dark coniferous forests, which cover impenetrable taiga gullies and swamps, as well as Kuzel and Taiga. The poetic perception of the surrounding world was reflected in the work of V. Dmitriev. His parents were real bearers of oral folk art.
Mother knew her family tree and loved to tell stories from the life of her ancestors, intertwining them with descriptions of nature.
This is how V. Dmitriev’s first love was born - the love of poetry. His wonderful poems are still heard today.
"Beautiful words there's a lot in the world:"
There are many beautiful words in the world
In strange, sophisticated languages.
But I only take those on the road
What is on people's lips?
Those who, recalling from the cradle,
I carry it through life with trepidation.
What were colorful in their native fields,
Dewdrops sparkle in the forest.
Words that anyone can understand
What have I heard in my lifetime?
I am patient and loving
I weave it into every line.
Burns over the river
Rowan flash,
Flowing into the crimson sunset.
me this evening
Your gentle voice
Calls us back to our youth.
Under the rowan tree our youth blossomed,
Under the rowan tree you gave me love.
Don't forget that rowan dawn,
It's autumn again, and you're not with me.
I have a little time left in life,
No meetings, no partings ahead.
I would like to see a familiar road again
Get to our mountain ash.
MORNING
chilly morning
In no hurry to shed
Red glare on the forest.
Clutching the branches into the dawn,
He pulls lights from heaven.
And golden rays
They weave the finest calico.
The sunset is mysteriously silent,
Dawns awaken the distance.
And yet he is so good -
Purple of the last stroke.
It looks like a big fire
In which the clouds melt.
Display of illustrations and photographs of the city of Taiga and its environs, paintings by the Taiga artist V.K. Zinchenko. (Application)
Teacher's word:
L.M. Yakovleva was born in our city. The last ten years of my work history She was a correspondent for the newspaper Taiginsky Rabochiy. Author of many books. Winner of the A.N. Voloshin Literary Prize. Taiga, taiga is dear to her heart. She writes poems about them:
My city
Taiga is the smell of resinous wind,
Perseverance and loyalty of people.
Taiga people are reliable and resilient, like cedars,
And they won’t leave a friend in trouble.
Taiga is the rails ringing with song,
Cantata of flying wheels.
You cannot find a more wonderful nature than ours.
Here is the kingdom of rowan trees and birches.
In winter the snows are deep and boundless,
Such unearthly purity:
And our girls are beautiful and gentle,
Like white bird cherry flowers.
The platform is like a pier -
The joy of meeting, the sadness of separation.
Taiga is a city of labor.
No wonder our guys have strong hands
Trains run along the ground.
Pre-winter
By the birch tree under my window
The leaves flew around, flew around.
And to the south all the southerners have long ago
The birds flew away, flew away.
Only a viburnum bush in the wind
Blazing brightly, blazing.
The snow whitened the whole earth by morning,
And it doesn’t melt, and it doesn’t melt anymore.
But spring will still come to my house,
Everything will return to normal, it will return.
And the river will wake up under the ice,
And my soul will wake up again.
You see, poets have depicted winter in different ways, because, like any other season of the year, every month and even every day is unique.
A little more time will pass, the snow will darken, the streams will run, and spring will come. What poems about spring do you know? Let's listen to one of them by A.N. Pleshcheev "Spring".
Let's move on through the pages of the calendar, without getting carried away by the number of verses. The latter will sound about summer, which will lead students to the perception of F.I. Tyutchev’s poem “How joyful is the roar of summer storms.” Forest: We say this word and immediately imagine beautiful, mysterious and infinitely varied pictures: dense greenery, giant trees, never-ending forest noise. In the works of many Russian writers, poets, and artists we find beautiful descriptions of the forest. We invite you to remember the artist I.I. Shishkin, who was called the singer of the forest, and turn to a small exhibition of reproductions of paintings that will help create the mood necessary for the perception of the poem and present some of its images. The paintings “Pine Forest”, “Forest Distances”, “Trees” are especially appropriate for this purpose.
“The forest is noisy” is the title of a story by Russian writer V.G. Korolenko. "Russian Forest" - the title of the novel Soviet writer L.M. Leonova. Paintings, poems, stories, novels: Why do you think the forest so often became the hero of works of art? Of course, the beautiful Russian forest is the beauty, wealth and pride of our country. The fate of the Russian people is inextricably linked with it: peasant huts were built from the forest, the forest provided warmth, animals and birds, berries and mushrooms. The forest hid and protected partisans during the Great Patriotic War. And this is not all that people received and receive from the forest: clean air and rivers, protection of fields from the wind, from soil destruction and, of course, joy, relaxation, beauty.
F.I. Tyutchev’s poem contains many metaphors that are difficult for ten-year-old students, but they will not complicate the overall perception of the work and understanding of its poetic mood, so it is better to explain the meaning of some expressions not before the beginning, but during the process of analysis. Before reading the poem, you can ask students to describe the forest on a clear sunny summer day, during a thunderstorm, or at sunset. This kind of work, an attempt to find a word to describe their impressions, forces students to be more attentive to the artistic word.
In my lessons on studying Russian landscape poetry, I use elements of creative work that sharpens students’ attention to the word, asks them to find the most accurate, bright word for description today, tree outside the window, maple leaf, etc.
Such work will also serve as preparation for a creative essay about nature. During the lesson I turn to the wonderful poems of A.A. Fet and F.I. Tyutchev.
“Rye is ripening over a hot field:” A.A. Fet - here is the musicality of the verse, and beauty, and sophistication poetic images. But how to open them to ten-year-old students? In our work, there were cases when the children, still under the impression of fairy tales, after reading the ending of the poem, filled with hissing and whistling sounds and images that were not entirely clear at first perception, imagined some kind of terrible fire-breathing dragon, which, of course, led far away from the mood expressed in the poem. Therefore, before reading, it is necessary to prepare the children to perceive it. Paintings with the title “Rye” by Russian artists I.I. Shishkin and A.K. Savrasov can help with this.
What time does rye ripen? Imagine a day at the end of July when the sun is shining brightly and there is not a cloud in the sky. Continue the series of definitions and verbs that will help describe: a July day is hot (students find epithets: sultry, long, long, endless:); the sun is bright:, baking:; the night is short:
Such work helps to imagine a hot summer day, and therefore tune in to the perception of the poem. Now let's listen to him. It is not easy for students to identify the poetic mood expressed in a poem. Therefore, we will help them by asking them to choose from the proposed words and expressions (as a first task, it is better to write them on the board in advance) those that, from their point of view, best convey the poet’s feelings: admiration, triumph, delight, admiration for greatness and beauty nature. We come to the conclusion that all these words help to understand the poet’s feelings expressed in the poem.
Let's listen to the amazing music of Fetov's verse. They will help with this next questions and tasks: re-read the first stanza. Which lines end with consonant (similar sounding) endings? Find a line that has consonances inside it. How does this make the stanza sound? What sounds are repeated in the first line? What does their sound remind you of? Let’s read it so that the schoolchildren “hear” and imagine the rustling of those keeping up rye ears. What sounds are heard especially often in the following lines of the stanza? The instrumentation of Fetov's poem is sophisticated; not all of its features can be noticed by schoolchildren. But it is worth drawing their attention to the fact that the “hard” hissing and whistling sounds at the beginning of the stanzas are replaced by “smooth” sounds “v” and “l”. After we have noticed all this, read the stanza out loud. Perhaps now it will become clear why the great Russian composer P.I. Tchaikovsky called A.A. Fet not just a poet, but a poet-musician, although Fet never wrote music.
This poem contains unusual expressions that are not used in ordinary speech. Let's ask the students to find them, and then explain how they understand them, what pictures they imagine when reading these lines.
The lines are not completely clear:
The whimsical wind blows
Golden shimmers.
First of all, let's think about their general meaning. What picture appears when reading? The painting “Rye” by A.K. Savrasov can help to recreate the image: yellow waves of rye ears passing across the entire field as the wind blows. The wind is called whimsical in the poem. This word here has multiple meanings. Let us remember how Prince Elisha addressed the wind in “The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights.” The same wind - free, willful - in the poem by A.A. Fet. But in a classroom where children are well prepared, a more subtle meaning of the image can be shown. The guys heard the word “unpretentious” - simple, unartificial. And the wind in A.A. Fet’s poem is a real artist: it passes in smooth waves across the field, bending and straightening the ears, creating a picture of a golden sea of rye.
Let's explain others complex images poems. To help children better understand the meaning of the lines:
But wide into the area of the night
The day spread its arms.
Just for a moment the sky closes
Fire-breathing eye. -
Let us remind you which ones short nights in July. The day seems endless, and the sun disappears, giving way to night, only for a few short hours. “Yes, but not for a moment, as in the poem,” students sometimes object. However, we are not surprised to read in folk tales, in epics there are such expressions, for example: “He waves to the right - there will be a street, if he waves to the left - there will be an alley.” To convey admiration for skillful work, strength, and power, nameless authors of folk art often used exaggeration. And in A.A. Fet’s poem we feel amazement and admiration for the greatness of nature. Nature in the poem lives and acts. And the “fire-breathing eye” - the sun rests quite a bit in order to again take up its work, which is so necessary for nature, the harvest, and man.
When completing the analysis, I read the poem myself so that the children can once again imagine the pictures drawn in it.
To switch schoolchildren to F.I. Tyutchev’s poem “Reluctantly and timidly,” which describes the state of nature during a thunderstorm, you can use a reproduction of K.E. Markovsky’s painting “Children Running from a Thunderstorm.” Let's describe the picture. How did nature change in anticipation of the thunderstorm? How do children feel? Remember what you felt before the storm. Let's read a poem. In what mood does the poet write about a thunderstorm? Does it match what you and I experienced? Read the poem carefully. Does it describe one moment of the storm?
Re-read the verses that talk about the approaching thunderstorm. How does tension build in nature? What words does the author use to show that nature experiences the same feelings as humans?
Re-read how the beginning of the thunderstorm is described. How to convey its growth in reading? (A slight acceleration in the pace of reading, clarity, “elasticity” in the pronunciation of short words in the fourth stanza to convey the accelerating rhythm of the rain.) Along the way, let’s pay attention to alliteration. (The sound “r” passing through the third and fourth lines allows you to “hear” thunderclaps).
Let's reread last stanza. What picture do you imagine? In the children's imaginary drawings, the sky appears covered with dark, low thunderclouds. The last slanting ray of the sun appeared for a moment through a break in the clouds, and then a bright bolt of lightning announced that the thunderstorm was at its height. We ask students to read the entire poem, striving for expressive reading.
To prepare for the lesson, you can give a collective task by dividing the class into four groups (according to the seasons). The group may include students born at this time of year. Group work teaches collective responsibility, support, mutual assistance, teaches division of functions, communication, therefore it is desirable to use it not only in high school, but also in middle school. And a lesson using it is effective, since the children have a feeling of common interest in the result, especially if you organize a competition to see which group will best “represent” their time of year.
Each group is given the task:
Choose another poem about “your” time of year that you especially liked. Learn it by heart or prepare an expressive reading;
Find and bring a reproduction of a painting by one of the Russian or Soviet artists that would correspond in theme and mood to the chosen poem;
Write a short home essay about “your” time of year. Essay topics (required) creative nature) can be given as a choice.
What could a spring icicle tell you about?
What did the lark see when it flew in from the south?
Conversation between a birch tree and a lily of the valley.
Conversation of ripening ears.
Galchat learn to fly.
Adventures of a sunbeam.
The aspen trees are cold.
Autumn artist colors.
Conversation of falling leaves.
To the winter forest (park) - for a fairy tale.
Melodies of a winter day.
What does a sparrow chirp about on a sunny frosty day?
It is necessary to check the written essays in advance so that they can be heard in class. best works about each of the seasons.
Character homework will determine the structure of the lesson extracurricular reading. After a little opening remarks teacher or a musical “showpiece” (for example, the play “April. Snowdrop” from the cycle “The Seasons” by P.I. Tchaikovsky), each group of students “represents” their time of year.
You can invite the children to arrange an exhibition of paintings, decorate the classroom and clothes with flowers or “symbols”, for example, an applique of a snowflake, a young leaf or a flower made from paper, but in no case should they allow treachery in the form of tattered branches and trees or devastated lawns. The imagination of children, if they are passionate about work, can be limitless: kokoshniks, elements of costumes, their own drawings, panels: One student, at the choice of a group or teacher, reads a poem, another talks about his impressions of it, the understanding of the poem is deepened by the statements of other students, questions from the teacher. For example, in A.V. Koltsov’s poem “The Mower,” the children usually feel the beauty of work sung by the poet, but do not understand by what poetic means this is achieved. Therefore, let us recall how a mower works, how a hand with a scythe moves, and then reread the last part of the poem. What do the poetic lines sound like and what do they remind you of? Please note that each line gives the feeling of a rhythmic swing of the scythe. What sounds are repeated in these lines and what does that sound sound like? And the guys note hissing and whistling sounds, which convey the sound of a scythe, the sound of falling mown grass. Then two or three students (possibly also chosen by the group) read poems they have chosen about that time of year and turn to pictures that match the poem in mood and detail. One or two of the best compositions sound. Then the second group enters. At the end of the lesson, the teacher evaluates the results of collective work.
Concluding the study of landscape poetry, let us recall which poems of Russian and Soviet poets we encountered. These poets lived at different times, but they are all united by a love for the Motherland, their native nature, the ability to feel especially strongly, to see especially vigilantly, to notice what is hidden from the gaze of the lazy and indifferent. And talented writers and poets have another amazing gift: the gift of “drawing with words,” just as artists draw with a pencil and brush.
Poems by Russian poets reveal to us the beauty of our native land, call us to protect all living things, and teach us to understand the language of nature and the language of poetry. Poetry is also a great miracle. But it is revealed, like the miracle of nature, not immediately and not to everyone, but only to an intelligent and kind person, sensitive and attentive.
This is exactly what our literature lessons should teach.
