A lesson in reading Belozers pantry of the wind. "A walk through the magical forest" outline of a reading lesson (Grade 4) on the topic. Poem - a logical riddle for children about the wind

Synopsis of the GCD in the preschool educational institution for children 6-7 years old "Pantry of the wind".

Synopsis of educational activities in the preparatory group "Pantry of the wind."

He blows, I don't.
But then when I blow
The wind is blowing on me.
(Fan)
Educator. Well done and we are waiting for the next stage.
Experience-game "Where does the wind come from?"
(The teacher brings a candle and a snake. It is very easy to make a snake: a circle is taken from thin paper and cut in a spiral, then the resulting blank is hung on a thread. Lights a candle and invites the children to blow on it.)
Educator. Why did the flame deflect? (The wind's blowing.)
(The teacher places the snake over the candle flame.)
Educator. What's going on with the snake? (She starts spinning.) Why is she spinning? (Because warm air goes up and lifts the snake.)
Why does the wind blow in different directions? (It turns out that at the top the air comes out of the room to the outside. It is warm air. It goes outside. And the cold air is heavier and it is downstairs. It enters the room from the street. This is how the “wind” in the room is obtained. But this is how wind is obtained in nature .)
Conclusion: wind is the movement of air. Warm moves up and cold moves down, and they tend to switch places.
Educator. And now listen carefully to the reasoning, or an informative story for children about the wind by the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy “Why is there a wind (reasoning)”.
Fish live in water, but humans live in the air. The fish cannot hear or see the water until the fish themselves move, or until the water moves.
But as soon as we run, we hear the air - we blow in the face; and sometimes you can hear when we run, how the air whistles in our ears. When we open the door to the warm upper room, the wind always blows from below from the courtyard into the upper room, and from above it blows from the upper room into the courtyard.
When someone walks around the room or waves a dress, we say: “he makes the wind”, and when the stove is heated, the wind always blows into it. When the wind blows in the yard, it blows for whole days and nights, sometimes in one direction, sometimes in the other. This happens because somewhere on earth the air gets very hot, and in another place it cools down - then the wind starts, and a cold spirit comes from below, and warm on top, just like from the courtyard to the hut. And until then it blows until it warms up where it was cold, and cools down where it was hot.
Educator. This is how children were introduced to the wind in the 19th century. And you guys know that the wind can work! It turns out that the wind is a hard worker: it helps the mills spin, carries the seeds of plants, sweeps the streets, brings smells and sounds to us, helps a parachute, a kite fly ...
Wind, breeze, breeze...
Why are you a roar in the world?
Better sweep the streets
Or windmills circles!
Look - languishing in bags
Golden wheat.
The wind blows day and night
He wants to help the miller.
All the grain will become flour
Flour will flow like a river.
Bake us out of flour
Buns, buns, pies.
(Y.Akim)
Finger gymnastics "Wind and mill".
Mill, mill, Children clearly pronounce the words, gradually accelerating the rhythm.
Grinds flour, grinds, Children make rotational movements with their hands in front of their chest.
Grinding, grinding, grinding…
There is no wind, the mill has stopped.
Again the wind blew, the mill whirled. We twist our hands very quickly under the fast pronunciation of words.
Grinding, grinding, grinding… Fingers clenched into a fist, knocking fists.
The wind blew harder.
We grinded flour Hands to the sides - these are huge bags!
Those are big bags!
From flour, from flour. Palms open, clap one hand about another - bake
We baked pies! "pies".
Educator. We know that the wind, like humans, has an important job to do. What does he do when he takes a break from his work? Where does he sleep? What does he love? Here, listen to a poem about the wind and its favorite pastimes.
The wind blew from the south to the north,
Sweeping dust from the road
The clover swayed on the field
And combed the feather grass.
leafing through the blades of grass,
All noted, all taken into account,
All the goats on the path,
All grasshoppers and bees.
Tousled the bushes and immediately
For the buzz and hum
Took and gadfly on the water
He angrily blew off the reeds.
Waves passed along the river,
The float, jokingly, shook,
Get on the boat between us
Woke up and fell asleep.
(M.Pridvorov)
Educator. And another poem about the wind will tell us how to see the wind and hear it. (The wind creaks the window frame, pushes the window, rustles the papers, plays the turntable.)
I saw how the breeze
To us flew to the light!
He creaked the window frame,
Quietly pushed the window,
Played with my Panama
Woke up and fell asleep.
He slept quietly
Slept calmly
Didn't spin, didn't interfere
Sat down on the windowsill
Slightly rustled paper
Twisted in the corner with a turntable
And lay down behind a pillow.
I saw everything. Only the wind
Apparently he didn't notice me.
(G. Lagdzyn)
Educator. And now I suggest you play the word game "Pick a word." (The teacher asks the children questions, and the children answer.)
- What can the wind do? (Make noise, buzz, rustle, howl, raise, swoop, etc.)
Guys, the wind can do a lot. Can it harm a person? (Yes, it destroys houses, breaks trees, rips off a hat, throws dust or snow in the eyes, and overturns cars.)
- How does the wind help us? (Inflates the sails, turns the wings of the mill.)

Timofei Maksimovich Belozerov was born on December 23, 1929 in the village of Kamyshi, Kurtamyshsky district, Kurgan region, into a large peasant family. Childhood passed in the foothills of Altai, where fate brought the family in the hungry thirties. He lost his mother early, and during the war he ended up first in Omsk, then in the Bolsherechensky village of Staro-Karasuk, being raised by a kind woman, Maria Nikitichna Terentyeva. Here he graduated from the seven-year school and continued his studies in the village of Chernovo.
Further, fate threw Timofey Belozerov to the city of Kalachinsk, where his working biography began. He worked as a simple worker for cleaning the railway tracks, a carpenter, a lumberjack for hire. Here he was constantly accompanied by an unsettled hungry life. Some kind person advised him to enter the Omsk River School. There, he explained, the cadets are on full state support.
The Omsk River School in those years was semi-military. It trained not only river specialists, but also officers for the Navy. Having withstood the competition (12 people per place), Timofey Belozerov became a cadet of the technological department. He graduated from the college in 1952 and left for a naval training in Vladivostok. Then he returned to Omsk and received a referral to the city of Barnaul at the Bobrovsky Shipyard with a diploma in metal cutting technology. As he himself recalled, he worked willingly, he liked the assertive and noisy mechanics, captains, he liked the hard work of the workshop.
In these years, the creative biography of the poet begins. Like a magical miracle, there was a great love for poetry, which arose even in the fertile school time, and with it a further passion for his own writing. The first publication of poems appeared in the magazine "Altai". He was noticed and invited to Novosibirsk to the regional meeting of young writers. The leaders of the seminar, well-known at that time poets Alexander Smerdov and Kazimir Lisovsky, approved the young poet's experiments in poetry and advised him to write a book for children. Somewhat later, when Belozerov was already living in Omsk, such a book appeared with colorful drawings by the famous Omsk artist K.P. Belova. It was called "On Our River" (1957).
In 1954, Timofey Belozerov was transferred to Omsk to the Directorate of the Lower Irtysh River Shipping Company. He was accepted to the position of a literary employee of the basin newspaper "Soviet Irtysh". Here he had to really plunge into the working life of the rivermen, not only on the river bank, but also on the deck of the ship. However, as the poet himself later admitted, all the same work in the foundry of the Omsk Radio Plant named after. A.S. Popova was more suitable for the acquired profession and liked more. Here T. Belozerov worked for several years, until in 1969 he began permanent creative work - she already gave enough money to support the family. During these creative years, he published books for children one after another: "Spring" (1858), "Forest Violinist" (1960), "Hoots over the River" (1962), "Grow Up the Garden" (1962), "Forest Swing" (1963) and so on.
The accumulated creative experience contributed to admission to the Literary Institute. A.M. Gorky (in absentia), from which he graduated in 1963. Timofei Maksimovich himself recalled the period of study in the only educational institution in the whole country: “Studying at the institute, in this restless “marave”, where the very air seemed to be saturated with literature, endless disputes, reading, analysis of poetry, gave and discovered a lot. I began to look at children's literature as a serious matter. A year earlier, he was accepted as a member of the Writers' Union of the USSR.
In subsequent years, Timofey Belozerov's books for children began to be published annually, and in publishing houses in different cities: in Moscow, Novosibirsk, Sverdlovsk, Kemerovo, Barnaul, Alma-Ata, Kyiv, and even in Bulgaria and the GDR. A friendship began with the great luminaries of children's literature. A positive assessment of his work was expressed in written and oral form: Agniya Barto, Sergey Baruzdin, Yakov Akim, Igor Motyashov, Yuri Korinets, Valentin Berestov, Vladislav Bahrevsky ... The classic of children's literature Elena Blaginina especially admired Belozerov's poems, with whom the poet had a real friendship and active correspondence. With her preface, T. Belozerov's books "Pantry of the Wind" (1970), "Winter-Winter" (1974) were published by the publishing house "Children's Literature".
In the same publishing house, several books of different volumes are published in mass circulation and even in the millions - "Forest Plakunchik" with drawings by the fairy tale artist V. Suteev. (This tale has since been reprinted several times.) The book of poems "Karasik" with a preface by Irina Tokmakova was published in two million copies. In the preface, she wrote: “The poems of Timofey Maksimovich Belozerov are a breath of fresh air, pierced by the sun, smelling of a blooming chamomile meadow” ... Only a real poet with a true sense of nature can see a hare in the first snowflake that fell on a meadow in late autumn, hear the clatter of deer hooves in the noise of a light summer rain, call blue snowdrops Snow Maiden's tears.
The most expensive and favorite book for the poet was "Zhuravkin holiday" (1980) with engravings by the well-known graphic artist Nikolai Kalita in the country and abroad. This book at the International Book Fair in Moscow received a diploma of the 2nd degree for printing.
A lot of drawings for various books by T. Belozerov, published by the publishing house "Children's Literature" and in the Omsk Book Publishing House, were made by the Moscow graphic artist Nikolai Korotkin. In the Omsk Museum. F.M. Dostoevsky, an exhibition of works by this artist was arranged for the works of our fellow countryman.
Children's magazines - "Murzilka", "Kolobok", "Pioneer", "Funny Pictures", "Misha", "Sibiryachok", "Bonfire" - willingly and regularly printed the works of T. Belozerov, and even adult magazines "Siberian Lights", "Ural", "Neva", "Siberian-Far Eastern Land". His poems can be found in many collective collections, almanacs, anthologies, anthologies. Perhaps, reviews, articles, and notes were written for each book by different authors in regional newspapers, especially in Omskaya Pravda, where the poet worked as a literary consultant for about twenty years. Many aspiring writers came to him for advice and support. Some went on to become professional writers.
With the opening of the Omsk book publishing house in 1981, the poet published significant books of poetry: "Snowdrops" (1982), "Swan" (1986), a book of fairy tales "The Dvorovichok" (1989). And in total, in his entire creative life, Timofey Belozerov published 53 books, half of them - in Moscow publishing houses. And posthumously came out already two dozen. The total circulation of the poet's creative heritage is more than 17 million copies.
For services to domestic literature, he was awarded the government awards "For Labor Valor" and "For Valiant Labor. In commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the birth of V.I. Lenin. For the book of poems "Colored Voices", published in 1972 in a deluxe edition, he receives the Omsk Komsomol Prize. A little later, he was awarded the title of "Honored Worker of Culture of the RSFSR."
T.M. died. Belozerov on February 15, 1986 and was buried at the Staro-Vostochny cemetery.

Vladimir Novikov

LIST OF PUBLISHED

Spring.
Omsk book publishing house, 1958, 200,000 thousand copies.

Forest violinist.
Omsk book publishing house,
1960, 100,000 thousand copies.

Horns over the river.
Novosibirsk bookstore
publishing house, 1961, 100,000 copies.

Horns over the river.
Moscow, Detgiz,
1962, 110,000 copies.

Choose to taste!
Sverdlovsk bookstore
publishing house, 1962, 50,000 copies.

Ogorodny Grow up.
Omsk book publishing house,
1962, 110,000 copies.

Forest swing.
Sverdlovsk bookstore
publishing house, 1963, 100,000 copies.

To my friends.
Omsk book publishing house,
1963, 110,000 copies.

Ogorodny Grow up.
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1964, 110,000 copies.

Toptyzhka.
Sverdlovsk bookstore
publishing house, 1964, 100,000 copies.

The gates have opened!
Sverdlovsk bookstore
publishing house, 1965, 100,000 copies.

Veselki, counting rhymes, riddles,
tongue twisters, fables.
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1965, 50,000 copies.

Cheerful watermelon.
West Siberian
book publishing house, 1966,
100,000 copies

Taiga traffic light.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1968, 300,000 copies.

Horns over the river.
Alma-Ata, "Zhazusy",
1968, 10,000 copies.

Nuts.
Altai book publishing house,
1968, 150,000 copies.

Blue hour.
Moscow,
ed. "Soviet Russia",
1969, 150,000 copies.

Blue hour.
Kemerovo, book publishing house,
1969, 100,000 copies.

Gulenki.
Folk lullabies
songs.
Middle Ural bookstore
publishing house, 1969, 150,000 copies.

Beach on the river.
Novosibirsk,
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1969, 100,000 copies.

Beach on the river.
Moscow, "Kid",
1969, 100,000 thousand copies.

Nameless river.
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1970, 200,000 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1970, 300,000 copies.

Between green and blue.
Perm, book publishing house,
1970, 200,000 copies.

Wind pantry.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1970, 100,000 copies.

Forest violinist.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1971, 100,000 copies.

Miracles (riddles, counting rhymes,
Tongue Twisters).
Moscow, "Kid",
1971, 150,000 copies.

Magic staff.
Moscow, "Kid",
1972, 150,000 copies.

Mosquito bun.
Novosibirsk, West Sea
birsk book publishing house,
1973, 150,000 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1974, 300,000 copies.

Zimushka-winter.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1974, 100,000 copies.

Ogorodny Grow up.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1976, 300,000 copies.

Magic staff.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1976, 150,000 copies.

Forest poems.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1976, 1,500,000 copies.

Currant bush.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1977, 100,000 copies.

Lark.
Novosibirsk,
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1978, 150,000 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1979, 2,100,000 copies.

Horses are galloping
(poems, riddles).
Moscow, "Kid",
1979, 200,000 copies.

Zhuravkin holiday.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1980, 50,000 copies.

Karasik.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1981, 2,000,000 copies.

Fairy tales.
Novosibirsk,
West Siberian
book publishing house,
1981, 200,000 copies.

Where the grass grows thick.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1981, 150,000 copies.

Buka.
Sverdlovsk,
Middle Ural
book publishing house,
1981, 350,000 copies.

Snowdrops.
Omsk book publishing house,
1982, 100,000 copies.

Sweet cranberry.
Omsk book publishing house,
1983, 100,000 copies.

April.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1983, 100,000 copies.

The song is wonderful.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1984, 100,000 copies.

Loaf.
Omsk book publishing house,
1984, 250,000 copies.

Eternal flame.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1985, 300,000 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Moscow,
ed. "Children's literature",
1986, 2,000,000 copies.

Swan.
Omsk book publishing house,
1986, 50,000 copies.

Enchanted Grove.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1986, 150,000 copies.

Puzzles.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1987, 500,000 copies.

Pea whistle.
Omsk book publishing house,
1987, 40,000 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1988, 2,000,000 copies.

Here is my village.
Omsk book publishing house,
1988, 50,000 copies.

Dvorovichok.
Omsk book publishing house,
1989, 50,000 copies.

Zimushka-winter.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1989, 450,000 copies.

Bayushki (folk cola
white songs and amuse
ki). Omsk book publishing house,
1990, 200,000 copies.

Summer song.
Moscow,
Children's literature,
1990, 100,000 copies.

Zhuravkin holiday.
Moscow, Malysh publishing house,
1990, 500,000 copies.

Song over the backwater.
Omsk book publishing house,
1991, 100,000 copies.

Living gift.
Omsk book publishing house,
1992, 100,000 copies.

River tale.
Omsk book publishing house,
1992, 100,000 copies.

forest violinist
(in Ukrainian),
1992, 87,000 copies.

Starlight (compiler
IN AND. Belozerov).
Omsk, 1997, 999 copies.

Seasons
(compiled by V.I. Belozerov).
Omsk, publishing house
"Dialogue-Siberia",
"Heritage". 1999, 999 copies.

Forest Plakunchik.
Another reissue
in Moscow, 2001

Karasik.
Omsk,
Publishing House
"Science", 3000 copies.

TANKER NAMED AFTER THE POET

Omsk has both a street and a library named after the great Russian poet Timofei Maksimovich Belozerov (1929-1986). And now, on the initiative of Omsk writers, primarily Alexander Tokarev and Vladimir and Vladimir Novikov, the ship "Timofey Belozerov" appeared. The event is more than fair, because by the first profession Timofey Maksimovich was a riverman.
- With Timofey Belozerov, we entered the Omsk River School in 1948, - says A.P., a member of the Union of Writers of Russia. Tokarev. - I studied at the navigation department, and he studied at the technological one. After graduation, I worked as a navigator on the Azerbaijan steamer, and he worked at a shipyard in Barnaul. Returning to Omsk for family reasons, Timofey went to work at the editorial office of the Sovetsky Irtysh newspaper. It published his early poems, which he began to write while still in school. When we were in our second year, we formed a literary circle. Belozerov was the oldest among us, and his poems were the most mature. Then he worked as a foundry foreman at a radio factory. At that time, Timofey Belozerov was already a well-known poet, he published his wonderful books.
After his death, when a high relief was erected on the wall of the house where he lived, in memory of him, I said: it would be good to name at least a small boat after him. But it turned out that not a small, but a huge tanker, an oil tanker with a carrying capacity of 2100 tons, a length of 108 and a width of 15 meters ... "
The rally on the occasion of naming the ship after the poet was held on the tanker itself, and it is symbolic that it was on May 24 - the Day of Slavic Literature and Culture, as well as the day of the 100th anniversary of the birth of Mikhail Sholokhov. Rivermen, writers, workers of cultural institutions gathered on the deck of the tanker. The speeches were short, but capacious, and everyone agreed on one thing: the name of Timofey Belozerov must be immortalized!
On the same day, the tanker "Timofey Belozerov" sailed towards the Far North, where the entire navigation will work on the transportation of petroleum products. And many, many people will see the name of the classical poet on its board.

Y. Viskin

A personal fund has been created in the Kurtamysh Museum of Local Lore
writer Belozerov Timofey Maksimovich,
where manuscripts, correspondence, photographs, documents, publications and personal items are kept.
In the children's library. G.N. Zubov has books by the author.

without mom

In memory of my mother
Arina Trifonovna

The solar frame has already become
The benches are higher and the corners are sharper.
Without you, caring mother,
It was close to the door...

The plane sparkled under the clouds,
The lark fell from a height,
And with your swarthy hands
Roadside flowers smelled.

I went to the river in a dark lowland
On strangers, smoky fires.
The wind blew in my face, then in my back
Drove me from childhood for the time being.

Driven into the unlocked hallway,
In the cellars for a glass of milk,
In steamship holds on my knees
Became under the weight of the bag.

Wind, wind!
broken frames,
Ceilings in shag smoke...
To be on earth without a mother
I don't wish on anyone.

Dogs

Dogs caress me.
Seeing the school ahead
They give me signs with their tails:
“Control smells!
Do not go!
That's the thing - beyond the river! .. "
And I gave up on everything.
I shared a crust of bread
Handed out the leftover sausage...
I have not been in the meadows today, -
Follow me, faithful dogs!
But every dog
wagging his tail,
disappeared
behind the first bush.

The smoke of the ship curls over the deck,
Seagulls fly by, the shores swim.
The further north, the stricter nature -
The sky is silent, the taiga is darker.
Krutoyars smoke with loose sand,
The streams are full of meadow silence.
And now the ancient city of Tara
Tower houses above the pier are visible.
And again bushes, strips of bread,
Bays in the green coolness of the branches...
And suddenly, as if in a fairy tale, the sky filled up
All domes of Tobolsk churches.
With belfry openings,
wide and narrow
With the arrows of the towers, the battlements of the Kremlin, -
Eternally for us -
for Tatars and for Russians -
Holy places and native land.
The weary sun sets over the sea,
The river sighs lazily and sleepily,
And in the sky lightning -
like the feathers of the Firebird,
And the cloud is like a mane
The Humpbacked Horse!
Book list

I'm sure you'll enjoy reading this book, reader. Why? Because she is full of respect for you, leaving you the right to think, and finish, and generalize.

It is true because the poet is sincere.

It is simple, but it is apparent simplicity - there is a lot of work behind it.

Read this book! You will be glad...

/Elena Blaginina/

Spilled on the feathers of a titmouse
Chilly night blue...
A fox came out of the hollow,
We climbed into the dawn of the black grouse.

Magpie raised above the nest
Tail like a pan handle.
In the dark, at the bottom of the deep grass,
Moose tracks blew.

The troublesome aspen trembled,
The goats came out, pulling reindeer moss...
And the tit is proud and happy
Feels at the top.

Summer, summer, fabulous summer!
Miracles make my head spin...
Here in rainbow-colored chain mail
Islands emerge from the river!

In scales, in the shimmer of shells,
With an uncovered mane of willows,
From the courtyards of coastal villages
Silently, the fishermen are taken captive ...

On the sands covered with mud,
To shallow waters as sharp as swords
Then the goose shoal will go down,
That, bawling, rooks will fall down.

Summer, summer...

With an unfinished song
The hot grass is waiting for the rain.
Together with the sun, in the haze of dawn,
Islands come out of the river!

I drowned in fragrant herbs...
Arms outstretched in silence
Among the beetles, among the goats
I lie on a twilight day.

Powdered with honey pollen,
Angrily otpet bees,
Through the blooming peas
I lie, I look at the white light ...

At my feet
thorn bush
Rustling, shaking off the heat,
And clouds of recent sadness
Float, playing, above me ...

Then I'll go out into the clearing,
Shake off the sleepy bumblebee,
And if I become sad again
I'll be back
And in herbs
I'll drown...

The path slipped off the embankment
And, at the traffic light behind,
Through forests, hillocks and hollows
Curls in the grasses with a torn string
At the porch, at your doorstep
Behind the fence in the field and in the steppe,
You will hear the road sing
Only on the path
Step on.

On the small river
I always have fun.
Flowing, flowing water
It sparkles like mica.
It rings like a cold stream.
In a ravine under the mountain
In dense green grass
She covered her head...
Let the river be small
But she's got things to do
She's for the shepherd
Brought the chill
Bathed the tit
On the wet shore
Played a little
Chamomile on the run.
And in a hot far field,
Throwing away the rusty leaf
Her crystal waters
The tractor driver got drunk.
The river winds rings,
Trembling on the pebbles...
She is in a big river
Runs for the name!

The winds tend to the lungwort
Ripe winter bitter ...
A she-wolf was driven out into the field
Together with a litter of wolf cubs.
The wolf cub is cowardly in the heat,
Clumsy like a crab
And grasshoppers awake
Noisily splashing from under the paws.
Sheep trails ahead
Sun, grasses and forests,
Behind - iron stomp
And human voices...

I'm lying on the lawn
And I look into the sky
In a herd of clouds
I find a horse.
In a black heap of clouds,
In the angry wind
Together with a burqa
I take a lightning bolt.
And it's scary
And I'm happy
Ride into the red sunset
On a dashing horse!

On the mountain - birches and aspens,
Leaves are littered with rain.
On the bake, in the sequins of the web,
Vigorous firewood is drying.
A hobbled horse on the mountain
Slowly wandering through the clouds
And the tail is only a little worse grass
The sun hits rosy cheeks.

The blue forest is drowning in darkness,
Sleeps until morning.
Tangled horses slumber
In the smoke of our fire
Firebrands smolder in the coals,
Butterflies are on fire.
A barrel of potatoes from the ashes
Right into your arms
Targets me.

Silence in the garden and in the house,
The calf is sleeping by the wattle fence.
Near the cellar in the straw
Sparrow ride.
Behind the fence
dusty canopy
The winds bend
The air is soft
Like lye
surfacing
From the river...

You dragged cones from the fire
Dark, disheveled, evil?
Have you seen rivers of gold,
Full of living silver?
Have you heard the sand singing
The copper silence of the bell towers?
For those who are forever dearly sick,
Here is my bread, And here is my hand.

Over the yellow scree of the cliff
The old pine bent
Bare roots fearfully
She leads the wind.
On them, as soon as the dawn peeps
And the elk will lead to the water,
Like in the arms of an old nanny,
The warbler chirps
In the nest

House with three windows
Pryaslo, garden.
Old woman path
Crossing the Ford.
There, in the middle of nowhere
By the river Iset
Glows on stakes
Sad network.
striped buoy
Dries on the sand
barefoot guys
Laying down to the river.
In a long fur coat
buoy worker Fedot,
Listening to "Speedola"
Repairing Peremet...

If I
write poetry
I'll get tired for you
Then I will go to the shepherds
In Russian Polyana.
I'll go out in the morning with a horn,
I'll break my papa
I will gird myself with a strap
White shirt.
I'll drop it on a swan
Whip silk,
I play on the go
Something Cow.
And the people will wake up
And it starts to burrow
And the calves at the gate
Hooves will sharpen.

- Goodbye, foliage, and peace, and comfort,
And a reliable roof from thunderstorms!
Sliding along the green suspension, a parachute
Carried away the poplar seed. -
May bad luck pass you by!
Rustled in the hot foliage: -
Climb into the blue to fall to the ground,
To make noise for years
In blue!

I ran in a hurry
Following the wave
And at the bottom I saw
Colored pebble.
In sunny freckles
In a red belt
He shone, sparkled
On river sand.
From this find
Don't take your eyes off!
What suddenly happened
With a stone on the way?
In the hot wind
The pebble went out
And, flashing in the sun,
From the steep into the river - plop! ..

The rain is pouring across the city