Open lesson "the formation of patriotism among younger students." Russia is our Motherland. What do we call motherland? And the birch trees, along which the House where we live, We walk next to our mother. Who wrote that we call homeland

Hope Katsar
Summary of the lesson "What do we call the Motherland?"

Pervomaisky: the city of my soul.

What we We call home?

Target: Continue to form the concept « Motherland» , consolidate knowledge about your hometown, teach you to recognize familiar places in photographs, instill love for a small homeland; develop coherent speech, logical thinking.

move lessons: What do we call Motherland? (Place, where were born, live, go to kindergarten; where our moms and dads live, friends) That's right. Word « Motherland» like these words how: "relatives", "relative","native", "native", « dear» .Who are we talking about?

Children: About mom, dad, sisters, brothers.

caregiver: We pronounce these words, and they breathe warmth, comfort and tranquility. Motherland is where we are were born, we live where our house stands, where our friends live, where we are warm and comfortable.

O Motherland composed many poems, songs, proverbs and sayings.

Listen to a poem about Motherland:

What we We call home?

The house where you and I grow up

And birches along the road

which we are walking

What we we call home?

Sun in the blue sky

And fragrant, golden

Bread at the festive table

What we We call home?

The land where we live

And ruby stars

Stars of the world over the Kremlin. (V. Stepanov)

The place where we are were born, and there is our Motherland. not without reason says: "Everyone has his own country". “Everywhere is good, but home is better”. "Own land and in grief is sweet".

We We don't choose our country, but if we had a choice, we would choose these distances, where we live with you now.

Children, our small Motherland is our village.

Remember its name.

Children: Pervomaisky.

caregiver: Children, do you love our village, your Motherland? (answers)

You can only love what you know well. The more we know about our city, the more we will love it, (Watching a film about Pervomaisky).

What buildings are there in our village? What monuments do you remember?

What modes of transport do we have? Where do the villagers work? Where do they do sports? (at the stadium)

And now I suggest you ride a carousel! The game "Carousel".

"One, two, three, take the ribbon" children run in a circle with a ribbon in their hands.

This year our village celebrates its 50th anniversary. And now do not yawn, sing a loaf!

Use, r. n. P. "Loaf"

Who will answer why

So beautiful all around

And where we don't look

Left friend and right friend!

Lots of fun today

The songs are ringing

Because the birthday

Celebrating Kindergarten!

Let's sing a song "Kindergarten!"

In contact with

The old house where he was born, the native yard where he spent his childhood, found his first friends, the school that taught him to love his land, to protect it. Here it is, Russia - an immense country that gave life, caressed and educated its citizen. Poems about the motherland, filled with inexplicable power, pride and respect, sing of the beauty of fields, forests, rivers, the power of people's love for their native land, traditions, and its history.

Download:

I left my home...

I left my home
Blue left Rus'.

The mother's old sadness warms.

golden frog moon
Spread out on still water.
Like apple blossom, gray hair
My father spilled in his beard.

I won't be back soon!
For a long time to sing and ring the blizzard.
Guards blue Rus'
Old maple on one leg.

And I know there's joy in it

Because that old maple
Head looks like me.

I left my home
Blue left Rus'.
Three-star birch forest over the pond
The mother's old sadness warms.

golden frog moon
Spread out on still water.
Like apple blossom, gray hair
My father spilled in his beard.

I won't be back soon!
For a long time to sing and ring the blizzard.
Guards blue Rus'
Old maple on one leg.

And I know there's joy in it
To those who kiss the leaves of the rain,
Because that old maple
Head looks like me.

S. Yesenin

Just think, listen
In the name of "Russia!"
It has both dew and blue,
And radiance and strength.
I would have only one fate
asked -
So that again the enemies do not go on
Russia...

Y. Drunina

What do we call motherland

What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.

What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.

What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.

What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.

What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.

What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.

V. Stepanov

It will change so much that the son ...

It will change so much that the son,
What even the son does not know?

No blond braids
No blue eyes...

Russia is mother
Holy and visible
May your lot be great!
But keep the unique
Your maternal bright face.

It will change so much that the son,
What even the son does not know?

Here he is waiting for a meeting with her,
And suddenly, look, trouble struck:
Neither the former, from childhood sweet speech,
No blond braids
No blue eyes...

Russia is mother
Holy and visible
May your lot be great!
But keep the unique
Your maternal bright face.

N. Starshinov

Grows along the road
goose weed,
And next to the road
Ditch with water.
And all sorts of things
Floats in it
Hiding by the shore
Slumbering at the bottom:
Beetles and leeches
Dragonflies, goats
They don't know peace
Dive, dive,
And small fish
They even happen here.
And grandmother Manya,
Chasing a goat
Said,
Shading eyes from the sun:
- I live in the world
For seventy years
The best here is entih
There are no places in the world.

G. Lebedeva

Smolensk and Tula, Kyiv and Voronezh
We are proud of our past glory.

Everywhere there are traces of the past.

Calls out our past, commanding

Smolensk and Tula, Kyiv and Voronezh
We are proud of our past glory.
Where you can't touch our land with a staff, -
Everywhere there are traces of the past.
The old time gives us treasures:
Dig with a shovel and you will find everywhere -
Here is a forged stirrup in Danzig,
And there - an arrow, red-hot in the Horde.
Buried a lot of rusty steel in the ground
Everyone who feasted with us at a party!
Like a monument stands on a pedestal,
So Rus' stood on enemy bones.
To us, vigilant guardians of ancient glory,
Calls out our past, commanding
So that on the rusty iron of the enemy
And henceforth stood the Russian land!

D. Kedrin

Good morning!

The sun rose over the mountain
The darkness of the night is blurred by the dawn,
A meadow in flowers, as if painted ...
Good morning,
Native land!

Noisily the doors creaked,
The early birds sang
Loudly arguing with silence ...
Good morning,
Native land!

People went to work
Bees fill honeycombs with honey,
There are no clouds in the sky...
Good morning,
Native land!

The sun rose over the mountain
The darkness of the night is blurred by the dawn,
A meadow in flowers, as if painted ...
Good morning,
Native land!

Noisily the doors creaked,
The early birds sang
Loudly arguing with silence ...
Good morning,
Native land!

People went to work
Bees fill honeycombs with honey,
There are no clouds in the sky...
Good morning,
Native land!

G. Ladonshchikov

Russian house

Floors in Taimyr and Anadyr.

What warms us in the cold winter.

There are seven more time zones.

Russia is like a huge apartment.
It has four windows and four doors:
North, west, south, east.
Above it hangs a heavenly ceiling.

Luxurious carpet carpets in the apartment
Floors in Taimyr and Anadyr.
And the sun burns in a billion kilowatts,
Because our house is dark in places.

And, as befits every apartment,
There is in it the Pantry of Siberia:
Various berries are stored there,
And fish, and meat, and coal, and gas.

And next to the Kurilka - the Kuril ridge -
There are hot water taps
Keys bubbling at the Klyuchevskoy hill
(Go and turn on the hot water!)

There are also three cool baths in the apartment:
Northern, Pacific and Atlantic oceans.
And a powerful stove of the Kuzbass system,
What warms us in the cold winter.

But the refrigerator with the name "Arctic",
The automation works great.
And to the right of the ancient Kremlin clock
There are seven more time zones.

Everything is in the Russian House for a comfortable life,
But there is no order in the huge apartment:

A fire breaks out here, a pipe leaked there.
Then the neighbors knock loudly from the corner.
The walls are cracking, then the paint is falling,
Alaska fell off two hundred years ago,
The roof went down, the horizon disappeared ...
Again rebuilding and again repairing.

What they are building, the builders themselves do not know:
First they build, and then they break.
Everyone wants - immediately built so that
Izbu-Chum-Yarangu-Palace-Skyscraper!

We are all neighbors and residents in our house:
Ordinary tenants, building managers, builders.
And what will we build now in Rus'? ..
Ask your mom and dad about this.

A. Usachev

Russia didn't start with a sword!

Russia did not begin with a sword,

But because the Russian shoulder

And arrows ringing battles

No wonder the horse of the mighty Elijah

Out of kindness sometimes not immediately
Retribution was rising. It's true.

And if the hordes prevailed,
Forgive me, Russia, the troubles of sons.
Whenever the strife of the princes,

Yes, you can deceive the hero,

That guarantee is Lake Peipsi,
River Nepryadva and Borodino.

And if the darkness of the Teutons or

That is the current proud Russia

She has overcome hell.
That guarantee - hero cities

That did not humiliate anyone anywhere.

Dawn rises, bright and hot.
And it will be so forever indestructible.
Russia did not begin with a sword,
And that's why she's invincible!

Russia did not begin with a sword,
She began with a scythe and a plow,
But because the blood is not hot,
But because the Russian shoulder
Never in my life has anger touched ..

And arrows ringing battles
They only interrupted her usual work.
No wonder the horse of the mighty Elijah
Saddled was the master of the arable land.

In hands, cheerful only from labor,
Out of kindness sometimes not immediately
Retribution was rising. It's true.
But there was never a thirst for blood,

And if the hordes prevailed,
Forgive me, Russia, the troubles of sons.
Whenever the strife of the princes,
How would the hordes be given in the muzzle!

But only meanness rejoiced in vain.
With a hero, jokes are short-lived;
Yes, you can deceive the hero,
But to win - that's already pipes!

'Cause that would be just as funny
How, say, to fight with the sun and the moon,
That guarantee is Lake Peipsi,
River Nepryadva and Borodino.

And if the darkness of the Teutons or
Batu found the end in my homeland,
That is the current proud Russia
A hundred times more beautiful and stronger!

And in the fight with the most fierce war
She has overcome hell.
That guarantee - hero cities
In the fireworks on a festive night!

And my country is always strong
That did not humiliate anyone anywhere.
'Cause kindness is stronger than war
How disinterestedness is more effective than a sting,

Dawn rises, bright and hot.
And it will be so forever indestructible.
Russia did not begin with a sword,
And that's why she's invincible!

E. Asadov

Russia in the heart is not accidental

Russia in the heart is not accidental,
I went through it on foot.
She rattles the keys in me,
Noisy spring streams,
Above the nests yelling rooks,
Sounds like a shepherd's horn.

Russia! I owe you.
You're all like a church in plain sight.

Put in a common stack!

I serve you day and night
What's hard is nothing.
With his verbal pattern
I lay down on your forehead!

Russia in the heart is not accidental,
I went through it on foot.
She rattles the keys in me,
Noisy spring streams,
Above the nests yelling rooks,
Sounds like a shepherd's horn.

Russia! I owe you.
You're all like a church in plain sight.
By your hand, like a sheaf, I am bound,
Put in a common stack!

I serve you day and night
What's hard is nothing.
With his verbal pattern
I lay down on your forehead!

Russia, Russia, Russia

There is no more beautiful edge in the world
There is no homeland brighter in the world!
Russia, Russia, Russia, -
What can be dearer to the heart?

Who was your equal?
Anyone has been defeated!
Russia, Russia, Russia, -

Russia! Like a blue bird
We protect and honor you
And if they violate the border,
We will protect you with our breasts!

And if we were suddenly asked:
“And what is the country dear to you?”

Like a mother, alone!

There is no more beautiful edge in the world
There is no homeland brighter in the world!
Russia, Russia, Russia, -
What can be dearer to the heart?

Who was your equal?
Anyone has been defeated!
Russia, Russia, Russia, -
We are in sorrow and happiness - with you!

Russia! Like a blue bird
We protect and honor you
And if they violate the border,
We will protect you with our breasts!

And if we were suddenly asked:
“And what is the country dear to you?”
- Yes, because for all of us Russia,
Like a mother, alone!

V. Gudimov

Since the time of Timur and Batu

And rudely humiliated your people.

Your great tragedy

In the animal malice of the father's land

Promises, sword and hypocrisy!

We had a country of the USSR -
Great and proud state.

Solid screamers and demagogues!

And it also had to be broken

And they do not even think to be considered!

To bring a powerful state

She always, dispelling the darkness,

And from resentment, from grief and loss

I don't know if we'll live or not

When will these times come?

You are always so trusting, Russia,
Which, right, is just dumbfounded.
Since the time of Timur and Batu
You, cunning, were tormented by evil forces
And rudely humiliated your people.

Your great tragedy
Secondary in the world is hardly found:
Do you remember how specific princes,
In the animal malice of the father's land
Betrayed to enemies without regret?!

My people are kind! How much have you suffered
From cunning intrigues with your trust!
After all, no one called Rurik to Rus'.
He himself crushed Novgorod with his retinue
Promises, sword and hypocrisy!

And what about the recent past, for example?
What honor, dignity and glory?
We had a country of the USSR -
Great and proud state.

But it can't be allowed,
To live in a country without grief and anxiety!
There were again "specific princes",
And yet, no! What kind of "princes" are there!
Solid screamers and demagogues!

And it also had to be broken
And take away all the strength and wealth,
So that now it’s not something to talk with her,
And they do not even think to be considered!

And how much did it take
Dashing laws, beating angrier than a stick,
To bring a powerful state
To the position of a miserable host!

Yes, Rus' is always trusting. It's like that.
But how many times in history has it happened
No matter how broken, no matter how tyrannical the enemy,
She always, dispelling the darkness,
Like a Phoenix bird, reborn again!

And if so, then, then, and now
All good things will surely happen
And from resentment, from grief and loss
Russia will not be blown to pieces!

And the hour will strike, though fast, though not fast,
When Russia rises to its full height.
Mighty, from the depths to the very stars,
And throw off the shoulders of businesslike packs!

I don't know if we'll live or not
Until these days, my dear people,
But I firmly believe: the light will light up,
But I know for sure: there will be a revival!

When will these times come?
It's not for me to judge. But the clouds will break!
And I know for sure: the truth is lit,
My country will still appear to everyone
And proud, and great, and mighty!

E. Asadov

Here golden-winged angels of God

And the earth was watered with holy water,

Here the warm field is filled with rye,
Here the dawns splash in the palms of the meadows.
Here golden-winged angels of God
Beams of light descended from the clouds.

And the earth was watered with holy water,
And the blue expanse was overshadowed with a cross.
And we have no homeland, except for Russia -
Here is mother, here is the temple, here is the father's house.

P. Sinyavsky

Yes, these rays will not go!

You bloomed blue.

In the spring she kissed my eyelashes.

Blind words of litany.

Powerful, song books.

I hear your roaring call!

You still shine for me!

Is it all the same to me - whether a slave, a mercenary
Or just call you crazy?
You shine ... I'll take a look - and I will remember happiness ..
Yes, these rays will not go!

You are in my passion, and in solemn suffering,
And in a woman's slow gaze was ..
In fields lit, cold and virgin,
You bloomed blue.

You drove autumn through the tearful groves,
In the spring she kissed my eyelashes.
You in stuffy churches repeated after the deacon
Blind words of litany.

You bloomed with lightning behind the cornfield in the summer;
On a winter day, I saw your face in hoarfrost.
You leaned over the pages with me at night
Powerful, song books.

You were and will be .. I was mysteriously created
From the shine and haze of your clouds.
When the starry night splashes over me,
I hear your roaring call!

You are in the heart, Russia! You are the goal and the foot
You are in the murmur of blood, in the confusion of dreams!
And should I stray in this age of impassability?
You still shine for me!

V. Nabokov

Russia, you are a great power,

And there is no other way for you.

We are proud of your cities.

The glorious capital crowns you,
And Petersburg keeps history.

How little we know about you.

Russia, you are a great power,
Your expanse is infinitely great.
For all ages you have crowned yourself with glory.
And there is no other way for you.

Lake captivity crowns your forests.
The cascade of ridges in the mountains conceals dreams.
River flow heals thirst
And the native steppe will give birth to bread.

We are proud of your cities.
From Brest to Vladivostok, the road is open.
The glorious capital crowns you,
And Petersburg keeps history.

In the land of your wealth, the flow is inexhaustible,
The path lies to your treasures.
How little we know about you.
How much we have to learn.

I. Mordovina

Native nest

song swallows
Above my window
They sculpt, sculpt a nest ...
I know, soon in it
The chicks will appear
They will start to vote
They will be parents
Moscara to wear.
Little ones flutter
From the nest in summer
Fly over the world
But they always
They will know and remember
What is in the native land
The nest will greet them
Above my window.

G. Ladonshchikov

native nature

Let's take care of our nature!
And from our caring love.

It will depend only on us.
Don't forget about it now.

And let him praise the anthem of life
Nature!

Come on, friends, in any weather
Let's take care of our nature!
And from our caring love.
The earth will become richer and more beautiful!

Remember adults, remember children!
Remember that the beauty of the planet
It will depend only on us.
Don't forget about it now.
Save the living planet for the people.
And let him praise the anthem of life
Nature!

T. Petukhova

Motherland

hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.

G. Ladonshchikov

Motherland

Has its own native land
By the stream and by the crane.
And you and I have it -
And the native land is one.

P. Sinyavsky

They don't choose their families...

They don't choose their families.
Starting to see and breathe
They receive a homeland in the world
Immutable, like father and mother.
The days were gray, slanting ...
Bad weather chalk street ...
I was born in autumn in Russia,
And Russia accepted me.
Motherland! And joy and sorrow
Were inextricably merged in it.

You were my ally.
Motherland! Tender than the first caress
You taught me to take care
Golden Pushkin's fairy tales.
Gogol's captivating speech,
Clear, spacious nature,

True liberty and freedom

Drunk with restless blood
By the waters of a living spring,
Like frost, burned with love
Russian crazy man.
I love rolling thunderstorms
Crisp and knurled frost,
Sticky life-giving tears
morning shining birches,
Nameless rivers of the bend.
Quiet evening fields;
I stretch out my hands to you
My homeland is one.

They don't choose their families.
Starting to see and breathe
They receive a homeland in the world
Immutable, like father and mother.
The days were gray, slanting ...
Bad weather chalk street ...
I was born in autumn in Russia,
And Russia accepted me.
Motherland! And joy and sorrow
Were inextricably merged in it.
Motherland! In love. In battle and dispute
You were my ally.
Motherland! Tender than the first caress
You taught me to take care
Golden Pushkin's fairy tales.
Gogol's captivating speech,
Clear, spacious nature,
The horizon for hundreds of miles around,
True liberty and freedom
A caring hand is a generous gesture.
Drunk with restless blood
By the waters of a living spring,
Like frost, burned with love
Russian crazy man.
I love rolling thunderstorms
Crisp and knurled frost,
Sticky life-giving tears
morning shining birches,
Nameless rivers of the bend.
Quiet evening fields;
I stretch out my hands to you
My homeland is one.

M. Aliger

Sometimes worn out, they barely ring

Walking through life the way of a soldier,

Yes, just different, as when,

I would probably say:
She is just like my mother!

And then I saw you differently

My first teacher.

When I followed your pointer

You, scolding, suddenly smile

And doomedly closed his eyes?

Dragonflies gossiped with midges:

- It's a pity .. Quite young!

With a basket, scarlet from raspberries.

I looked and I already understood everything:

Intoxicated from bread and milk,
I have long seen from afar

Who are you to help me?

Or the "mistress" of the taiga forests?

I am everywhere, I immediately recognize you

How sorry I am that our proud words
"Power", "Motherland" and "Fatherland"
Sometimes worn out, they barely ring
In the simple vocabulary of everyday life,

I did not sin with this talkativeness.
Walking through life the way of a soldier,
I just loved you from birth
Shy, quiet and very holy.

What have you always been to me?
Probably different at different times.
Yes, just different, as when,
But forever mine and always beautiful!

In some five barefoot years
The world is a street, a soccer ball,
Saber, yes, a blue triangular serpent,
Yes, a dove ripping up the dawn.

And if then I had about
They asked: what kind of Motherland do I represent?
I would probably say:
She is just like my mother!

And then I saw you differently
In the whistle of the blizzard Ural days,
Thin, strict, with a big scythe -
My first teacher.

Life opened up almost like in a fairy tale,
Where every minute a different expanse,
When I followed your pointer
Higher and further into the vast world!

Happen, I'll make you angry sometimes -
You, scolding, suddenly smile
And you will say, shaking my forelock with your hand:
- OK. Let's get better, friend!

Do you remember the meeting in the taiga region,
When, lost, almost without strength,
I sat down on an old dry deadwood
And doomedly closed his eyes?

Sympathetically, the cedars rustled around,
Dragonflies gossiped with midges:
- Left behind the childish mushroom artel ..
- It's a pity .. Quite young!

And then, as if from a Surikov painting,
Illuminated by my own beauty
You took a step, slightly moving the bushes,
With a basket, scarlet from raspberries.

I looked and I already understood everything:
- Are you a city? .. Well, well, it happens ..
We have our own, you see, they stray,
Let's go! And she gave me her hand.

And, sitting at the junction in a rattling train,
Intoxicated from bread and milk,
I have long seen from afar
You, standing in the dawn to the waist ..

Who are you to help me?
It's hard for me to figure it out:
You were indeed a forester's daughter
Or the "mistress" of the taiga forests?

And yet, no matter where I am
And no matter how I live now, and before,
I am everywhere, I immediately recognize you
Your voice, hands, your smile,
In whatever clothes you would appear!

E. Asadov

O unyielding tongue!
Why would it be simple - a man,
Understand, he sang before me:
- Russia, my homeland!

But also from the Kaluga hill
She opened up to me
Far away - distant land!
Foreign land, my homeland!

Distance, born like pain,
So homeland and so
Rock that is everywhere, through the whole
Dal — I carry it all with me!

The distance that moved me near,
Dal, who said: "Come back

Taking me off my seats!

Not without reason, doves of water,
I furrowed my forehead.

You! I will lose this hand of mine,
At least two! I'll sign with my lips
On the chopping block: strife my land -
Pride, my homeland!

O unyielding tongue!
Why would it be simple - a man,
Understand, he sang before me:
- Russia, my homeland!

But also from the Kaluga hill
She opened up to me
Far away - distant land!
Foreign land, my homeland!

Distance, born like pain,
So homeland and so
Rock that is everywhere, through the whole
Dal — I carry it all with me!

The distance that moved me near,
Dal, who said: "Come back
Home!". From all - to the mountain stars -
Taking me off my seats!

Not without reason, doves of water,
I furrowed my forehead.

You! I will lose this hand of mine,
At least two! I'll sign with my lips
On the chopping block: strife my land -
Pride, my homeland!

M. Tsvetaeva

spring,
cheerful,
eternal,
kind,
Tractor
plowed
happiness
sown -
All in front of her
From South
to the north!
dear motherland,
Russian motherland,
Mirnaya-peaceful
Russian-Russian…

V. Semernin

In that distant
In that Don village

Each reed has a bee...

Motherland!
Simple and great.

Strictly you looked at me ...

And then,
Calling to the harsh edges,

On the thin, young me.

I didn't drink milk for many years.
Only you, my land,
Didn't believe
What did I change for you?

I went through everything:
difficult roads,
Evil libel and bitter misfortune

A dusty swan in a ditch.

I'm with you again
The land is spacious
Where behind the wedge of the old stubble

My homeland is quiet;

Where hangs over the hut
Red month;

Each reed has a bee...

I remember: under the shade of old cherries
In that distant
In that Don village
Bees lived in reed roofs -
Each reed has a bee...

Motherland!
Simple and great.
In early childhood, keeping from trouble,
Ancient Arkhangelsk faces
Strictly you looked at me ...

And then,
Calling to the harsh edges,
Where in the spring you will not find greenery,
Life has loaded a hundred-pound rails
On the thin, young me.

I dug ore in the Far North.
I didn't drink milk for many years.
Only you, my land,
Didn't believe
What did I change for you?

I went through everything:
difficult roads,
Evil libel and bitter misfortune
To touch with your fingers again
A dusty swan in a ditch.

I'm with you again
The land is spacious
Where behind the wedge of the old stubble
Under the mountain stands the village of Podgornoe -
My homeland is quiet;

Where hangs over the hut
Red month;
Where in the transparent weightless haze
The bees sleep under the reed roof -
Each reed has a bee...

A. Zhigulin

It is deeper than the seas, higher than the heavens!

Mom and dad, neighbors, friends.

Sunny bunny in the palm
Lilac bush outside the window
And on the cheek a mole -
This is also homeland.

Motherland is a big, big word!
Let there be no miracles in the world,
If you say this word with soul,
It is deeper than the seas, higher than the heavens!

It fits exactly half the world:
Mom and dad, neighbors, friends.
Dear city, native apartment,
Grandma, school, kitten... and me.

Sunny bunny in the palm
Lilac bush outside the window
And on the cheek a mole -
This is also homeland.

T. Bokova

If they say the word "Motherland",
Immediately comes to mind
Old house, currants in the garden,
Thick poplar at the gate.

By the river there is a shy birch
And chamomile hillock ...
And others will probably remember
Your native Moscow courtyard ...

In the puddles the first boats
Above the rope, the stomp of feet
And a big neighboring factory
A loud joyful horn.

Or the steppe is red from poppies,
Golden whole…
Homeland is different
But everyone has one!

If they say the word "Motherland",
Immediately comes to mind
Old house, currants in the garden,
Thick poplar at the gate.

By the river there is a shy birch
And chamomile hillock ...
And others will probably remember
Your native Moscow courtyard ...

In the puddles the first boats
Above the rope, the stomp of feet
And a big neighboring factory
A loud joyful horn.

Or the steppe is red from poppies,
Golden whole…
Homeland is different
But everyone has one!

Z. Alexandrova

native country

In a wide area
predawn time
Scarlet dawns rose
over the native country.

Every year it gets better
Dear lands...
Better than our Motherland
Not in the world, friends!

In a wide area
predawn time
Scarlet dawns rose
over the native country.

Every year it gets better
Dear lands...
Better than our Motherland
Not in the world, friends!

A. Prokofiev

On my drawing
field with spikelets,
Church on the hill
Close to clouds.
On my drawing
Mom and friends
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
beams of dawn,
Grove and river
Sunshine and summer.
On my drawing
stream song,
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
Daisies have grown
Jumping along the path
horse rider,
On my drawing
rainbow and me
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
Mom and friends
On my drawing
stream song,
On my drawing
rainbow and me
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
field with spikelets,
Church on the hill
Close to clouds.
On my drawing
Mom and friends
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
beams of dawn,
Grove and river
Sunshine and summer.
On my drawing
stream song,
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
Daisies have grown
Jumping along the path
horse rider,
On my drawing
rainbow and me
On my drawing
My motherland.

On my drawing
Mom and friends
On my drawing
stream song,
On my drawing
rainbow and me
On my drawing
My motherland.

P. Sinyavsky

Hello Russia

Hello, Russia - my homeland!

And there is no singing, but I clearly hear

Hello, Russia - my homeland!

For all the mansions I do not give

How peacefully in my upper room

And the glorious breath of antiquity,

Hello, Russia - my homeland!
Stronger than storms, stronger than any will

Love for you, a hut in an azure field.

Hello, Russia - my homeland!
How happy I am under your foliage!
And there is no singing, but I clearly hear
Invisible choral singing singing ...

As if the wind drove 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.

Hello, Russia - my homeland!
Stronger than storms, stronger than any will
Love for your barns at the stubble,
Love for you, a hut in an azure field.

For all the mansions I do not give
Your low house with nettles under the window.
How peacefully in my upper room
The sun was setting in the evenings!

Like the whole expanse, heavenly and earthly,
Breathed in the window of happiness and peace,
And the glorious breath of antiquity,
And rejoiced under the showers and heat! ..

Hello, Russia - my homeland!
Stronger than storms, stronger than any will
Love for your, Russia, cranes,
Love for you, a hut in an azure field.

N. Rubtsov

Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!

Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!

Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!

Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!

S. Drozhzhin

Great name - Russia

Such a beautiful name - Russia!

What a beautiful name - Russia!
We are kinder and stronger with this name.
In it is the wind of hope and front-line days,
And the rustle of birches, and the sadness of cranes.

Years pass over my country.
Years pass over a great destiny,
And if we are worth something in life,
It's only because our hearts are with you.

Such a beautiful name - Russia!
The blizzard forest and the silence of the fields.
I carried this name in my heart,
When I parted with my Russia.

Such a beautiful name - Russia!
She gave us her good nature.
All my life I only asked fate for one thing,
May Russia be happy forever.

A. Dementiev

Song of Glory

Hail, great
multilingual
Fraternal Russian
Peoples family.

Stay surrounded
Armed
ancient stronghold
The gray Kremlin!

hello darling,
unshakable
banner flowing
Mind light!

Glorious grandfathers,
Brave grandchildren
friendly Russian
Peoples family.

Strengthen with victories
Explore the sciences
Forever imperishable
Glory to the earth!

Hail, great
multilingual
Fraternal Russian
Peoples family.

Stay surrounded
Armed
ancient stronghold
The gray Kremlin!

hello darling,
unshakable
banner flowing
Mind light!

Glorious grandfathers,
Brave grandchildren
friendly Russian
Peoples family.

Strengthen with victories
Explore the sciences
Forever imperishable
Glory to the earth!

Again I thought about the Motherland

Again I thought about the Motherland,
Where the quinoa freezes in the dew,

The star is getting colder in the morning.

There are black shadows in the oak forest
And a white garden above the shore.
And you can not think about fame
And listen to the leaves fly...

There are red bushes of reeds,
It is probably well known
Is our soul immortal?

Again I thought about the Motherland,
Where the quinoa freezes in the dew,
Where in the old mossy well
The star is getting colder in the morning.

There are black shadows in the oak forest
And a white garden above the shore.
And you can not think about fame
And listen to the leaves fly...

There the river is transparent, like childhood.
There are red bushes of reeds,
It is probably well known
Is our soul immortal?

A. Zhigulin

Oh Russia! With a difficult fate, the country ...

Oh Russia!
With a difficult fate, the country ...
I have you, Russia,
Like a heart, alone.
I will tell a friend
I will tell the enemy
Without you,
Like without a heart
I can't live...

Y. Drunina

About the Motherland, only about the Motherland

A melody full of light and tears?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

Longing for birds flying away for the winter?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

Motherland, only Motherland.

Motherland, dear Motherland.

About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

And the best songs are yours and mine -
About the motherland, only about the motherland ...

And my thoughts, and my prayers -
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

What is this song of weeping birches about,
A melody full of light and tears?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
What is beyond the cold granite borders
Longing for birds flying away for the winter?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

In moments of sadness, in times of adversity
Who will take care of us and who will save us?
Motherland, only Motherland.
Whom in the bitter cold we need to warm
And in hard days we should regret?
Motherland, dear Motherland.

When we leave for interstellar flight
What is our earthly heart singing about?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
We live in the name of kindness and love,
And the best songs are yours and mine -
About the motherland, only about the motherland ...

Under the scorching sun and in the snow dust
And my thoughts, and my prayers -
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.

R. Gamzatov

What is my homeland called?
I ask myself a question.
The river that winds behind the houses

Is that autumn birch over there?
Or spring drops?
Maybe a rainbow stripe?
Or a cold winter day?

But it will all be nothing
Without mother's care dear,
And I'm not the same without friends.

So that's what is called the Motherland!
To always be by your side

Who needs me too!

What is my homeland called?
I ask myself a question.
The river that winds behind the houses
Or a bush of curly red roses?

Is that autumn birch over there?
Or spring drops?
Maybe a rainbow stripe?
Or a cold winter day?

Everything that has been around since childhood?
But it will all be nothing
Without mother's care dear,
And I'm not the same without friends.

So that's what is called the Motherland!
To always be by your side
Everyone who supports will smile,
Who needs me too!

E. Trutneva

Oh Motherland!

Oh Motherland! In dim light
I catch with a quivering gaze
Your clearings, copses -
Everything that I love without memory:

And the rustle of the white-trunked grove,
And the blue smoke in the distance is empty,

And a low mound with a star...

My hurts and forgiveness
They will burn like old stubble.
In you alone - and consolation,
And my healing.

Oh Motherland! In dim light
I catch with a quivering gaze
Your clearings, copses -
Everything that I love without memory:

And the rustle of the white-trunked grove,
And the blue smoke in the distance is empty,
And a rusty cross above the bell tower,
And a low mound with a star...

My hurts and forgiveness
They will burn like old stubble.
In you alone - and consolation,
And my healing.

A. Zhigulin

vast country

If long, long, long
In an airplane we fly
If long, long, long
We look at Russia
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...

We will see the distance without edge,
Tundra where spring rings
And then we'll understand what
Our country is big
Immeasurable country.

If long, long, long
In an airplane we fly
If long, long, long
We look at Russia
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...

We will see the distance without edge,
Tundra where spring rings
And then we'll understand what
Our country is big
Immeasurable country.

V. Stepanov

Our Motherland

And beautiful and rich
Our Motherland, guys.
Long drive from the capital
To any border.

Everything around is own, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
rivers sparkling blue,
Blue skies.

Every city
dear to the heart,
Every rural house is expensive.
Everything in battles is once taken
And strengthened by labor!

And beautiful and rich
Our Motherland, guys.
Long drive from the capital
To any border.

Everything around is own, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
rivers sparkling blue,
Blue skies.

Every city
dear to the heart,
Every rural house is expensive.
Everything in battles is once taken
And strengthened by labor!

G. Ladonshchikov

My motherland

I will draw the fields and the snake of the river.

I'll take a pencil and draw a house
I will draw the sky and the sun above it.
So that it is warm for those who live in the house,
I'll draw a pipe with smoke coming out of it.

I'll take a pencil and draw flowers
I will draw bushes and trees around.
So that there is always freshness in this garden,
I will draw rain from caring hands.

I'll take a pencil and draw a forest
I will draw the fields and the snake of the river.
So that peace and tranquility be on this Earth,
I'll draw a dove flying in the sky.

T. Travnik

Moscow, Russia

Two words: Moscow and Russia, -
Two calls: Russia - Moscow, -
Whom on earth I don't ask
Everyone knows these words! ...

Russia started from Moscow

Moscow defended itself from enemies,
Moscow flaunted from the face ...

How little did she endure
Raids and troubles without end!
But the stubborn strength grew stronger
Moscow people-creator.

Suffered, burned, empty -
You will not meet an answer to a shout -
And again sparkled, shone,
Forgetting all evil for the last.

People flocked under her wing,
Rise up to great labors,
And again - residential buildings,
And again - trade rows.

We can compete with strength
We are not looking for someone else's good, -
To master his wealth,
Raise yours to the top!

Two words: Moscow and Russia, -
Two calls: Russia - Moscow, -
Whom on earth I don't ask
Everyone knows these words! ...

Russia started from Moscow
Like a swan's scream - from a chick.
Moscow defended itself from enemies,
Moscow flaunted from the face ...

How little did she endure
Raids and troubles without end!
But the stubborn strength grew stronger
Moscow people-creator.

Suffered, burned, empty -
You will not meet an answer to a shout -
And again sparkled, shone,
Forgetting all evil for the last.

People flocked under her wing,
Rise up to great labors,
And again - residential buildings,
And again - trade rows.

We can compete with strength
We are not looking for someone else's good, -
To master his wealth,
Raise yours to the top!

My home area

I go out to the balcony
I see a park and a stadium
cinema, library,
Church, clinic, pharmacy,
music school,
Offices are mirrored.
Also an ice palace.
And the mall is brand new
And my high school
Where I study with imagination.
I go out to the balcony
Hello,
My home area!

A. Smetanin

My house is in the woods
Among blueberry belts.
Among the fields, among the roads
You will find its threshold.

Among underground springs,
Where the sun beats from the fetters
Among the resin, among the oak forests
He stands among the fragrant herbs.

A star fell over the pond
And I was friends with her for a month.
Let me never be there
But only there - I lived.

My house is in the woods
Among blueberry belts.
Among the fields, among the roads
You will find its threshold.

Among underground springs,
Where the sun beats from the fetters
Among the resin, among the oak forests
He stands among the fragrant herbs.

A star fell over the pond
And I was friends with her for a month.
Let me never be there
But only there - I lived.

He said, "Come here

Leave Russia forever.
I will wash the blood from your hands,
I will take out black shame from my heart,
I will cover with a new name
The pain of defeat and resentment.

But indifferent and calm
I covered my ears with my hands
So that this speech is unworthy
The mournful spirit was not defiled.

I had a voice. He called comfortingly
He said, "Come here
Leave your land deaf and sinful,
Leave Russia forever.
I will wash the blood from your hands,
I will take out black shame from my heart,
I will cover with a new name
The pain of defeat and resentment.

But indifferent and calm
I covered my ears with my hands
So that this speech is unworthy
The mournful spirit was not defiled.

A. Akhmatova

There is no better homeland

Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.

We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!

Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.

We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!

P. Voronko

The best in the world

Russian region, my land,
Native spaces!
We have rivers and fields,
Seas, forests and mountains.

We have a north and a south.
Gardens bloom in the south.
In the north of snow around -
It's cold and blizzard there.

The moon looks out the window.
Far East at the same time
Rise to greet the sun.

From border to border
And a fast train straight ahead
Doesn't fit in a week.

Words are heard on the radio -
The long journey is not difficult for them.
Your familiar voice, Moscow,
Heard by people everywhere.

And we are always glad to hear the news
About our peaceful life.
How happy we live
In your own homeland!

The nations are like one family,
Although their language is different.
All are daughters and sons
Your beautiful country.

And everyone has one homeland.
Hello and glory to you
invincible country,
Russian state!

Translation from Ukrainian
Z. Alexandrova

Russian region, my land,
Native spaces!
We have rivers and fields,
Seas, forests and mountains.

We have a north and a south.
Gardens bloom in the south.
In the north of snow around -
It's cold and blizzard there.

In Moscow they go to bed now
The moon looks out the window.
Far East at the same time
Rise to greet the sun.

Russian region, how great you are!
From border to border
And a fast train straight ahead
Doesn't fit in a week.

Words are heard on the radio -
The long journey is not difficult for them.
Your familiar voice, Moscow,
Heard by people everywhere.

And we are always glad to hear the news
About our peaceful life.
How happy we live
In your own homeland!

The nations are like one family,
Although their language is different.
All are daughters and sons
Your beautiful country.

And everyone has one homeland.
Hello and glory to you
invincible country,
Russian state!

Translation from Ukrainian
Z. Alexandrova

N. Zabila

native land

Cheerful forest, native fields,
Winding rivers, flowering slope,

And bell ringing.

I merge.

My native land
My love.

Cheerful forest, native fields,
Winding rivers, flowering slope,
Hills and villages, free space
And bell ringing.

With your smile, with your breath
I merge.
Boundless, guarded by Christ,
My native land
My love.

M. Pozharova

What is our Motherland!

Gardens, thinking, stand.
What a beautiful motherland
She herself is like a marvelous garden!

The river plays with rifts,
In it the fish is all made of silver,
What a rich motherland
Do not count her goodness!

The wave runs slowly
The expanse of fields caresses the eye.
What a happy motherland
And this happiness is everything for us!

An apple tree blooms over a quiet river.
Gardens, thinking, stand.
What a beautiful motherland
She herself is like a marvelous garden!

The river plays with rifts,
In it the fish is all made of silver,
What a rich motherland
Do not count her goodness!

The wave runs slowly
The expanse of fields caresses the eye.
What a happy motherland
And this happiness is everything for us!

And the day of the war light is heavy, -
If you are a plowman
Give her everything like Minin
Be her Suvorov
If you are a warrior.

In the hour of testing
Bow to the Fatherland
In Russian,
In the night,
And tell her
— Mother!
You are my life!
You are dearer to me than life!
With you to live
With you - to die!
And no matter how long
And the day of the war light is heavy, -
If you are a plowman
Give her everything like Minin
Be her Suvorov
If you are a warrior.
Love her, swear like our grandfathers
Mountain to stand for her life and honor,
To say in the desired hour of victory:
- And there is a drop of honey here.

D. Kedrin

Thought about Russia

Russia is spread wide
Russia endured many troubles:
They attacked her from the east
With a fiery blizzard of the Tatars,

The Livonians marched like a wall against her.
“Now,” they frightened her, “

Where did the German foot set foot ... ".

Militia thorny Minin,

The swarthy hand of Tsar Ivan
She beat the crusaders on the cheeks.
And they drew on the steppe yarugi

Golden Fist Ivan the Great...

And Andrei Rublev painted icons,
Russians with blue eyes
They went to the beast with a horn,

They sang the harp of the prophetic Bayan

And Moscow grew on the ashes,
Like a golden dovecote...

Now sharpens crooked teeth again

The will to take away our share,
So that we don't sing our songs

To our little guys

And we will not become his slaves!

The Russian river will drown him...
Do not drink the Don's helmet to the enemy!
Russian banners will not bend!

To remain from the filthy horde
Only nameless barrows

Russia is spread wide
Russia endured many troubles:
They attacked her from the east
With a fiery blizzard of the Tatars,
From the west, eclipsing the sun with shields,
The Livonians marched like a wall against her.
“Now,” they frightened her, “
We will crush you into the sand with our feet!
Wait, they say: nettles will grow,
Where did the German foot set foot ... ".

The sentinel beat in the beat in a fire,
Warriors ran to the greyhound horses,
Brought out under the Russian blue sky
Militia thorny Minin,
From Polish and Tatar captivity
Rescued Don Rus' with Pozharsky,
The swarthy hand of Tsar Ivan
She beat the crusaders on the cheeks.
And they drew on the steppe yarugi
Kites above them circle after circle,
They pecked on shaky roads,
Crows in monastic black cassocks,
And uplifted over the beaten enemy clique
Golden Fist Ivan the Great...

A peasant sowed rye in the ports of pastures,
And Andrei Rublev painted icons,
Russians with blue eyes
They went to the beast with a horn,
Fedka Horse, subduing a violent temper,
He built the miraculous White City,
The bowl was smoldering in the mica window,
The girls went to whiten their canvases in the sun,
They sang the harp of the prophetic Bayan
The glory of past battles, and Rus' stood,
And Moscow grew on the ashes,
Like a golden dovecote...

Now sharpens crooked teeth again
Enemy to the Russian land. He wants again
Lay out the bones of us in the military field,
The will to take away our share,
So that we don't sing our songs
Owned neither land nor forest,
To attract a horde of Teutonic drunks
Our wives in tents, like polonyanok,
To our little guys
Bows made humpbacks,
So that only wanderers wandered barefoot
Do not be such a shame, brothers!
To the places where Russia used to be...

Let's get breasts! Let's fight to the death!
Let's take out the enemy! I'll stab you with a bayonet!
Let's sew a bullet! Let's kill with a drekol!
Let's trample into the ground! Let's bite our teeth
And we will not become his slaves!
The hawk will show us the wing of the enemy,
Rustling grass will tell about him,
The distance will lure, will give out horse stomp,
The Russian river will drown him...
Do not drink the Don's helmet to the enemy!
Russian banners will not bend!
We will fight so that it can be seen:
There is no stronger Russian force in the world!
To remain from the filthy horde
Only nameless barrows
So that, as of old, stood majestically
Mother Russia, our life and glory!

D. Kedrin

Goy you, my dear Rus' ...

Goy you, my dear Rus',
Huts - in the robes of the image ...
See no end and edge -
Only blue sucks eyes.

Like a wandering pilgrim,
I watch your fields.
And at the low outskirts
Poplars wither loudly.

Smells like apple and honey
Through the churches your meek Savior,
And buzzes behind the hillside
There is a cheerful dance in the meadows.

I'll run along the wrinkled stitch
To the freedom of the green lekh,
Meet me like earrings
A girlish laugh will ring out.

If the holy army shouts:
"Throw you Rus', live in paradise!",
I will say: “There is no need for paradise,
Give me my country."

Goy you, my dear Rus',
Huts - in the robes of the image ...
See no end and edge -
Only blue sucks eyes.

Like a wandering pilgrim,
I watch your fields.
And at the low outskirts
Poplars wither loudly.

Smells like apple and honey
Through the churches your meek Savior,
And buzzes behind the hillside
There is a cheerful dance in the meadows.

I'll run along the wrinkled stitch
To the freedom of the green lekh,
Meet me like earrings
A girlish laugh will ring out.

If the holy army shouts:
"Throw you Rus', live in paradise!",
I will say: “There is no need for paradise,
Give me my country."

S. Yesenin

Russian anthem

Be, Russia, always Russia

If we are not, be!

On par with the Russian song.

We have everything in Russia.

Russians, together we are strong.

If we are not, be!

Be, Russia, always Russia
And do not cry, crouching on the chest of others.
Be free, proud and beautiful
If we are not, be!

We were born in the most snowy country,
But in the most tender country,
Not sinless, true, but boundless,
On par with the Russian song.

Is conscience in a camp grave?
Both courage and honor will live.
For us to be happy
We have everything in Russia.

Russians, together we are strong.
Separate us just to shake off the planet.
God bless you, Russia,
If we are not, be!

E. Evtushenko

Majestic Motherland

I want to glorify the Motherland.
In the whole world there is no more wonderful
She can handle any business.

It's a hot day in Yalta
in Norilsk - a blizzard -
That's the scope of my country!
But she - from north to south -
Fits in our hearts.

And not without reason the whole planet sees,
And not without reason the whole earth sees,

Give the stars of the ancient Kremlin.

We will always be faithful to her.
Sunny, bright pages
Let's write in the biography of the country!

The best, most sonorous song,
I want to glorify the Motherland.
In the whole world there is no more wonderful
She can handle any business.

It's a hot day in Yalta
in Norilsk - a blizzard -
That's the scope of my country!
But she - from north to south -
Fits in our hearts.

And not without reason the whole planet sees,
And not without reason the whole earth sees,
How many people of festive light
Give the stars of the ancient Kremlin.

Let's be proud of our country
We will always be faithful to her.
Sunny, bright pages
Let's write in the biography of the country!

M. Plyatskovsky

Gratitude

From spring barley
For the fact that I am prolonged young
Thank you, Russian land!

For the song of your plain,
For the generosity of your table,
For the kindness of your Arina,
That lived next to Pushkin,

For the ageless harp,
Ringing like a clear day
For the lake of glassy sadness

For the songs of the streets and backyards,
And for the accordion on the rise,
And for the salty, strong voice
In the barracks and on the marinas.

Thank you Russia
For the breadth of your fields,
For carrying me
Under my mother's heart!

For bread, for hops, for salt, for malt
From spring barley
For the fact that I am prolonged young
Thank you, Russian land!

For the song of your plain,
For the generosity of your table,
For the kindness of your Arina,
That lived next to Pushkin,

For the ageless harp,
Ringing like a clear day
For the lake of glassy sadness
With a beautiful name - Ilmen.

For the songs of the streets and backyards,
And for the accordion on the rise,
And for the salty, strong voice
In the barracks and on the marinas.

Thank you Russia
For the breadth of your fields,
For carrying me
Under my mother's heart!

Blows something native and ancient

Blows something native and ancient
From the vastness of my land.

Like distant ships.

Walking along the narrow path,
I repeat - once again! —
“It’s good that with a Russian soul
And she was born on Russian soil!

Blows something native and ancient
From the vastness of my land.
Villages float in the snowy sea,
Like distant ships.

Walking along the narrow path,
I repeat - once again! —
“It’s good that with a Russian soul
And she was born on Russian soil!

Y. Drunina

Where does the Motherland begin?

A responsible and difficult task is to educate a patriot. A child's feelings for the Motherland begin with relationships in his family, in love, respect for the closest people - mother, father. Admiration for native landscapes, culture, traditions causes amazement, a response in the young soul, smoothly taking root that connects with an invisible thread with the stepfather's house.

It is impossible to teach or impose love for one's country on a child. A quivering, deep feeling arises as one grows up, gets acquainted with the amazing history of one's native land, the richness of a powerful language in the work of Russian poets and writers. After all, it was poems about the motherland, like nothing else, that retained the special traits of the character of a Russian person with their inherent moral values, breadth of soul, hard work and loyalty. Acquaintance with patriotic works introduces children to universal values, representing the richest source of cognitive moral development. The main thing is not just to transfer knowledge, but to take care of the education of the soul, to lay the seed that generates the personality.

It smells of apple and honey My dear Rus'

How much love, light sadness, desperate pain for one's land contain the patriotic verses of the classics. Often written far from home, they are saturated with deep longing for Russia in every line. Poems about the motherland, where sounds, smells, voices, and events of past years familiar from childhood, echo in the heart of every reader.

Sergei Yesenin dedicated poems to his native land more than others. In simple words, similar to an oath of allegiance to his beloved woman, he admires rural landscapes - spiked meadows, the harmony of birches, the boundlessness of fields. Alexander Blok describes his patriotic affection somewhat differently. The beauty and greatness of Russia are described through the female image, the beautiful features of the girl, in her worries, tears, kindness, sensitivity. Neither the reigning poverty, nor the sheer injustice to the social strata detract from the poet's boundless love for the Motherland. The great singer of the beauty of his native land, F. Tyutchev, like no one else, could see the spiritualized wildlife, feel how the azure sky laughs, or hear the languid, light noise of crimson leaves.

The theme of feelings for the fatherland can be found in many works. Like a red line, patriotic works pass through the work of A. Pushkin, A. Fet, V. Mayakovsky, N. Nekrasov, M. Tsvetaeva, M. Lermontov and many others. Warm love, pride in the strength of the spirit, the beauty of the Motherland - this is the main idea in the works of classical poets. You cannot love your country without understanding your people, without loving and following their traditions, without experiencing joys and hardships with them.

Native side, Motherland, Fatherland...
You pronounce these words - and a spark of love and warmth flares up in your heart. After all, this is how we call what is especially dear to us: the land where we were born and where our childhood passed, the parental home, the country in which we live. And the memories that we keep all our lives come to life in our memory: the warmth of mother's hands, the taste of grandma's pie, the forest across the river, daisies by the porch. That is why in the soul of each person lives his own, only close to him understanding of what a homeland is.
What do we call motherland

What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.

What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.

What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.
(V. Stepanov)
me and us

So many words in the world
Like snowflakes in winter.

But let's take these for example:
The word "I" and the word "We".

"I" in the world is lonely,
There is not much use in "I".
One or one

It's hard to deal with adversity.

The word "we" is stronger than "I".
We are family and we are friends.
We are a people and we are one.
Together we are invincible!
(V. Orlov)
Respect bread!

What on earth is more precious than bread?

What diamond compares to it?

In it - the smell of arable land, the tenderness of the sky.

And the whole life fed by him.

More than any wealth

Spikelet growing in the field.

And there is no worse sacrilege

Than a thrown piece of bread!

(D. Popov)
I'm proud of my Russia!

Motherland begins with memory,
With reverence for their origins,
From the coat of arms, the anthem, the Russian banner,
With respect to the precepts of the saints.

Starts with Russian history
What did Nestor the monk describe,
Blagovest with steppe expanses,
Caps of the one that Monomakh wore.

The Motherland begins with Pushkin,
Wonderful tales, that there is only one charm,
Villages with their crooked huts,
Where the old is still alive.

Motherland begins from childhood,
With maternal, paternal love,
School desks, flowery bouquets,
What did we bring to the teacher?

Lines of the Constitution

Majestic and simple words
One Law of the whole Fatherland,
Granting the main rights:
Work, enjoy life.

We remember everyone who, having passed the banner,
We were bequeathed that everyone is related by blood
And with a line of rights obtained in battles,
And with the line: "The citizen is obliged to ..."!
(A. Bobrov)
Devotion

History has one
The indisputable law:
Who is devoted to his homeland -
In the fight will not be defeated!
(S. Vurgun)

Most important words

My friend, through the years and days
Keep in your heart
Native words from childhood:
MOTHER,
RUSSIA,
MOSCOW.

Joy will come or trouble -
Don't ever forget
The most sacred words in life:
VERA,
HOPE,
LOVE.
(D. Popov)

Lullaby for a little Russian

Hush, Little Baby, Do not Say a Word,
I sing a lullaby
For my son to fall asleep
He closed his eyes.

Little one needs to sleep
To be the strongest
To accumulate power,
To love the Motherland.

The stars are burning in the sky
And they tell my son to sleep
The wind sings a song
Dreams are cheerful.

Let the son dream dreams
From the native side
About a boat on the river
Yes, about the bee on the flower.

About endless fields
Yes, about the songs of the nightingale,
About daisies in the meadow
Yes, about the rainbow-arc.

Hush, Little Baby, Do not Say a Word,
You grow up in your native land,
Carry light songs
You are all over Holy Rus'!

Serve faithfully to the Motherland,
Treasure Russian honor,
Like the sun, shine
To not let the fathers down.

You save, my Earth,
Your hero!
Soon my son will grow up
It will bring a lot of happiness!
(M. Volkova■ )

Children of the World, hold hands!
You can hug the globe of the earth.
Stop the wars on Earth!
The world is subject to children's voices.

Dear boys and girls,
Teach adults to live peacefully.
Baby, beautiful little hands,
Try to save our world.

Our children, be brave!
Take a seat at the helm!
You will become a team, growing up,
Our Earth ship.

He will float on the waves of the universe,
Happiness illuminating everything around.
The horror will be forgotten by the military,
And misfortune and fear will go away.

The world will become better and brighter
In the colors of cute children's eyes,
People will become cleaner and kinder.
Children! We hope for you!
(A. Gavryushkin■ )
For peace, for children

Anywhere in any country
Guys don't want war!
They will have to enter into life soon,
They want PEACE, not war
The green noise of the native forest,
They all need a school
And the garden at the peaceful threshold,
Father and mother and father's house.
There are many places in the world
For those who live accustomed to work.
Our people raised their powerful voice
For all children, for peace, for work!
Let each ear ripen in the field,
Gardens are blooming, forests are growing!
Who sows bread in a peaceful field,
Builds factories, cities,
The one for the children of the orphanage
Will never wish!
(E. Trutneva)
Unusual pedestrian

Who is walking down the street?

Unusual pedestrian.

He has five hundred names:

At the factory he is a locksmith,

In a manger - he is a parent,

In the cinema - the spectator,

And came to the stadium -

And he is already a fan.

He is someone's son and grandson,

For someone close friend.

He is a dreamer in the days of spring,

He is a protector in the days of war.

And always, everywhere and everywhere -

CITIZEN OF YOUR COUNTRY!

(R. Sef)

Coat of arms of Russia

Russia has a majestic
Double-headed eagle on the coat of arms
To the west and east
He could look right away.
He is strong, wise and proud.
He is the free spirit of Russia.
(V. Stepanov)

Flag of Russia

White color - birch,
Blue is the color of the sky.
Red stripe -
Sunny dawn.
(V. Stepanov)

native flag

In the blue sky over Moscow
Our dear flag flies.
In every Russian village
You will see the native flag.

Our Russian flag is painted
In white, blue, red.
He trembles in the clear sky,
And there is nothing more beautiful.

White is a symbol of peace, truth
And spiritual purity.
Blue - loyalty and faith,
Selfless kindness.

The pain of the people, the blood of the dead
Reflects red.
We will love our country
And keep her out of trouble.
(S. Zaitseva)

Russian flag

Three colors Russian flag.
Each color is a sign for all of us.

There is a red color on the flag,
He is warmed by heroism.
Perseverance, sacrifice, courage -
The meaning of this flag color.

The blue color on the flag is loyalty,
Firmness of spirit, immutability,
kindness, simplicity,
That people appreciated forever.

White is purity
Nobility, height.
Hello bright angels
Means white.

Three colors Russian flag.
This banner is valuable!
He is in the capital above the Kremlin,
He warms everyone with his warmth.

This is the flag of love, victory.
Storms and troubles are not terrible with him.
Rus' stands under the banner
In trials, like granite.

Ancestors strong in the fight
They announce themselves.
So, we will stand
Dear motherland sons.

We have a true banner -
We will not falter in a terrible hour!
(E. Kuchbarskaya)

Motherland

(G. Ladonshchikov)

Motherland

Motherland is a big, big word!
Let there be no miracles in the world,
If you say this word with soul,
It is deeper than the seas, higher than the heavens!

It fits exactly half the world:
Mom and dad, neighbors, friends.
Dear city, native apartment,
Grandma, school, kitten... and me.

Sunny bunny in the palm
Lilac bush outside the window
And on the cheek a mole -
This is also homeland.
(T. Bokova)

Key words

Learned in kindergarten
We are beautiful words.
They were first read:
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.

Spring and summer will fly by.
Leaves become sunny.
Illuminate with new light
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.

The sun shines kindly on us.
Blue is pouring from the sky.
May they always live in the world
Mom, Motherland, Moscow!
(L. Olifirova)

What do we call motherland

What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.

What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.

What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.
(V. Stepanov)

Municipal educational institution secondary school No. 8 of the city of Norilsk

“What do we call Motherland?

The house we live in"

(Class hour for elementary school students)

Primary school teacher Demenskaya Lidia Alekseevna

2015

“What do we call Motherland? The house we live in!

Dear Guys! You were born in a country called Russia! You are Russians! Russia is a huge country! It spread freely from the snows and ices of the Far North to the southern seas. We have high mountains, full-flowing rivers, deep lakes, dense forests and endless steppes. There are also small rivers, bright birch groves, sunny meadows, ravines, swamps and fields. Russia is located immediately in Europe and Asia.

Questions:

What country were you born in?

Which country are you a citizen of?

Do you know the capital of Russia?

What city do you live in?

We are proud of our great Motherland, its nature, its hardworking and talented people. But each of us has our own Little Motherland - that corner of the earth where you were born, where you spent your childhood, where your parents and friends live, where your home is located. For some, a small homeland is a small village or village, for others it is a city street and a cozy green courtyard with a swing, a sandbox and a wooden slide. It could be a grandmother's house in the countryside. There is nothing more beautiful than this corner of Russia. In a word, everyone has their own small Motherland!

And nothing on earth can be closer, sweeter than a small homeland. Each person has his own small homeland.

My small motherland

MY – because here is my family, my friends, my house, my street, my school…

SMALL – because it is a small part of my vast country.

MOTHERLAND - because people close to my heart live here.

Small Motherland.

Small Motherland -

An island of earth.

Currant under the window

The cherries have blossomed.

curly apple tree,

And under it is a bench -

Affectionate little

My motherland!

Small Motherland

And in the native land and birches are different,
And fragrant lilacs, greener than poplars.
Many places on earth, only in our Russia,
Everyone can find a corner according to their heart.

Maybe somewhere, in the forest, in an open field, maybe
Maybe by the ocean, on a wild rock,
A person will lay the foundation of his life ...
And he will build his own house, the best house on earth.

And he will bring his wife into the house, without a mistress it is empty,
And the child will be born, as expected, on time ...
In their great homeland, with the name Rus,
He will call the small Motherland, that corner.

And wherever he was thrown by fate,
And no matter what roads were passed after,
The man will know behind his back,
There is always a strong rear - his small homeland.

( Nikolay Turchenkov)

I think I will not be mistaken if I say that many of you have your favorite green meadow near the house or by the lake. Here, under the supervision of your mother or grandmother, you play with friends, admire the first spring flowers, watch the leisurely flight of an important bumblebee or motley butterfly. When you become adults, the memory will surely return you to serene days, to the sunny meadow of your childhood.

Field of childhood.

Glade of childhood! How far are you...

Only in my memory you remained:

With a winding overgrown river,

With a weeping willow that bent over her.

With a high silky spikelet

With the innocent look of a white daisy,

With a cozy house-tower of a snail.

We all have a glade of childhood.

On it, carefree crumbs frolic,

Joy hovers over her, laughter flows.

It has bright sources of our life!

Questions:

Tell us about your "meadow of childhood."

What flowers grow on it?

What trees and bushes surround it?

What games do you play with your friends in this clearing?

Why do you think childhood is called “the morning of life”?

Right! Because Morning is the beginning of the day, and childhood is the beginning of life. The child has his whole life ahead of him! With its discoveries and joys, difficulties and worries. Childhood is the most carefree and happiest time of life. Maybe that's why they call it "golden" ?!

"Golden Childhood"

Why do we call

Our childhood golden?

Because we are playing

We have fun and play pranks.

Because it surrounds

We care about the family,

Because they love

Us relatives and friends!

Questions:

Why is childhood called the "golden time of life"?

Tell us about the most interesting and memorable events of your childhood.

What poems, songs, stories about childhood do you know?

What do you think, is there something in common between the words "parents" and "Motherland"?

What do you especially like in our city?

Fizminutka:(children show all movements with their hands)

"There is a lump on the stump

What is a small animal?

He opens the thorns

Yawns very wide

Washes the muzzle

And ruffles the bangs!

Outcome:

What is RODINA for a person? What he considers his homeland: the country in which he lives; the house where he was born; a tree at the native threshold; the place where his ancestors lived? Probably, all this is the motherland, that is, the native place.

Homeland begins with the fact that you suddenly understand: Russia will not live without you, and you will not live without it. You need her, and she needs you - that's the whole secret. And no other country can replace it, because Russia is dear to you, and all the rest are a foreign land, even the most beautiful one. Homeland is where you are always expected, understood and loved.

The word "Motherland" comes from the ancient word "Rod", which denotes a group of people united by blood relationship.

PARENTS are the father and mother to whom children are born.

RELATIVE - a relative, a member of the genus.

RELATIVES - relatives.

PEDIGREE - a list of generations of the same genus. People are proud of their pedigree, study it

MOTHERLAND is both the Fatherland, the country, and the place of birth of a person.

PEOPLE - a nation, the inhabitants of a country.

Almost every word is dear and close to our hearts and marks the beginning of all life on earth: family, fatherland, stream, sea. My family, my home, a small homeland begins with this.

A person is born to live, and the main place in his life is occupied by family, work, service to the Fatherland. Your own mother, the house where you were born and raised, childhood friends, favorite books and games, nature - such simple, warm, human values become the basis of true love for the Motherland. They belong to each of us, it is impossible to take them away under any circumstances, because they are stored in the very heart.

About how carefully the Russian people have always treated their Motherland, it is said in the proverbs: Motherland is a mother, know how to stand up for her. To live is to serve the Motherland. A man without a homeland is like a nightingale without a song. Where someone is born, there he came in handy.

Life scatters people in many corners of the Earth.

But, wherever we are, your native land will always be for us that bright light that will call us to our native land with its bright light.

Any self-respecting person, any citizen of Russia should know the history of his country and his kind.

Be proud of the people who glorify your country.

Be proud that you are a citizen of the great multinational Russia!

Exercise: "Let's save everything beautiful on the planet"

Children tell what they would save on our planet Earth.

Fresh air

Transparent rivers

Blooming meadows

eared meadows

ancient forests

Birds and animals

Springs and lakes

And what is dear to you in our hometown, what would you like to keep? (park, monuments, museum, trees, river, forest, lakes…)

THE SNOWFLAKES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND LIGHT AS THE PETALS OF A CHAMOMILE ARE PERFECT, LIKE A LINE WRITTEN IN CHALK ON A BOARD, WE ARE TALKING NOW ABOUT THE COLOR:……. THEY PAINTED IN: …….(BLUE) RUSSIA WAS SURVIVED MANY WARS AND OUR GRANDFARS DID NOT IN VAIN AND LOYALTY TO THE HOMELAND LEAD THEM TO GLORY UNDER THE BANNER OF VICTORY BRIGHTLY …..(RED) In order to understand what the colors of our flag mean, I suggest for you to complete a small task. From the poetic passages, determine what color they are talking about and try to understand what it means.

1. Russia is our sacred power, Russia is our beloved country. Mighty will, great glory - Your property for all time! Chorus: Hail, our free Fatherland, the age-old union of fraternal peoples, the folk wisdom given by the ancestors! Hail country! We are proud of you! 2.From the southern seas to the polar region Our forests and fields spread out. You are the only one in the world! You are the only one - God-protected native land! Chorus: 3. A wide scope for dreams and for life The coming years open up to us. Our loyalty to the Motherland gives us strength. So it was, so it is, and so it will always be! Chorus: Anthem of Russia Music - Georgy Alexandrov, new text - Sergei Mikhalkov.

If for a long, long, long time In the plane we fly. If we look at Russia for a long, long, long time, Then we will see And forests, and cities, Ocean expanses, Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ... We will see the distance without edge, Tundra, where spring rings, And then you will understand what our homeland is big, vast country.

People in the Caucasus love Music and dancing. Dzhigits ride on horseback without fear. People in the Caucasus like to make jewelry. Local villages are famous for coinage. People in the Caucasus like to drink kefir-airan. Puts on a burka Shepherd on a long journey. In the Caucasus they love sweet grapes. Here the owner of the guest, As a native, is happy. In the Caucasus

He buzzes in the forest hut, In the cities among the steppes... Not infrequently Pushkin regaled his friends with tea. The commander, Prince Suvorov drove him behind him. Our samovar sniffed gunpowder, I saw the fortress of Ishmael. He buzzes without getting tired, Two hundred years in a row. The samovar is a living soul - A friend of fun, a fairy tale brother.

Russia - My Motherland, You are beautiful and many-sided. Your fields, forests, meadows And on the river plain I praise the glare! The Russian Federation consists of 21 republics, 7 territories, 48 regions, one autonomous region, 9 autonomous regions. Russia is a multinational country.

Russia is a great country with a rich and glorious history. We are citizens of a multinational country who should be proud of their country, its traditions and cultural heritage. To love and in moments of danger to defend our Fatherland. You are the children of Russia - you are the hope and future of our country. Jew and Tuvan, Buryat and Udmurd, Russian, Tatar, Bashkir and Yakut. Different peoples are a big family, and we friends should be proud of this. Our common home is called Russia, let it be comfortable for everyone in it. We will overcome any difficulties, and only in unity is the strength of Russia.