Spiridon Dmitrievich Drozhzhin
Spiridon Dmitrievich Drozhzhin was born in the village of Nizovka, Tver province. He spoke very well about his life himself, when he already became a writer, in his poems and in his autobiography.
A little boy from a poor peasant family, he ran with the children along the banks of the Volga, went to the forest for mushrooms and berries, rejoiced in the sun and flowers. In winter, in the cold, he froze in wretched clothes. Here he goes for the first time with his mother to the sexton's school, stands timidly at the door, and the sexton examines him and then puts him in the last row, where the poorest students sit. On long winter evenings, he lies on the stove in his grandmother's hut, watches the girls spinning yarn, listens to songs, fairy tales, stories of some passers-by. Most of all he liked the songs. And later, he repeatedly recalled how often he quietly ran away from everyone to the garden and, sitting under a spreading bird cherry, composed and sang his fairy tale songs.
Only two winters Drozhzhin studied at school. When he was in his twelfth year, his parents sent him to work in St. Petersburg. He entered the "boy" in a tavern - served visitors, washed dishes, floors.
Years passed. Drozhzhin changed many professions, lived in different cities, and was always very poor. He did not have to study further, but he read a lot, fell in love with the poems of Pushkin, Lermontov, Koltsov, Nikitin and especially Nekrasov.
After several years of living in the city, Drozhzhin returned to his native village forever. In moments free from hard peasant labor, he wrote his songs-poems. Drozhzhin tried to write in such a way that the poems were similar to folk songs, so that they were understandable to everyone.
His first poem, “The Song of the Woe of a Good-Follow,” appeared in print when Drozhzhin was twenty-five years old. By this time, he met and became friends with writers who helped him publish the first collection of poems. What did he write about? He himself said it best in one of his poems:
I am for a sincere song
I took the green whisper of the forests,
And the Volga in the midday heat
Dark jets overheard the murmur;
I took bad weather from autumn,
I took happiness from the people
And deep pain...
In the last years of his life, the poet-peasant joyfully welcomed the Great October Socialist Revolution. Drozhzhin began to write new songs:
Gone are the centuries of evil bondage
great people,
And the long-awaited freedom
From the darkness with a clear dawn
Rising over Russian soil.
HEY
Pref no you, 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!
FIRST FURROW
The grandson went to the arable land to his grandfather
In a shirt, barefoot.
He smiled and said:
Hello Grandpa Pahom!
I see you are tired
Teach me how to plow
As in winter, in the hut, it happened,
Well, if you please, if you want
And the strength is in the hands
Learn to be a helper
Old grandfather in the works! -
And Pahom to the plow with love
He brought his grandson by the hand;
Grandson quietly furrow
Followed the horse...
Cheerfully, fun horse
Stepping forward
And the plowman has a heart
So it jumps in the chest.
“Here,” he thinks, “I will plow
This lane, then
Grandfather will sow from the box
Its golden grain;
Thick rye will be born;
And in the spring - grace,
How will she start at dawn
Pour yellow spike;
Will be removed by cornflowers,
Like the sea, noisy
The reapers will come out on the strip,
The sickle will shine in the sun.
We will arrive by cart
And from bound sheaves
We plan a lot on the floor
Golden stacks then!
Long published on the grandson
Grandpa looks gray-haired
And love deeply
Carried out furrow.
IN A PEASANT FAMILY
Childhood is golden
Sad you're gone!
Before me dear,
Sweet village.
Waiting for the summer
With rye and grass
It sleeps, it is dressed
Snow shroud.
Because of the clouds sadly
The sun looks
The wind is light-winged
It makes a pitiful noise.
Walks the street
Santa Claus,
Hoarfrost scatters
On the branches of birches;
Walks with a beard
White shakes,
stomping foot,
Only crackling goes
Ile breathes on the windows
Smoky huts
Yes, he writes patterns
Looking at guys...
Here is the native hut
In that village stands;
Sick on the stove
Grandma is lying
groans, sighs,
Keeping sadness in the heart;
Midnight is coming
See no fire.
Grandmother in the mud
From the evening without sleep:
About the birth son
She thinks.
SPRING KINGDOM
The kingdom of vernal days has returned:
The brook is ringing on the pebbles,
The river roars
And with a cry a flock of cranes
It's flying towards us.
Resin smells from the forests,
Blushing, buds of petals
Breathe suddenly
And millions of flowers
The meadow is covered.
It's a wonderful time!
A mountain fell from my shoulders
oppressive troubles,
I go to work from the yard
I go than light.
Iron plows the earth
And the sun looks cheerful
In the radiance of the day
And everything caresses and lives
Around me.
A black beetle crawls from a mink,
And weaves a transparent network
Yourself a spider
The bee flies and emits
Long sound.
On a blooming flower
A motley moth sits down,
swinging in it,
Until the wind blows
His wing.
Horse fun between
It goes, and the sun, behind the mountain
Ending the day
Already throwing over the ground
Night shadow.
Time to rest! In the villages
Fires lit up in heaven
The moon has risen
Peace in plowed fields
And silence.
INTO DROUGHT
Sorrow and boredom overcame
The unbearable heat torments me,
Yesterday one village burned down,
Today the forest is on fire!
Water on the Volga knee-deep,
The steamboat whistles no more,
Hay has been removed from the fields for a long time,
And the harvest is coming.
My neighbor walks worried:
No hope for harvest
The dues for the whole year are not good,
Even lie down in a coffin and die!
His mistress is unwell
And he asks for bread for the children;
For the debt of the last cow
The fist leads away from the yard.
The poor man looks with a sad look
Around himself, he is a little alive,
And a fist with a mute reproach
The follower shakes his head.
The shadows of the evening are gathering
The air is humid and fragrant,
And washes with dew
Every leaf on the trees.
Birds buried in their nests
And by the river bank
Slightly flickering, lit up
Lights in the village.
Great about verses:
Poetry is like painting: one work will captivate you more if you look at it closely, and another if you move further away.
Little cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of unoiled wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which has broken.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is most tempted to replace its own idiosyncratic beauty with stolen glitter.
Humboldt W.
Poems succeed if they are created with spiritual clarity.
The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish Poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion near a fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not in verses alone: it is spilled everywhere, it is around us. Take a look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life breathe from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.
I. S. Turgenev
For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.
G. Lichtenberg
A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing inside us. Telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He is a wizard. Understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful verses flow, there is no place for vainglory.
Murasaki Shikibu
I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! the visitor asked pleadingly.
I promise and I swear! - solemnly said Ivan ...
Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "The Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from the rest only in that they write them with words.
John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"
Every poem is a veil stretched out on the points of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
The poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times, a whole Universe is certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for someone who inadvertently wakes dormant lines.
Max Fry. "The Talking Dead"
To one of my clumsy hippos-poems, I attached such a heavenly tail: ...
Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea and not a plague!
Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky
Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore drive away critics. They are but miserable drinkers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let the verses seem to him an absurd lowing, a chaotic jumble of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from tedious reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.
Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"
Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing but pure poetry that has rejected the word.
At preschool age children show a certain interest in poetry. After all, they hear all the first stories and fairy tales from their parents also in verse. And this, one might say, is not without reason, since speech delivered in the form of poetry is significantly different from colloquial speech. It is more expressive, filled with vivid images, colorful and emotional. The child easily learns easy forms and clear rhythm of the verse, remembers it and recites it with pleasure by heart. We have prepared for you a selection of some of the the best poems about the spring of Russian poets which can be easily memorized by a child of preschool age.
Poems help train the baby's brain and develop his intellect, and thematic poems about spring will help the child more clearly understand the change of the winter period to warm, sunny spring days. Poems lure children, they remember and read them with great pleasure, but most of all they love poems about nature, about the most beautiful and favorite time of the year - spring. Spring for a child- this is a play of colors of the surrounding world, an endless blue sky, a golden sun, caressing sea waves, green soft and fragrant grass on which you just want to run barefoot. Wonderful poems about the spring of Russian poets, which you will find at the end of the article, have absorbed the best characteristics of this time of year.
Undoubtedly, poems perfectly develop the speech and memory of the child, help him to understand the world around him easier and more fun, especially if these are poems about nature and animals. Poems in the form of riddles contribute to the development of logical thinking, and poems - counting rhymes teach counting.
If you look even deeper, you can see that poems influence the development of rhythmic hearing, which is an important component of musical hearing. By the way, these components develop children's mathematical abilities well.
Already by the age of three, thanks to poetry, the child may well learn to speak in public. Then this skill can be useful to him in school and later life.
When is it necessary to accustom a child to poetry?
The baby remembers the first rhymes already when the mother sings lullabies to him or tells some nursery rhymes.
Classical poems about the spring of Russian poets are rhymed lines. Therefore, the baby, repeating them, involuntarily begins to speak in full sentences. Such a moment is very important, because in everyday life children are too lazy to talk and are limited to one or two words.
We have already spoken about memory, but I would like to add that by memorizing poetry, children use the mechanisms of long-term memory, which they retain until the end of their lives. Memory, like muscles, can also develop. After all, the baby develops physically in order to become healthy and strong in the future. The same thing happens with memory. Therefore, it is necessary to start developing it from an early age.
Frequent repetition of verses It also helps with correct pronunciation. Indeed, in order to observe the rhyme and form, it is necessary to pronounce the words in full. To do this, there are many different tongue twisters that need to be memorized with the baby in order to avoid speech defects in the future.
Together with the child, we learn beautiful poems about the spring of Russian poets.
Integrated lesson on literary reading
in 4th grade.
Lesson topic : Kingdom of the Days.
Lesson Objectives:
increasing the student's interest in the subject being studied through non-standard forms of the lesson;
c improving text skills ;
to develop a positive sense of self in each child;
stimulate the communicative, cognitive activity of children;
develop initiative, curiosity, creative self-expression .
Methodological equipment of the lesson:
musical excerpt from Chopin's "Spring Waltz"
presentation on the topic "Spring"
Technical equipment of the lesson:
a laptop
projector
During the classes:
O organization n th moment . Emotional mood.
Guys, you are finishing the first stage of training. For a whole year we have been preparing for the final certification, the purpose of which is to assess the level of readiness for training in the middle link. So today we will continue to prepare for the final test.
Let's smile at each other. I am glad to see your faces again, your smiles, and I think that today's lesson will bring us all the joy of communicating with each other. I wish you success and creative success.
Knowledge update.
Chopin's music "Spring Waltz" sounds, reading a poem
S.D. Drozhzhin "Spring Kingdom". Viewing a presentation.
The kingdom of vernal days has returned:
The brook is ringing on the pebbles,
The river roars
And with a cry, a flock of cranes is already flying towards us.
Resin smells from the forests,
Blushing, the buds of the petals suddenly sighed,
And the meadow was covered with millions of flowers.
A black beetle crawls from a mink,
And the spider weaves a transparent web,
A bee flies and makes a lingering sound.
On a blooming flower
A motley moth sits down,
And the sun looks cheerfully in the radiance of the day
And everything caresses and lives around me.
After listening to the poem, looking at the slides, what magical country did the author of this poem take us to?
That's right, we are in the spring kingdom.
What is spring? (awakening of nature)
Guys, is it possiblesee spring? (list signs of spring)
Maybe spring feel ? (open the window, breathe in fresh air)
Mikhail Prishvin wrote: “We all become a little deaf in winter, and with the advent of spring, the deaf begin to hear better”
How do you understand this statement? (nature was asleep, and with the advent of spring everything comes to life)
Is it possible hear spring? (birds singing, streams rustle, insects buzz)
Let's try to hear the sounds of spring in the poem by E. Baratynsky
(reading the passage by heart)
Spring, spring! How high
On the wings of the wind
caressing the sunbeams,
Clouds are flying!
Noisy streams! Glittering streams!
Roaring, the river carries
On the triumphant ridge
The ice she lifted!
More trees are bare
But in the groves there is a decrepit leaf,
As before, under my foot
Noisy and fragrant.
Under the sun most soared
And in the bright sky
The invisible lark sings
Congratulatory hymn to spring.
Did you hear spring in this poem? (streams rustle, roaring, the river carries, the noise of last year's leaf, the singing of a lark)listening
The lark sang to us a hymn about the coming of spring.
What does the word "anthem" mean?
And what bird is the first herald of spring?
So, the bird that brings news of the coming of spring. Let's learn as much as we can about the starling. Open page 108, test 35.
Work on the text.
Primary reading of the text by the teacher .
(Students with a pencil in their hands make notes in the text, identify topics in each paragraph)
Prove that we have a text.
What types of texts do you know?
Determine the type of text by content.
Prove it.
Explain the meaning of the title of the text .
How do you understand the wordmessenger?
Pick up words with the same root for this noun
(herald - news)
Specify the words that define the topic of each paragraph .
Why are we doing this work?
Vocabulary work.
Are there words in the text that you do not understand?
What does it mean to "empty the gardens", "onomatopoeia"?
questions on the text.
Describe the starling.
What color are starlings?
Where do common starlings live?
Who is building the nest? And the male?
When do chicks appear?
What harm do wandering flocks do to people?
What time of day does the starling start the song?
How can we help the starling?
4. Physical Minute.
To the tunes of spring
Let's turn to the right, to the left.
Hands up, hands down!
Up! And bend over again!
Right, left head!
Hands up! Before you!
Stomp with your right foot!
Right step. Stay where you are!
Stomp with your left foot!
Turn right to your friend.
Give your right hand to a friend.
5. Using information from the text, answer questions.
Where do starlings go with the onset of autumn?
Which starling builds a nest?
What do starlings eat?
Why do starling songs get shorter and then stop?
Continue the offer:Then suddenly a starling will let go ...
Work in pairs
From the last paragraph, write down three words that cannot be transferred. Determine the number of syllables in them. (transfer rule)
From the fourth paragraph, write out two words with a vowel prefix. Parse them by composition (rule of morphemic parsing)
Mutual verification. Check for correct spelling .
From the last two sentences of the second paragraph, write out two words with an unstressed vowel in the root, checked by stress. Write test words.
Write down a sentence from dictation, find a grammatical basis, write out phrases, draw up a sentence scheme. (regulations)
In the evening he sits on a branch and starts a beautiful song.
6. Generalization on the lesson.
What did you learn useful in the lesson?
What task gave you difficulty?
Which bird sings a hymn to spring?
Which bird is the first herald of spring?
You all worked very well today, I suggest that you evaluate your work in the lesson yourself. There is a sheet of green paper on the board, and multi-colored flowers on the table. If you think that you worked perfectly, to the best of your ability - take it and glue itpink flower ;
If you think you did a good job, takeyellow flower;
If you think that you raised your hands a little, were inactive in the lesson, takeblue flower.
See how our glade blossomed. Soon all the fields will be covered with flowers and will look like our clearing.
The first herald of spring.
Starlings are small and medium-sized birds (body length 18-43 cm). The beak of starlings is straight, sometimes slightly hooked. Legs are strong. In most species, the plumage is dark, brown or black with a metallic sheen (some species are called shiny starlings for their bright plumage). There are species of starlings painted in red, blue and other colors. Males are somewhat larger than females, sometimes more brightly colored. Young birds have duller plumage. Some species have a crest of elongated feathers on their heads.
They arrive in flocks in our area already in February or March, when there is still snow, and are one of the first heralds of spring. Ordinary starlings settle wherever voids can be found, and begin to sing, opening their beaks and spreading their feathers. But most of all they are suitable for birdhouses, thanks to which starlings have become a common species. The nest is built by the female. The starling helps only symbolically, occasionally bringing some kind of building material - straw, dry grass, twigs or feathers. Chicks appear two weeks after laying eggs. After some time, the chicks demand food with a loud squeak near the entrance to the nest. Starlings are very caring parents, both parents feed the chicks.
Starlings are surprisingly omnivorous birds. They feed on the ground, in the crowns of trees and shrubs. They eat insects, spiders, worms, small fruits, seeds, plant sprouts. Destroy harmful insects. In autumn, nomadic flocks can devastate vineyards, orchards, pecking at the fruits of grapes, cherries, cherries. Starlings are never idle. All day they run in the garden along the paths, looking under each leaf, collecting food for the chicks. Every now and then they fly to the birdhouse with prey in their beaks. But even in the most troublesome days of feeding chicks, the starling manages to sing songs. In the evening, he sits on a branch near his birdhouse and starts an unusually beautiful song. What kind of sounds you will not hear in the starling song! Some chicks have developed onomatopoeia. They can imitate the voices of many birds. Then suddenly the starling will let out a nightingale ringing trill, then it will quack like a wild duck. What a craftsman! But the more the chicks grow up, the shorter the songs of the starling become. When the young starlings begin to fly, the whole family leaves the house and the songs of the starlings stop.
As early as August, huge flocks of starlings can be observed migrating, stopping overnight in the thickets around water bodies or in the crowns of trees, before heading to southern Europe and North Africa until next spring.
