Read Trutnev in his native land. Trutneva, Evgenia Fedorovna - In my native land. I commune with my homeland

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Full name of educational institution:(including region and locality) Perm region city of Perm Municipal autonomous educational institution “Secondary school No. 28”

Subject: Extracurricular reading

Topic: Writers of our region for children.

Class: 2

Educational and methodological support:, Boykin reading. Work programs. 1-4 grades. Moscow: Enlightenment, 2013 Lesson developments in literary reading for the educational complex “School of Russia” Moscow: Vako 2013 Literary reading. Textbook. 2nd grade (comp.,) Moscow: Enlightenment, 2013

Lesson time: 45 minutes

The purpose of the lesson: introduce students to the works of Perm writers, with biographies of Perm writers; to develop an interest in books, the desire and ability to consciously choose and read them

Lesson objectives:

Educational

· expand students’ understanding of the literature of their native land,

· learn to work with books,

develop the ability to think and feel,

· formulate a sustainable interest in books,

· develop the habit of in-depth reading.

Developmental

· develop students' speech,

· the ability to understand and verbally express one’s own attitude to a work,

· artistic, creative and cognitive abilities; emotional responsiveness when reading works.

Educational

· cultivate a sense of love and respect for the native land

· enrich moral experience and develop moral feelings of students.

· introduce children to literature as the art of words, to an understanding of what makes literature artistic,

Lesson type: Lesson in learning new knowledge

Lesson format: Lesson - dramatization

Equipment:

An exhibition of books by Perm writers, an exhibition of books written by students, an exhibition of drawings, portraits of writers, a map of the Perm region.

Preliminary work:

Reading stories, fairy tales, poems by Perm writers, illustrating the works you liked, trying out the pen: creating your own books, participating in a poetry competition, meeting with writers: A. Zelenin, A. Polyanskaya

Lesson Plan:

During the classes

1. Organizational moment

2. Setting the goals and objectives of the lesson. Motivation for students' learning activities.

Poem(read by a student in Russian national costume)

« In my native land"

Everything for you in your native land!
You are the happiest person in the world
In the gardens the starlings sing to you,
The May wind is your friend.

Little bunny in sunny spring
It bursts into your window,
How many wild berries are there?
You will collect it in a basket in the summer.

There is sweet honey in the fragrant hive
A bee has been saving for you all summer.
Celebrates the New Year with you
Your forest guest is the Christmas tree.

They are waiting for you in your beloved country
Hiking, games and science.
And they take care of your every step
Her caring hands!

F. Trutneva

Evgenia Fedorovna Trutneva (1884-1959). Famous children's poetess. She was raised by foster parents.
After graduating from the gymnasium in Perm in 1904, she worked in the office of the Perm Railway, as a secretary and class teacher at the Perm girls’ gymnasium named after. Since 1931, she worked at the Pedagogical Institute, first as a librarian, then as a laboratory assistant at the department.

She began writing poetry during her high school years.
During the Great Patriotic War, as the head of the literary department of the Perm Puppet Theater, she wrote for him the plays “Behind Enemy Lines” and “Fairy Tale”. During her lifetime, more than 40 collections of her poems were published: “Gift”, “Snow City”, “Motherland”, “Victory”, “Path”, “Mushrooms”, “In the Native Land”, “Seasons”, “At the Golden Ear ", "My calendar", etc.

Teacher:Perm region, Kama region- this is a large, rich region, part of the country called Russia. To love your land, you need to get to know it, study it. You can study in different ways. This is what various scientists do. And we will try to look at our native Kama region through the eyes of children's writers. Each of them expresses their love for our big and small Motherland in their own way. Let this love find a response in your soul.

3. Updating knowledge.

Teacher: Name the writers of the Perm region and their works that you have read (Children's answers)

Teacher:“Captain Ko-Ko and the Green Glass”, “Yasha Bubenchikov”, “Shoes”, “House with a Bell”, “Stargazer”. Who wrote these works?

4. Primary assimilation of new knowledge.

Biography. Born on January 6, 1928 in the village of Zadorino, Parfenyevsky district, Kostroma region. He lost his father in the early 30s, spent his early childhood in the village with his peasant grandmother, and studied at school at the Nikolo-Poloma station, where his mother worked as a teacher. During the war, he left the eighth grade and worked as a tractor driver, then studied for one year at an art and industrial school in the village of Krasnoye-on-Volga, and in 1946 he moved to the Leningrad Construction College. He combined his studies with work. After defending his diploma, he worked on construction sites in Siberia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Perm. Since 1969, he has been engaged exclusively in creative work for children and youth. Compiled several collections: “Get up, Mitenka!” "Shanezhka" "Door in the Meadow" "Headline" "One Hundred Silver Horses" "Lucky Pearls" Awarded the Order of the Badge of Honor, medals "For Valiant Labor in the Great Patriotic War", "Veteran of Labor". Honored cultural worker. The name is given to the Perm Regional Children's Library.

Return of the Elephant(read by 7 students wearing masks of fairy-tale characters).
Under the scorching sun
From the slope
On the slope
Walking through the mountains
Traveler Elephant.
He crossed all the lands,
I saw all the countries
Swept with a broom
Sidewalks in Madrid,
In Istanbul port
The ships loaded
But everywhere, but everywhere in the house I was sad.
And finally he was completely sad,
I bought a suitcase and got ready for the trip.
And so he walks,
Shakes his ears -
To family and friends
He brings gifts.
And the homeland

Every minute it gets closer,
And the mountain slopes
Lower and lower...
And the journey ends!
And by the bright river
Countrymen greet the Elephant in a crowd.

They hug him and rock him,
And he told them -
Everyone, everyone! -
Gives a gift.
Offers perfume and earrings to the elephant,
Baby elephant - a briefcase with an ABC book and boots,
Giraffe - coat in golden check,
And Hippopotamus has a cap with a pompom.
And everyone is grateful, everyone is completely happy,

But then it comes out:
- Sorry! What about me?
Shouldn't I? -
Suddenly it came out from somewhere
And the gray mouse squeaked pitifully.
And the Elephant immediately became quiet and embarrassed.
- How shameless I am! - he said.
And he took off his jacket,
And he felt his pocket,
And with his trunk he opened the suitcase wide,
And slammed it again
And he sat down next to me,
And sadly said:
- The suitcase is empty!
And everyone became depressed...

But here in full
Behemoth shouted to the sad crowd:
- Just think, woe!
Well, is it worth it, brothers?
Should we worry so much about the Mouse?
After all, we are GIANTS!
And the Mouse is barely visible.
But the Elephant whispered:
- Don't boast, old man.
The mouse is no worse than you, Hippopotamus!
She, the gray one, is also given a gift by hunting.
And I'm correcting my mistake,
I'm leaving friends and family again.

And so he stood up,
I sighed wearily,
He waved his trunk like a hand
And he moved again to foreign lands,
To the distant mountains
And beyond the seas.
He's gone!
And again far from home
Now he washed the streets, now he loaded the ships.
Below him the steamship ladders cracked,
The clouds frightened him with bad weather,
He knew no rest,
No respite
And - I earned a gift for Mouse!
But only now he bought
Not clothes
And not perfume
And the harmonica!
And I played it myself
And he tapped his ears,
And he grunted joyfully,
And he stomped towards the house.
He walked and laughed!
He walked and trumpeted:
- Good gift
I bought it for Mouse!
Now it will be nice and fun for everyone,
Now I'm heading home for good!

Skomoroshina “Great, matchmaker”(two students in costumes of Russian men participate)

Hello, matchmaker!

Yes, I say, great, matchmaker!

Yes, I went to sell a goat.

Well, how is the matchmaker doing?

They gave me three rubles, but it seemed cheap, but I didn’t give it back.

How does matchmaker Vanyukha live?

Yes, I say, how does matchmaker Vanyukha live?

How about sniffing some tobacco? I smelled it recently.

Are you, matchmaker, really overgrown with a beard?

Tobacco - quit? No, matchmaker, I’ve been smelling it for forty years – I’m used to it.

What, the matchmaker, did he marry his son?

I bought a whole bag of turnips.

Is the sleeper good?

Is Snoshka any good?

Not very bad. The winter is long - the guys will eat.

Have you become completely deaf, matchmaker?

No, my son arrived on two, and I on one: I’m getting old and have no strength.

Don't you smell it at all, matchmaker?

A? No, matchmaker, even if it’s late, I’ll go home and not spend the night.

Well, matchmaker, we've talked enough. Goodbye!

Yes, I say, goodbye!

What, come in? OK OK! Now both my son and I will come!

Teacher: Nikita and Bogdan showed us the skomoroshina, and it was recorded by the famous Perm scientist, collector of folklore

Biography

Folk works of folklore have survived to this day thanks to

folklore collectors. One of these scientists was Ivan Vasilievich

Zyryanov. He loved his native land, his native Kama region, and of course his native village of Romanikha, Krasnovishersky district. Ivan Vasilyevich is known as a collector of Ural folklore, songs, ditties, fairy tales, jokes, fables, buffoons in the Kama region. He taught at the Perm Pedagogical Institute. He published several folklore collections: “Vishera ditties.” “Lyrical folk songs”, “Ural ditties about love”, “Cherdyn wedding”, “An old man’s secret”, “Fairy tales”, “Skomoroshins”.

Teacher: Tell me children, do you like riddles?

Biography. More than forty years ago, a book appeared in stores in the city of Perm, the circulation of which was one hundred thousand copies, but it was sold out instantly. It was called “One Hundred Riddles.” It was composed by the Perm poet Boris Shirshov. Boris Valentinovich Shirshov (1923-1973) was born in the Irkutsk region, but most of his life was spent in Perm. He only left here for the front. During the war, Shirshov commanded a machine gun platoon and was wounded. Returned to Perm. All his books were published here.

Riddles from the book by B. Shirshov(read by two students)

If you let him off the leash,

He will fly away from you beyond the clouds. (Balloon)

I walked by the fence barefoot

And she was scalded by green boiling water. (Nettle)

He inhales dust with great desire,

But he doesn’t get sick, he doesn’t sneeze. (Vacuum cleaner)

toothy saw

I went into the thick forest,

I went around the whole forest,

I didn't cut anything down. (Comb)

In black and white
They write every now and then
Rub with a rag

Blank page. (blackboard)

I'm out of the house and out the door
Just took one step,
The door closed behind me
There is no way in front of me.
I'm both at home and not at home,
Between heaven and earth,
Guess what, friends:
Where am I? (On the balcony)

I don't look like a horse
And I have a saddle.
There are knitting needles. They admit
Not suitable for knitting.
Not an alarm clock, not a tram,
But I’m calling just so you know. (bike)

behind the trees, bushes
The flame flashed quickly
It flashed, ran -
There is no smoke, no fire. (fox)

walks across the sky
Painter without brushes.
Brown paint
Paints people (Sun)

Blowing bubbles
Foam climbed to the top -
And he was gone.
It's all gone (soap)

At the halt he helped us:
I made soup and baked potatoes.
It's good for hiking
You can't take it with you. (bonfire)

In our kitchen all year round
Santa Claus lives in the closet. (fridge)

Teacher wrote a lot of poems for adults, but there are also poems that he wrote specifically for children. One of these poems is called “Liars.”(read by two boys dressed as fishermen)

Two fishermen, two liars

We sat above the river.

One of them caught a loach

Pescaria is different.

The bush separated the fishermen,

Spreading, thick,

And the first liar didn’t see

Who was caught by the second one?

The second one couldn’t see it at all,

Whom the neighbor was dragging

And he shouted: “I have a pike perch!”

Almost like a crocodile.

Here first, praising a friend,

Answered: - You are strong!

And I caught a chub!

He's probably as big as a log!

Let me see! - said one

Another said: - Don't you dare!

Don't come near me now

You'll scare away all the chubs!

Let me better wait

I'm your neighbor...

The first one answered: “I won’t let you in.”

Where there is noise, there is no cool...

The sunset faded and faded

Above the forest across the river.

Time to go! - one said.

Let’s go,” said the other.

Don’t hide your catches,

The liars went home...

I walked along the path first,

Behind me is my brother.

Teacher: Look carefully at the portrait. Do you recognize this writer?

Biography of Mamin – Sibiryak Many years ago, a wonderful Russian writer Dmitry Narkisovich Mamin-Sibiryak lived in the Urals. He called himself a Siberian because he knew well and passionately loved his native lands - the Urals and Siberia. The Ural Mountains stretch for hundreds of kilometers. Here in 1852, in the factory village of Visimo-Shaitansk, Mamin-Sibiryak was born. The Mamin family lived modestly. The father was a priest. For many years he taught children for free at the village school. Mitya helped his mother with housework and nursed his younger sister. Mitya dreamed that he would someday talk about the life of the people, write books about his native Urals. Mamin-Sibiryak wrote many wonderful stories for children and teenagers. And although many years have passed since then, their children still read with interest.

5. Primary consolidation.

Guess the riddle, name the fairy tale.(Tasks are read by two students in turn)

Cross-eyed, small, wearing a gray fur coat and felt boots (hare) “The Tale of the Brave Hare...”

In summer he walks without a path near pine and birch trees,

And in winter he sleeps in a den, hiding his nose from the frost (the bear) “The Tale of Komar Komarovich”

There was a pillow with needles lying between the trees,

She lay quietly, then suddenly ran away (hedgehog) “Smarter than everyone else”

A mischievous boy in a gray army jacket

A sparrow scurries around the yard collecting crumbs “The Tale of Sparrow Sparrow”

It flies, squeaks, drags its long legs,

He will not miss the opportunity: he will sit down and bite (a mosquito). "The Tale of Komar Komarovich"

He flies all day, everyone gets bored

The night will come, then it will stop (the fly) “The Tale of How the Last Fly Lived”

Toothy, furry. As soon as he starts eating, he sings a song (the cat) “The Tale of Voronushka”

Who walks around gloomy and hungry in the cold autumn? (wolf) “The Tale of the Brave Hare...”

6. Reflection

Teacher: So our lesson has come to an end. And we will end our meeting with a song.

Song "Hello, my Motherland"(performed by the whole class)

1. In the morning the sun rises,

Calls everyone outside

I leave the house:

“Hello, my street!”

2. I sing on high

The birds sing along with me

The herbs whisper to me on the way:

“Hurry up, my friend, grow up”

3. I respond to herbs,

I answer the winds

I answer the sun:

"Hello, my Motherland"

Bibliography:

1. “Skomoroshiny” - Perm: Book Publishing House, 1984

2. L. Kuzmin “One eccentric walked ...” - Perm Book Publishing House, 1973

3. -Sibiryak Stories and Tales (CompositionMoscow “Children’s Literature”, 1977

4. -Sibiryak “Alyonushka’s Tales” - Moscow “Children’s Literature”, 1986

5. “In the native land” Poems. – Perm: Book publishing house, 1954

6. “One Hundred Riddles” - Perm: Book Publishing House, 1962

7. “Literature of the Kama region” Reader for primary school (comp.,) - Perm: Book World, 2001

8. “Writers of the Perm Region” Bibliographic reference book (compiled) - Perm Book Publishing House, 1985

To narrow down the search results, you can refine your query by specifying the fields to search for. The list of fields is presented above. For example:

You can search in several fields at the same time:

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The default operator is AND.
Operator AND means that the document must match all elements in the group:

research development

Operator OR means that the document must match one of the values ​​in the group:

study OR development

Operator NOT excludes documents containing this element:

study NOT development

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When writing a query, you can specify the method in which the phrase will be searched. Four methods are supported: search taking into account morphology, without morphology, prefix search, phrase search.
By default, the search is performed taking into account morphology.
To search without morphology, just put a “dollar” sign in front of the words in the phrase:

$ study $ development

To search for a prefix, you need to put an asterisk after the query:

study *

To search for a phrase, you need to enclose the query in double quotes:

" research and development "

Search by synonyms

To include synonyms of a word in the search results, you need to put a hash " # " before a word or before an expression in parentheses.
When applied to one word, up to three synonyms will be found for it.
When applied to a parenthetical expression, a synonym will be added to each word if one is found.
Not compatible with morphology-free search, prefix search, or phrase search.

# study

Grouping

In order to group search phrases you need to use brackets. This allows you to control the Boolean logic of the request.
For example, you need to make a request: find documents whose author is Ivanov or Petrov, and the title contains the words research or development:

Approximate word search

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bromine ~

When searching, words such as "bromine", "rum", "industrial", etc. will be found.
You can additionally specify the maximum number of possible edits: 0, 1 or 2. For example:

bromine ~1

By default, 2 edits are allowed.

Proximity criterion

To search by proximity criterion, you need to put a tilde " ~ " at the end of the phrase. For example, to find documents with the words research and development within 2 words, use the following query:

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To change the relevance of individual expressions in the search, use the " sign ^ " at the end of the expression, followed by the level of relevance of this expression in relation to the others.
The higher the level, the more relevant the expression is.
For example, in this expression, the word “research” is four times more relevant than the word “development”:

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To include a value in a range, use square brackets. To exclude a value, use curly braces.

© Andrey Shalamov, 2016

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero

To the readers

Hello my dear! I am glad that by reading my poems, you and I share the love of Great Poetry. This is the second complete collection, the first was released in 2012 and was called “Lyrics. Favorites."

The title of this book, “In my native land, I can breathe freely...” was not chosen by chance; I wanted to say something kind in poetry about my native land, the Nizhny Novgorod region, where I was born and raised. This collection contains poems about the city where I now live, the village where I spent my childhood, a lot of landscape lyrics and observational poems. I love my Motherland, the Nizhny Novgorod region, the beautiful Volga, probably all this determined the choice of works that were included in this collection.

All my poems, and there are already more than 500 of them, can still be found on my page on the Internet on the site “Stihi.ru - a site of modern national poetry”

With kind regards and best wishes, Yours, Andrey Shalamov

You can breathe freely in your native land...

In my native land I can breathe freely
And there is nothing sweeter than those intoxicating smells
Chamomiles with cornflowers, how freely
Carpets of living meadows spread out.

The earth caresses your feet with the silk of herbs,
I love, as if in childhood, barefoot
Wander through the meadows carelessly without a road
To a forgotten world that is so familiar to the soul.

Cow herd in black and white spots
In the hum of sleepy velvet bumblebees,
And the sky is covered in white patch clouds...
And somewhere... at the edge of the forest... a nightingale....

In your native land everything is close and familiar
And there are no miles of rivers and fields,
Where did you run away from home as a boy?
In the distant childhood of my memory...

My city...

My city - you are drunk and a little tired today
From the flow of cars and people who are in a hurry somewhere,
You worked all day today and did a lot,
You, like everyone in the world, also have a soul.

You covered with your houses, warmed many lives,
Gave shelter and protection to holy human love,
You are glorified throughout the centuries, you are simply called Nizhny,
You are tired today, rest by turning off all the lights.

Let the trees serenade you in the night,
Let the warmth warm you from the heated houses,
Sleep peacefully, silence will be your reward,
And on a milky morning the dawn will awaken you with love.

Well, with the first ray - it’s fun again in the vanity of everyday life,
Helping us all to live in soul in unity with you,
We choose our own path, it is complicated and difficult for everyone,
We are your townspeople, our city, our native Nizhny...

Mother Volga, Russian mother...

The gaze caresses the vastness of borders,
You quench all my sorrows,
Light up the sky with light from the lightning.

Volga, shore, water meadows,
Forests and fields one after another,
The sky is expansive, the clouds are painted,
This is my homeland, I grew up here.

Volga, shore, river coolness,
A languid evening... the song of a nightingale,
On a dark night... showers of starfall,
In the morning... in a pink dress... dawn.

Volga, shore, spacious distances,
There is a lot to tell about her,
It was not for nothing that they called her,
Volga is mother, Russian mother.

Today I am again in the white-trunked forest...

Today I am again in the white-trunk forest
Gilding spilled out in the waves of green crowns,
How I love Russia selflessly
The white-trunk miracle is a gift from nature.

I feel good in the forest, peace and quiet
Lulled the soul in the forest cradle,
I'll press my bare head against you
To the white-trunked miracle that was sung in songs.

Give me strength, birch tree, my dear,
All in an intricate pattern of leaves and branches,
The native land is painfully underfoot,
Here is the parent land and the traditions of our ancestors.

Today I am again in the white-trunked forest,
Although I’m not often in the lap of nature,
I rush to the birch paradise with my heart,
Only here can you feel the sweet air of freedom.

Where there is no falsehood and evil, there are no borders and fetters,
Where you can breathe freely, from edge to edge,
I keep love for Russia in my heart,
Dedicating poems to the white-trunk birch.

Carefree traveler

The sky is frozen in gray-blue,
The clouds hung low
It smelled like the inevitable rain,
What was brought from afar.

The bright birches have drooped,
All the leaves on the branches shrank,
They are afraid that thunderstorms will offend them
The pressure of a furious wave.

Clouds are rushing from afar,
A thunderstorm is thundering,
And the wind is squally and powerful
I left the brakes somewhere.

He again riots and dances
On the roofs of huddled houses,
In a thunderstorm he is strong, rude and important,
The owner of the streets and courtyards.

I love fleeting summer
A gust of wind and a thunderstorm,
The heat knocks down the drowsy sleep
The coolness of a rain tear.

Carried away quickly by a strong wind
Leaden formation of rainy clouds,
The city has washed away, stuffy and dusty
Cold rain water.

And then the sun shines brightly,
And the world seemed to have risen,
Forget about the daring wind,
Carefree traveler of heaven...

Dreams in the rain

The sky is blue-black,
In the wet drops of rain,
The cloud is descending
And it crawls towards me.

Covers half the city,
And you can't see a thing,
And the chills from the cold
Let's run. Freeze

Under the canopy of the little shop,
Where do they sell junk?
The seller there is a girl,
We often drink tea with her.

And we chat about the street,
About guys I know
And about the films of Kusturica,
And about the late sunset...

The elements died down in an instant,
And the rains carried away
The sun cast a glare of light,
It became warm again.

And from the shop until the evening
I won't leave again
I will listen to the girl
And dream about something...

Nizhny Novgorod is mine

My Nizhny Novgorod, for me you are, of course, destiny,
Here all the people, and maybe even the walls, will always help me.

I know every stone on the walls of the gray Kremlin,
Here you can breathe freely in the vast expanses of the Volga,
My native land is painfully under my feet,
What will always remind us of the Motherland, faith and duty.

I love my city, it is wonderfully beautiful in its own way,
Walls and towers are reflected in the waters of a powerful river,
And a wonderful motif spreads over the Volga and Oka
That lyrical Sormovo song, dear and homely.

On the green hills the domes are golden with fire,
Protecting the peace of our third Volga capital,
Our main value has always been our deeds,
That history is written page by page in blood.

The steamship whistle will fly over the river wave,
Having scared away flocks of seagulls, whose voice is loud and ringing,
Nizhny Novgorod is my city, glorious and truly dear,
Previously, they simply called you closed and Gorky.

I look with love at the houses frozen in stone,
On the huge bridges that cut through the city like arrows,
My Nizhny Novgorod, where winter is the mistress today,
Nizhny Novgorod is mine, frozen, winter and white.

I commune with my homeland

Our homeland is wonderful,
Lush green forests,
Dal - endlessly heavenly
Forever at the mercy of the winds.
Gold of the endless field
In the waves of tight ears,
Red combine harvester hats,
It’s like there are irons in the fields...
Blue satin cornflower blue
Rivers and boundless lakes,
Meadow, endlessly familiar -
The carpet is full of cute daisies...
The silky rustle of birch trees,
Lightly touched by the wind,
A sketch of our side,
Visible directly from the window...
How I love to enjoy
View of the surrounding plains,
It's like drinking water
The air of the fields and hollows...
It smells like something special
Something that doesn't smell anywhere,
In London, Varna and Lahti -
Everything is different everywhere...
I know I always come back
From the bustle of cities,
I commune with my homeland,
Here is my life and love...

I want your soul to resurrect with love

You and I are slaves
All our habits and our sins,
We are used to living to our fullest, never regretting anything,
Of course we are weak
And we are afraid of wrong steps,
Raising idols into the absurd maw of the mausoleum.

We are afraid of fate
Frankness of stuck together dreams,
Somehow burning through your whole life and turning your soul to stone,
We don't hear the pleas
Leaving blindly into the luxury of palaces,
A frank prayer that the soul sends, regretting.

How is it possible, you and I
Dissolved within days
Our soul has long been crushed into a hundred pieces,
They just became a crowd
Gray mass and it’s more painful
Understand that soullessness is both disgusting and caustic.

Shake yourself off and find
Your strength in a drooping soul,
This power is in love, because it has not disappeared anywhere,
Forgive those who offended you,
Don't look for your life in a mirage,
I want your soul to be resurrected together with love.

“I’ll open the old gate...”

I'll open the old gate
At the dawning hour of the milky dawn,
I'll give you a bouquet of daisies
Collected by me on the edge of summer.

I will hear the cry of a sleepy rooster,
That protected the peace at night,
Horn for the gathering of Pavlushka the shepherd,
Cow funny hero.

We parted only five minutes ago,
And it seems like a century has passed,
I'm drowning in your eyes again,
Beautiful colors calling to the senses.

I’ll press you to my lips, I’ll sigh with tenderness,
The soul will fly like a bird into the sky,
And the heart will listen to silence,
Love given to us together...

Great Poet and Man...

(To Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin)

Forgotten lines of a string...
They will be connected by fog into verses,
Union of elements
Love and loyalty page...

Has Pushkin been forgotten? - Not forgotten
Great and regal, road
His poetry is from God
It pierced our way of life and life.

I dream of getting to Boldino,
Walk through the park and alleys,
With reverence, timidly,
Touching its edges to your heart's content.

Find that oak tree and the chain on it,
Breathe that poet's air
And meet the first ray of dawn,
Washed by the gentle rain.

Great Poet and Man,
He is the son of the Decembrist era,
He is the pillar of Russian poetry
And the Genius of the past forever...

Grandmother

The spindle itself spins tirelessly
And jumps with a light knock on the hut,
Distant years, and I dream about my grandmother,
She played a role in my destiny.

Bent back, calloused hands,
Eyes that were full of love
All the hardships of war, and all the torment of hunger
The weak ones rest on your shoulders.

Volga region, poverty, war and hard times
They bent, but did not conquer the spirit,
And grandma was easy to sing, if only she could sing,
And she sang to support everyone around her.

And that song flowed, flew across the expanses
In spite of war, and famine and misfortune,
She taught us herself: “Don’t believe the talk,
That everyone is unhappy with their fate.”

“There is water in the well, and there is a loaf of bread,
And apples and a field of quinoa,”
And if there is no water, a lot of snow will melt,
The order in the house is simply golden.

And they always lived like this, and there was happiness in the house,
She taught us - “Be kind!”
She loved all her grandchildren and children madly,
But once she told me: “I’m going to die.”

“I am not afraid of death, because you are my inheritance,
I bequeath to you to do good!”
I remember it forever, I remember it from my childhood
Words... simple, spindles... thread...

White sail

White sail on blue azure
Visible to everyone from afar.
He was born out of the storm by the splash of the sea,
He was born like a river from a drop.

You can see the white sail to anyone,
You are driven by a mysterious breeze,
You are rushing across the gray sea
In a halo of sparkling splashes.

You are flying full of the wind of dreams,
Illuminated by the radiance of the day,
Before you is the road of quest,
Won't you take me with you...

Tatiana Malygina
Literary evening “I am proud of my Motherland”

Literary evening"I proud of my homeland»

Goals: to cultivate a sense of patriotism, pride for the country, instill a sense of love for to my native land, cultivate a respectful attitude towards the older generation.

Decor: drawings, poems, stories about Yu's homeland. Yakovlev, collections of poems by A. Tarkhanov, M. Shulgin, M. Vagatova, R. Rugin.

There's a song playing "Where does it begin? Motherland»

Progress of the event.

Leading:

In a big country, every person has his own small corner - a village, a street, a house, where he was born. This is his little one homeland. And from many such small different corners our common, great Motherland.

Motherland starts at your doorstep. She is huge and beautiful.

The homeland is always with you, wherever you live. And everyone has one. How is your mom.

The Motherland is the mother of its people. She is proud of her sons and daughters and takes care of them; and comes to the rescue, gives strength.

We love Motherland. And to love Motherland means living the same life with her.

My native country is wide,

There are many forests, fields and rivers in it

I don’t know any other country like this,

Where a person breathes so freely.

Grigory Lazarev.

The sun of happiness and freedom

Shining my motherland.

Russian, Khanty - all peoples,

We are friends like one family.

Russian, Khanty, Nenets brothers

We are equal in our rights

We are all happy in our arms

Our mother country.

E. Trutneva “In my native land!”

How nice it is to be in your native land!

You are the happiest person in the world.

In the gardens the starlings sing to you,

The warm wind is your friend,

Little bunny in sunny spring

It bursts into your window,

There is sweet honey in the fragrant hive!

How many wild berries are there?

Will you put it together in a basket in the summer?

In the fragrant hive there is sweet honey

A bee has been saving for you all summer.

Celebrates the New Year with you

Your forest guest is the Christmas tree.

They are waiting for you in your beloved country

Hiking, games and sciences,

And they take care of your every step

Her caring hands!

Leading: A. M. Sengepov "Ma muvyam"

Mons lamp anya movie

Ar tahiin wantsum ma.

An pa wantsum tamas muv-

ma samemn isa luv.

Vesum voshn, crucian rapn,

Muipa seing seras pann.

Rat movie, nangat namlem,

Samem husya isa tailem.

Khanty yokhlan boobs movie,

tovi ity sying luv.

Rusyang, hanteng, lehsang muv

Arsar tas si tile luv.

Asev lamp wutang mov:

Wangtang, hulang, tasyang luv

Laskam samup hangeng movie

MA samemn isa luv.

N. Polyakova « my motherland»

-What means: my motherland?

You ask. I will answer:

From the beginning the path of the earth

Runs towards you.

Then the garden will beckon you

Each fragrant branch.

Then you will see an orderly row

Multi-storey houses.

Then the blue bus

And the train is long, long

The train leaves the steppe region

With title: Virgin.

Then the wheat fields

From edge to edge.

All this - Your homeland,

Your native land.

The older and stronger you become,

The more in front of you

She's tempting ways

He will trustfully reveal.

A. Prokofiev

Not in the world Homeland is sweeter.

Sounds "Song about Kazym"

Leading:

I love cedar thickets

And the steep slopes of our native shores

And the sledges follow those leaving

In the silent distances of snow.

Mikul Shulgin

Winter forest

In silver-fire

My cedar forest

His head reached the gray skies.

He's chest-deep in snow,

Like a hare is white.

And it suits him

Moonlight is like chalk.

He's just a forest

He is the universal bridge;

The crowns are here in the ground,

The crowns are there, among the stars.

The forest suddenly froze,

As if waiting for a miracle

There is a long hum going through its trunks.

Chu! Deer running,

Loud talking suddenly.

Hey, sit down, I'll give you a ride!

Hey, don't hesitate, friend!

I. Nikitin “Noise, noise, green forest”

Leading: I. Ernykhov "Ma muvaem"

Vusty karup vanshet,

Nersi hashup ppanat,

Nuvi sayup rapat-

Isa manem moslat.

Lonsin pitum wenshi

Lap qivartum sumat,

Mui Khuramat Veitlan

Tamas yukhat rush!

Nyara pitum sumatle,

Vari honang nangk pai,

Lor vut pelak ehum,

Vasya pa uvang pusl.

Yuhan honang kertat,

Sangkhm khapat vlshat –

Sit ma muvem takhet,

Sama pitum moviem.

Leading: Our country is wide and vast. The nature of our the edges: Plains and mountains, forests and steppes, lakes and rivers

Prokopiy Saltykov "North"

Lakes, lakes,

Lakes without edge,

Blue buckets,

The water is blue.

Yes, the thickets are sparse

They curl up in a flash

May you be poor, north,

Grass and leaves.

May you take me as a friend

Blizzards and blizzards

Snowy land.

And yet, and yet

You're the most loved one.

Severe comrade,

my father darling

"Swans"

Shining with its snowy plumage,

A wild flock is stretching to the north.

I hear in a soft yearning cry,

Apparently, their dear side is dearer to them

A foreign paradise, a cheerful paradise...

Sounds like a comic Khanty "Song about a Mouse"

Leading:

We love to laugh

Ride on sleds on white snow in winter

And honestly, out of the cold

Let's go home reluctantly

May the red sun

There is light in the window for us,

Rays touch the eyes

We are children of the north

On our planet

We have a lot of friends.

Roman Rugin "Thought about the North"

Ivan Surikov "Childhood"

This is my village

This is my home,

Here I am sledding

The mountain is steep.

Here the sled has rolled up,

And I'm on my side - clap!

I'm rolling head over heels

Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And my boy friends

Standing above me.

They laugh merrily at my misfortune.

All face and hands

Snow covered me...

I'm in a snowdrift, grief,

And the guys laugh.

Leading:

Quiz

1. Name ours Motherland?

2. Name our capital Motherland?

3. What do you imagine when the word is said? « Motherland?»

4. Competition "Remember the proverbs"

5. How will you respond to question: "What means my motherland» ?

6. Excerpt from a poem:

Mons lamp anya movie

Ar tahiin wantsum ma.

An pa wantsum tamas muv-

7. Name the writers and poets who write about Homeland?

8. Translate words into Khanty language:

(river, lake, water, sky)

Leading:

T. Teneva "For veterans"

These people are fallen leaves...

They will no longer fly on the branches.

Though the thoughts are wise and beyond the clouds -

Death is obvious and everyday.

They contain fragments of forgotten battles,

They contain excerpts from the book of destinies...

Time cast them from steel.

Is their feat really ridiculous?

They defended it. Rescued. Revived.

All peoples managed to unite.

Where else have they loved the Fatherland so much?

To pay for love with life?

I look into these honest faces

With a feeling of vague guilt.

And I want to bow to the ground

To the generation of terrible war.

Their fatal winds carried:

So, by chance, they brought it here...

Old people are the conscience of Russia

They fall... But they have sprouted in us.

I love you, the epic expanse of the earth,

Your lakes and rivers are blue.

Mountains of darkness and whiteness of the plain,

Tall forest and low grass.

There's a song playing “It’s so great that we are all gathered here”.