Samuil Yakovlevich Marshak is a creative person who gave us a huge number of poems that are educational in nature. can be found on our website.
And below we offer you wonderful puzzles written with love by a children's poet S.Ya. Marshak.
Riddles S.Ya. Marshak with answers
He makes noise in the field and in the garden,
But it won't get into the house.
And I'm not going anywhere
As long as he goes.
What is in front of us:
Two shafts behind the ears
In front of the wheel
And a saddle on the nose?
Blue house at the gate.
Guess who lives in it.
The door is narrow under the roof -
Not for a squirrel, not for a mouse,
Not for the spring tenant,
Talking starling.
News is flying in through this door
They spend half an hour together.
The news does not stay for a long time -
Flying in all directions!
She got down to business
She screamed and sang.
Come on, come on
Oak, oak,
broke
Tooth, tooth.
We always walk together
Similar as brothers.
We are at dinner - under the table,
At night, under the bed.
They beat him with a hand and a stick.
Nobody feels sorry for him.
Why are they beating the poor guy?
And for the fact that he is inflated!
Early in the morning behind the window -
Knock, and ringing, and confusion.
On straight steel tracks
There are red houses.
Run to the outskirts
And then they run back.
The owner sits in front
And kicks the alarm with his foot.
Turns deftly
Handle in front of the window.
Where the inscription "Stop"
Stops the house.
Every now and then on the playground
People enter from the street.
And the hostess in order
Gives everyone tickets.
Who, on the run of a pair of clubs,
blowing smoke
pipe,
Carries forward
And myself
Yes, and me with you?
Ask me
How I work.
around the axis
I spin mine.
Its spring and summer
We saw dressed.
And in the fall from the poor thing
They ripped off all the shirts.
But winter blizzards
They dressed him in furs.
Was green, small,
Then I became scarlet.
I turned black in the sun
And now I'm ripe.
Holding on to a cane,
I've been waiting for you for a long time.
You eat me and the bone
Bury in your garden.
On New Year's Eve he came to the house
Such a ruddy fat man.
But every day he lost weight
And finally completely disappeared.
We walk at night
We walk during the day
But nowhere
We won't leave.
We hit right
Every hour.
And you, friends,
Don't hit us!
In Linen Country
Along the River Bed
The ship is sailing
Back, then forward.
And behind him such a smooth surface -
Not a wrinkle to be seen!
Musician, singer, storyteller,
And all - a circle and a box.
In a snowy field along the way
My one-legged horse rushes
And for many, many years
Leaves a black mark.
I am the most lively worker
In a workshop.
I prick that there is urine
Day-to-day.
How I envy the couch potato
What is lying around without use,
I'll pin it to the board
Yes, how I will knock on the head!
The poor thing will hide in the board -
You can barely see his cap.
I just keep walking
And if I do, I will fall.
He is your portrait
Looks like you in every way.
Are you laughing -
He laughs too.
You are jumping -
He jumps towards you.
cry -
He cries with you.
Though he did not leave for a moment
you from the day you were born
You didn't see his face
But only reflections.
We are similar to each other.
If you make faces at me
I make faces too.
I am your comrade, captain.
When the ocean is angry
And you wander in the dark
On a lonely ship
Light a lantern in the darkness of the night
And consult with me:
I will swing, I will tremble -
And I will show you the way to the north.
Standing in the garden among the pond
A column of silver water.
In the hut -
Hut,
On the hut -
Pipe. I lit a torch
Put it on the threshold
Noisy in the hut
Buzzed in the pipe.
People see the flame
And it doesn't extinguish.
I am your horse and carriage.
My eyes are two fires.
Heart warmed by gasoline
Knocking in my chest.
I wait patiently and silently
On the street, at the gate,
And again my wolf voice
Scares people on the way.
Here is a green mountain
It has a deep hole.
What a miracle! What a miracle!
Someone ran out of there
On wheels and with a pipe,
The tail drags behind itself.
From the dungeon a hundred sisters
Released into space
Take them carefully
Rub your head against the wall
Strike deftly one and two -
The head will light up.
My heart friend
In a tea trust, the chairman:
All family in the evening
He treats with tea.
He is a tough guy,
Swallows wood chips without harm.
Although not large in stature,
And puffs like a steam engine.
wooden road,
She goes up slowly:
Whatever step -
That is a ravine.
How did the four brothers go
Somersault under the trough,
Carried me with you
On the pole road.
Marshak riddles*** He makes noise in the field and in the garden,
But it won't get into the house.
And I'm not going anywhere
As long as he goes. (Rain) *** What is in front of us:
Two shafts behind the ears
In front of the wheel
And a saddle on the nose? (Glasses) *** The blue house at the gate.
Guess who lives in it. The door is narrow under the roof -
Not for a squirrel, not for a mouse,
Not for the spring tenant,
Talking starling. News is flying in through this door
They spend half an hour together.
The news does not stay for a long time -
Flying in all directions! (Mailbox) *** She set to work,
She screamed and sang.
Come on, come on
Oak, oak,
broke
Tooth. tooth. (Saw) *** We always walk together,
Similar as brothers.
We are at dinner - under the table,
And at night - under the bed. (Boots) *** They beat him with a hand and a stick.
Nobody feels sorry for him.
Why are they beating the poor guy?
And for the fact that he is inflated! (Ball) *** Early in the morning outside the window -
Knock, and ringing, and confusion.
On straight steel tracks
There are red houses. Run to the outskirts
And then they run back.
The owner sits in front
And kicks the alarm with his foot. Turns deftly
Handle in front of the window.
Where the inscription "Stop"
Stops the house. Every now and then on the playground
People enter from the street.
And the hostess in order
Gives everyone tickets. (Tram)
*** Who, on the run of a pair of clubs,
blowing smoke
pipe,
Carries forward
And myself
Yes, and me with you? (Train)
*** Ask me
How I work.
around the axis
I spin mine. (Wheel) *** Its spring and summer
We saw dressed. And in the fall from the poor thing
They ripped off all the shirts. But winter blizzards
They dressed him in furs. (Wood)
*** Was green, small,
Then I became scarlet.
I turned black in the sun
And now I'm ripe. Holding on to a cane,
I've been waiting for you for a long time.
You eat me and the bone
Bury in your garden. (Cherry) *** On New Year's Eve he came to the house
Such a ruddy fat man. But every day he lost weight
And finally completely disappeared. (Calendar)
*** We walk at night,
We walk during the day
But nowhere
We won't leave. We hit right
Every hour.
And you, friends,
Don't hit us! (Watch)
*** In the Linen country
Along the River Bed
The ship is sailing
Back, then forward.
And behind him such a smooth surface -
Not a wrinkle to be seen! (Iron)
*** Musician, singer, storyteller,
And all - a circle and a box. (Gramophone)
*** In the snowy field on the way
My one-legged horse rushes
And for many, many years
Leaves a black mark. (Feather) *** I am the most lively worker
In a workshop.
I prick that there is urine
Day-to-day. How I envy the couch potato
What is lying around without use,
I'll pin it to the board
Yes, how I will knock on the head! The poor thing will hide in the board -
You can barely see his cap. (Hammer and nail) *** I only keep on the go,
And if I do, I will fall. (Bicycle) *** He is your portrait,
Looks like you in every way.
Are you laughing -
He laughs too.
you jump -
He jumps towards you.
cry -
He cries with you. (Reflection in the mirror) *** Although he did not leave for a moment
you from the day you were born
You didn't see his face
But only reflections. (You yourself) *** We are similar to each other.
If you make faces at me
I make faces too. (Reflection in the mirror) *** I am your comrade, captain.
When the ocean is angry
And you wander in the dark
On a lonely ship
Light a lantern in the darkness of the night
And consult with me:
I will swing, I will tremble -
And I will show you the way to the north. (Compass) *** Stands in the garden among the pond
A column of silver water. (Fountain) *** In the hut -
Hut,
On the hut -
Pipe. I lit a torch
Put it on the threshold
Noisy in the hut
Buzzed in the pipe. People see the flame
And it doesn't extinguish. (Bake)
*** I am your horse and carriage.
My eyes are two fires.
Heart warmed by gasoline
Knocking in my chest. I wait patiently and silently
On the street, at the gate,
And again my wolf voice
Scares people on the way. (Car) *** Here is a green mountain,
It has a deep hole.
What a miracle! What a miracle!
Someone ran out of there
On wheels and with a pipe,
The tail drags behind itself. (Steam locomotive) *** From the dungeon of a hundred sisters
Released into space
Take them carefully
Rub your head against the wall
Strike deftly once and twice -
The head will light up. (Matches)
*** My heart buddy
In a tea trust, the chairman:
All family in the evening
He treats with tea. He is a tough guy,
Swallows wood chips without harm.
Although not large in stature,
And puffs like a steam engine. (Samovar) *** Wooden road,
She goes up slowly:
Whatever step -
That is a ravine. (Step-ladder) *** How the four brothers went
Somersault under the trough,
Carried me with you
On the pole road. (Four wheels) *** Behind the glass door
Someone's heart is beating
Quiet so
Quiet so. (Hours) *** Along the paths, along the paths
He's running.
And give it a boot -
He flies. They throw him up and sideways
In the meadow
They butt his head
On the run. (Ball) *** We caught our river,
They brought her home
Fired up the stove
And swim in the winter. (Plumbing) *** Like a leafless branch,
I am straight, dry, thin.
You met me often
In a student's diary. (Unit) *** There is a boy in my house
Three and a half years.
He ignites without fire
There is light throughout the apartment. He clicks once -
We have light.
He clicks once -
And the light went out. (Electric light bulb) *** I rule a horned horse.
If this horse
I will not put on the fence,
He will fall without me. (Bicycle) *** She lets me in the house
And he gets out.
Locked up at night
She keeps my dream. She is neither in the city nor in the yard
Doesn't ask for a walk.
For a moment look into the corridor -
And back into the room. (Door)
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.
