White snow fluffy in the air to read. Analysis of the poem Surikov Winter

Surikov's poems about winter are so familiar to us that it seems we have always known them. Just born with them. " Here is my village. Here is my home. Here I am rolling in a sledge on a steep mountain ...". These poems are associated with our Motherland. And although many of us were born and raised in large cities, it seems that these lines are close to everyone. Surikov's poems about winter are extremely accurate and sincere.

From the poem "Childhood"

Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;

Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - bang!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.

All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh!

The poet Ivan Zakharovich Surikov (1841-1880) was born into a family of quitrent serfs. His small homeland is the village of Novoselovo, Yaroslavl province. Ivan Zakharovich did not have a chance to study, but he soon became addicted to reading and began to compose poetry.

From the poem "Winter"

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little -
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

At a certain stage, the Surikovs moved to permanent residence in Moscow. The future poet did not shy away from any work: he worked in a shop, was a bookbinder, compositor. But it was not possible to get out of poverty. Over time, the name of the self-taught poet Surikov became widely known. He published books and appeared in magazines.

From the poem "Frost"

A pale moon looks from the sky,
Like a steel sickle;
Crackling frost in the village
He walks big.

Over fences, over trees
Hangs up an outfit;
Where it goes, diamonds in the snow
They're on fire.

Hat on the side, wide open
Fur coat on the shoulders;
Frost shines like silver
On his curls.

Poems about winter for children

In this selection of winter poems for children of the middle group of kindergarten you will find works by the classics of Russian literature, A. S. Pushkin, N. A. Nekrasov, F. I. Tyutchev, I. A. Bunin, I. Z. Surikov and other domestic poets.

Poems about a cold winter morning, poems about a beautiful winter, poems about a winter road, poems about the beauty of winter nature, poems about winter fun, poems about the first snow. All poems are selected for preschoolers of four and five years old, and those marked with an asterisk are recommended for memorization.

Winter*

I. Surikov

White snow fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest - what a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.


Enchantress Winter ... *

F. Tyutchev

Enchantress Winter
Bewitched, the forest stands,
And under the snowy fringe,
Motionless, dumb
He shines with a wonderful life.

And he stands, bewitched,
Not dead and not alive -
Magically enchanted by sleep
All entangled, all bound
Light chain down…

Is the winter sun mosque
On him his ray oblique -
Nothing trembles in it
He will flare up and shine
Dazzling beauty.

First snow

Ya Akim

morning cat
Brought on paws
First snow!
First snow!
He has
Taste and smell
First snow!
First snow!
He's spinning
Easy,
New,
The guys over their heads
He managed
Down scarf
spread out
On the pavement
He turns white
Along the fence
I crouched on the lantern, -
So, soon
Very soon
The sleigh will fly
From the hills
So it will be possible
Again
build a fortress
In the yard!

By ski*

A. Vvedensky

The whole earth is covered in snow
I'm skiing
You run after me.
Well in the forest in winter:

The sky is bright blue
Spruces, pines in hoarfrost,
Snow sparkles underfoot.
Hey guys, who's behind us?


Winter morning*

A. Pushkin

... Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
In the cloudy sky, a haze hovered;
The moon is like a pale spot
Turned yellow through the gloomy clouds,
And you sat sad -
And now ... look out the window:
Under blue skies
splendid carpets,
Shining in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river under the ice glitters ...

chrysanthemums

I. Bunin

On the window, silver from hoarfrost,
Like chrysanthemums have blossomed.
In the upper glasses - the sky is bright blue
And stuck in the snow dust.

The sun rises, cheerful from the cold,
The window shines golden.
The morning is quiet, joyful and young,
Everything is covered in white snow.

And all morning bright and clean
I will see the colors in the sky
And until noon they will be silver
Chrysanthemums on my window.


A blizzard sweeps...

S. Yesenin

Snowstorm sweeps
White path.
Wants in soft snows
Drown.
The wind fell asleep
On a way:
Don't drive through the forest
Neither pass.


Here is the north, catching up the clouds *

A. Pushkin

Here is the north, catching up the clouds,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The magical winter is coming.
Came, crumbled; shreds
Hung on the branches of oaks;
She lay down with wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
A shore with a motionless river
Leveled with a plump veil,
Frost flashed. And we are glad
Leprosy mother winter.

Blanket

A. Corinthian

- For what, dear,
Does it snow in winter?
- Out of it nature
The blanket is weaving!
- A blanket, mom?
Why is it?!
- Without him in the ground would
It became cold!..
- And to whom, dear,
Looking for warmth in it?!
- For those who have to
winter winter:
little seeds,
grains of bread,
To the roots of blades of grass
Grasses and flowers!..

winter song

3. Alexandrova

white lawn,
Warm sweatshirt.
I'll run skiing -
You catch me!

Bullfinches on the birches
Brighter than the dawn
blue tits,
Snow for gloves!

white track,
Wait a bit.
Someone walks behind a bush
Bunny or cat?

If the cat walks - so be it!
If the hare - do not be afraid!
If a wolf with a bear -
Let's not go further!


Winter night in the village

I. Nikitin

fun shines
Moon over the village;
White snow sparkles
Blue light.
moon beams
God's temple is doused;
Cross under the clouds
Like a candle burning.
Empty, lonely
Sleepy village;
Blizzards deep
Huts skidded.
Silence is mute
In the empty streets
And no barking is heard
Guard dogs.

Childhood (excerpt)

I. Surikov

Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;

Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - clap!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.

All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh! ..

Winter road*

A. Pushkin

Through the wavy mists
The moon is creeping
To sad glades
She pours a sad light.
On the winter road, boring
Troika greyhound runs
Single bell
Tiring noise.
Something is heard native
In the coachman's long songs:
That revelry is remote,
That heartache...


Winter*

Ya Kupala

So recently to us in the window
The sun shone every day.
And now the time has come -
A blizzard took a walk in the field.
Ran away with a ringing song,
She covered everything like a diaper,
Fluffed with snow fluff -
It became empty everywhere, deaf.
The river does not ring with a wave
Under the clothes of ice;
The forest is quiet, looks sad,
Birds are not heard troublesome.

Neater than fashionable parquet ... *

A. Pushkin

Neater than fashionable parquet,
The river shines, dressed in ice;
Boys joyful people
Skates cut the ice loudly;
On red paws a goose is heavy,
Having thought to swim in the bosom of the waters,
He steps carefully on the ice.
Slides and falls; cheerful
Flickering, winding the first snow,
Stars falling on the shore.


Snowflakes

A. Usachev

The hedgehog looks at the snowflakes.
“This,” he thinks, “hedgehogs ...
White, prickly
And besides, they are volatile.

Spider on a cobweb
He also looks at snowflakes:
"Look how brave
These flies are white!”

The hare looks at the snowflakes:
"It's rabbit fluff...
It can be seen that the hare is all in fluff -
He scratches his fur coat at the top.

The boy looks at the snowflakes:
"Maybe it's a joke?.."
He won't understand why
Very fun for him.


Snowflakes

S. Kozlov

Behind the window - a blizzard,
Behind the window - darkness,
Looking at each other
They sleep in the snow at home.

And the snowflakes are spinning
They don't care at all! -
In light dresses with lace,
Bare shoulder.

Teddy bear
Sleeping in your corner
And half an ear listens
Blizzard outside the window.

old, gray-haired,
With an ice stick
The blizzard hobbles
Babo Yaga.

And the snowflakes are spinning
They don't care at all! -
In light dresses with lace,
Bare shoulder.

thin legs -
soft boots,
White slipper -
Ringing heel.


Bullfinches

A. Prokofiev

Run out quickly
Look at the snowmen.
Arrived, arrived
The flock was met by blizzards!
A Frost-Red Nose
He brought them rowanberries.
Well sweetened
Late winter evening
Bright scarlet bunches.

Snowball*

N. Nekrasov

Snow flutters, spins,
It's white outside.
And the puddles turned
In cold glass

Where the finches sang in summer
Today - look! -
Like pink apples
On the branches of snowmen.

The snow is cut by skis,
Like chalk, creaky and dry.
And the red cat catches
Funny white flies.


Cautious snow

V. Stepanov

midnight snow,
He's not in a hurry.
He walks slowly
But knows the snow
What's the same
He will fall somewhere.
And the slower it is
Chagall
The more careful
The softer into the dark
Fell
And U.S-
Didn't wake up.

snow woman

A. Brodsky

We are the snowman
Blinded to glory.
For glory, for glory
For your own amusement.
On us she is black
Looks with eyes
As if laughing
Two coals.
Although worth it
Our woman with a broom
But don't let it show
She is evil to you.
Bucket instead of a hat
We gave her...
With a snowman
The game is more fun.


Snowman

T. Petukhova

Our favorite snowman
Head completely drooped:
The hare carried away into the forest at night
He has a carrot nose!
Don't worry, snowman
We will help in a moment in trouble,
We'll give you a new nose
The nose is good, the nose is spruce!

Winter

V. Stepanov

White path, white.
Winter has come. Winter has come.
I wear a white hat
I breathe white air
My eyelashes are white
Coat and mittens, -
Do not distinguish me in the cold
Among the whitening birches.
Freeze. And a squirrel in silence
Suddenly he jumps into my arms.

Winter on the edge

I. Gurina

At a small, at the Christmas tree
Green needles.
Fragrant, fluffy,
Silver from the snow!

For a cowardly bunny
A cone has fallen from the tree!
He runs along the path
The tail and back flicker.

A fox roams beside
And proud of his tail.
On a high snowy slope
Elk horned, as in the crown!

On green branches
hoarfrost bleached
Like scarlet beads
Bullfinches are small.

The edge is flooded with sun,
Squirrel, red girlfriend,
Came to visit the Christmas tree
Yes, I brought nuts.


All year round. January

S. Marshak

Opening the calendar
January begins.

In January, in January
Lots of snow in the yard.

Snow - on the roof, on the porch.
The sun is in the blue sky.
Stoves are heated in our house,
Smoke rises into the sky.

I know what to think

A. Barto

I know what to think
No more winter
So that instead of high snowdrifts
Green hills all around.

I look into the glass
Green colour,
And immediately winter
Turns into summer.

Winter

E. Rusakov

Until March, the ponds are chained,
But how warm are the houses!
Wraps gardens in snowdrifts
Careful winter.
Snow falls from birches
In drowsy silence.
Summer frost paintings
Draws on the window.

Ivan Zakharovich's poem "Winter", written in 1880, reveals two related themes - this is the solemn arrival of winter, which has entered into its legal rights, and a description of rural life.

At the beginning of the work, the author vividly describes the snowfall. A picture looms before the readers, like snow, swirling in flakes, lays down in a veil. The personification of winter by Surikov is very colorful, despite the predominance of the white color of this season.

Using metaphors, the poet notes the peace and tranquility of nature. The dark forest, so majestic, covered with a hat of snow, falls asleep soundly and soundly. Ivan Surikov had the ability to admire nature. Even seemingly simple lines at first glance carry a philosophical meaning. The author also considered it charming that the sun was not shining enough, the days were short, the frosts had come.

Despite the seemingly simple stanzas of the poem, upon careful analysis, one can see that there are sentences with complicated homogeneous members with an allied and allied connection “falls, lies down”, “strongly, unawakeningly”, “winters and colds”, “blizzards and blizzards ". But, this does not in the least prevent pupils of secondary educational schools from studying this work of Ivan Zakharovich.

The poem "Winter" is the poetry of landscape lyrics. However, Surikov describes rural life with restraint. Since the poet himself was born in the family of a serf, he is familiar with the originality of the villagers. Thus emphasizing the close relationship between man and nature.

With restraint and simplicity, Ivan Surikov describes a peasant preparing a sled. Even in winter, the villagers have plenty of worries, for example, firewood. It is also necessary to insulate the hut with straw from the upcoming frosts. The poet is also touched by the fact that, despite the snowfall, frost and snow, the children are building snow slides for skiing.

The rhyme of the poem most clearly conveys the essence of this season and the direct participation of nature and man. The reader is presented with a picture in the form of a village with fields surrounded by forest. And all this splendor is covered with fluffy snow. Surikov managed to convey all the romance of a frosty morning in his work.

Also in the poem there are artistic techniques. For example, the metaphor “here the frosts came”, “evil frost, angry”.

Surikov is considered one of the brightest poets, representing a direction, such as peasant poetry, that appeared in the 19th century.

Analysis of Zim Surikov's poem

Analysis of I.Z. Surikov's poem "Winter" Ivan Zakharovich Surikov is a poet who wrote during - peasant poetry. In his poems, he praised village life. Ivan Surikov was born into a poor peasant family. His works stand out for their simplicity and consonance. Surikov wrote the poem "Winter" in 1880, shortly before his death. The poet died in poverty, but once did not complain about his life, because he believed that he had an unusual opportunity - to become a good poet.

The theme of the poem is the onset of winter. It comes after the onset of the first frost. A work written in landscape lyrics, it contains ideological reflections on the meaning of life, since everything is dependent on nature. All transformations occurring in nature must be accepted jubilantly, revel in every moment. The poet described the way of life of the peasants. On a frosty and sunny winter day, they still work hard. They need to go for firewood, to the winter forest, without which they cannot live in the cold winter. True, the villagers, long before the onset of winter, took care of their homes, covered the huts with straw in order to protect their homes during the winter cold. However, the kids are fun and spacious in the snowy cold winter season. The main idea of ​​the work of I.Z. Surikov - praise of village life, which is so familiar to the peasant.

The work is distinguished by its original sound, originality of images and naturalness of the syllable. The poem has eight stanzas. Each of them contains four lines. The work is depicted in iambic trimeter, it has a rhyme (stress on the penultimate syllable). Surikov's work "Winter" is saturated with picturesque images. For example, he uses the metaphor of frost that is angry and angry, the forest that has fallen asleep, the frosts have come. In the second stanza, the sonorous "l", "n" are repeated, that is, the poet uses personification.

This poem touched my soul. I somehow felt the splendor and originality of the winter picture of rural life with the author. I admired the snowfall, the white snow-covered endless fields, the enchanting forest. Together with the inhabitants of the village, an unusual, cold winter day was lived, when the peasant takes care of the comfort in the huts, and the kids have fun, having fun making snowballs with snow.

5, 3rd grade according to the plan, briefly

Picture for the poem Winter

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We offer you beautiful winter poems by Ivan Surikov. Each of us from childhood knows well poems by Ivan Surikov about winter while others read them to their children and grandchildren. These works are included in the school curriculum for different classes.
Short Ivan Surikov help not only to develop speech and memory, but also to get acquainted with the beautiful season of winter.

Verse by Zim Surikov

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field turned white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.

For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.

To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.

He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid

Evil frost, angry.

Poem Childhood I. Surikov

Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;

Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - clap!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.

All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh!

But meanwhile the village
The sun has long
The storm has risen
The sky is dark.

You will overwhelm all
Don't bend your hands
And home quietly
You wander reluctantly.

shabby fur coat
Throw off your shoulders;
Get on the stove
To the grey-haired grandmother.

And you sit, not a word ...
Quiet all around;
Just hear - howls
Blizzard outside the window.

In the corner, bent over
Grandfather weaves bast shoes;
Mother at the spinning wheel
Silently flax spins.

The hut illuminates
The light of the light;
Winter evening lasts
Lasts endlessly...

And I'll start with my grandmother
Tales I ask;
And my grandmother will start
Tales to say:

Like Ivan Tsarevich
I caught a fire bird;
as his bride
The gray wolf got it.

I listen to a fairy tale
The heart is dying;
And in the pipe angrily
The evil wind sings.

I'll stick with the old lady.
Silent speech murmurs
And my eyes are tight
Sweet dream fades.

And in my dreams I dream
Weird edges.
And Ivan Tsarevich -
It's like me.

Here in front of me
A wonderful garden blooms;
In that garden there is a big
The tree is growing.

golden cage
Hanging on a branch;
There is a bird in this cage
The heat is on fire.

Jumping in that cage
Sings merrily;
Bright, wonderful light
The garden is all over.

So I crept up on her
And for the cage - grab!
And wanted out of the garden
Run with a bird.

But it was not there!
There was a noise, a ringing;
The guards ran
In the garden from all sides.

My hands were twisted
And lead me...
And trembling with fear
I wake up.

Already in the hut, in the window,
The sun looks;
Before the icon of a grandmother
Pray, it's worth it.

You flowed merrily
Baby years!
You were not darkened
Grief and trouble.

Poems about Surikov's winter are perfect for schoolchildren in grades 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 and for children 3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 years old.

I. Surikov

White snow fluffy

Spinning in the air

And the earth is quiet

Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow

The field is white

Like a veil

All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat

Covered up wonderful

And fell asleep under her

Strong, unshakable...

The days have become short

The sun shines a little

Here comes the frost

And winter has come.

A. Usachev

Ice rink

Just get stronger

The first ice

Painter Easels

Runs to the rink.

Swiftly ice

Cutting skates..

The artist draws

Landscape by the river:

Draws a village

draws bridges,

Brings out the roads

Trees, bushes.

draws snowdrifts,

Draws haystacks...

Until the leg gets tired.

M. Starodub

From the Sanka Hill

Rushing on a sled

Katenka -

on a snowmobile

And Seryoga and Andrey

What are they sitting on?

They slide on it!

It turns out faster

Seryoga and Andrey.

V. Berestov

Mishka, Mishka, couch potato!

Bear, bear, couch potato!

He slept long and deep

Slept through the whole winter

And didn't hit the tree

And I didn't go sledding

And I didn't throw snowballs...

Everything would be a little bear to snore.

Oh, you little bear!

Sitting, sitting bunny

Under the bush

Under a bush.

Hunters go

Through the bushes

Through the bushes.

You hunters, jump

Look at my ponytail.

Sitting, sitting bunny

Ears pinched,

Ears pinched.

Hunters are jumping

in a fleeting way,

In the blink of an eye.

You hunters, jump

Don't look for me, bunny.

A. Barto

It was in January

There was a tree on the mountain

And near this Christmas tree

The bad wolves roamed.

Here once

night time,

When it's so quiet in the forest

Meet the wolf under the mountain

Bunnies and bunnies.

Who wants in the New Year

Fall into the clutches of a wolf!

The rabbits rushed forward

And they jumped on the tree.

They pricked their ears

They hung like toys.

ten little bunnies

They hang on the tree and are silent -

The wolf was deceived.

It was in January,

He thought that on the mountain

Decorated tree.

V. Stepanov

Titmouse on the train

The platform swayed slowly,

The train sighed.

And suddenly flew into our car

Agile titmouse.

Snowstorm on the street chalk,

And, apparently, this bird

I wanted light and warmth

Winter wanted summer.

She darted away from one

To the other wall of the car,

She ran over me

Like wind in maple leaves.

Then she sat down at the window

Holding on to the frame tenaciously, -

So close the birds of the living and during the day

I saw only in cages.

Then she took to knocking on the window,

As if really

Snowflakes at the blizzard.

She considered hot -

Now up, then down the head -

Knock Knock! - and right on the shoulder

Deftly came down to me.

She must have thought

What's in a shaggy mitten

I hid the spring stream

And I hid the sun.

Shadows swayed on the window

cold train,

And I was so embarrassed

Look into the eyes of a titmouse.

A. Shibaev

Father Frost

To our Christmas tree - oh-oh-oh! -

Santa Claus is walking alive.

Oh, and Santa Claus!

What cheeks!

What a nose!

Beard, beard!

And on the cap is a star!

There are specks on the nose!

And daddy's eyes!

V. Stepanov

Snowstorm

Don't drive, don't pass

We are sitting as if locked up.

The whole village is a prisoner:

Outside the window is a blizzard.

Fluffy snow over a mound

Curls in a whirlwind.

And above the Christmas tree

The snow curled up.

In addition to snow, from under the bangs

Nothing is visible to the tree.

S. Yesenin

White birch

White birch

under my window

covered with snow,

Exactly silver.

On fluffy branches

snow border

Brushes blossomed

White fringe.

And there is a birch

In sleepy silence

And the snowflakes are burning

In golden fire

A dawn, lazy

Walking around,

Sprinkles branches

New silver.

A. Pushkin

Winter road

Through the wavy mists

The moon is creeping

To sad glades

She pours a sad light.

On the winter road, boring

Troika greyhound runs

Single bell

Tiring noise.

Something is heard native

In the coachman's long songs:

That revelry is remote,

That heartache...

No fire, no black hut,

Wilderness and snow... Meet me

Only miles striped

Come across alone...

Z. Gippius

Girl

I am warmly dressed

Under the hood of a scythe.

Walk - now it's not summer -

I'm going for half an hour.

What a weather!

The snow crunches, crunches...

I would have gone far

But the nanny won't.

Grab the sled

Roll down the mountain

Yes, I'm with Feklista, the nanny,

And it's not up to the game.

Nasty Feklista!

Wants nothing...

Here is Vanya the high school student

They let one go.

He says: "You are not a boy,

You can't be alone."

Brother is a cook

Walks like a big one.

A redhead will put on a hood,

Skates carry, ringing,

And he himself is shorter,

Yes, stupid me.

Laughs: "I - to the right,

I don't need a fecklist."

Oh, how annoying, right,

That I'm not a high school student!