Where sweet whisper
my forests?
murmuring streams,
Meadow flowers?
The trees are bare;
Winter carpet
Covered the hills
Meadows and valleys.
Under the ice
With your bark
The stream is numb;
Everything is numb
Only the evil wind
Raging, howling
And the sky covers
Gray haze.
The cat sings, squinting his eyes;
The boy is napping on the carpet.
A storm is playing outside
The wind is whistling in the yard.
“It’s enough for you to wallow here, -
Hide your toys and get up!
Come to me to say goodbye
Yes, go to sleep."
The boy stood up, and the cat with his eyes
He spent and sings everything;
The snow falls in tufts at the windows,
The storm whistles at the gate.
Mother! look out the window -
Know that yesterday it was not for nothing that the cat
Washed the nose
There is no dirt, the whole yard is dressed,
Brightened, whitened -
Apparently it's cold.
Not scratchy, light blue
Frost is hung on the branches -
Just look at you!
Like someone with a beef
Fresh, white, plump cotton
Removed all bushes.
Now there will be no dispute:
For the sled and uphill
Have fun running!
Really, mom? You won't refuse
And you might say to yourself:
“Well, hurry up for a walk!”
wonderful picture,
How are you related to me?
white plain,
Full moon,
the light of the heavens above,
And shining snow
And distant sleigh
Lonely run.
The creak of footsteps along the white streets,
Lights away;
On the icy walls
Crystals sparkle.
From eyelashes hung in the eyes
silver fluff,
Silence cold night
Takes the spirit.
The wind sleeps and everything goes numb
Just to sleep;
The clear air itself is shy
Breathe in the cold.
My sled drives by itself
Without a motor, without a horse,
Every now and then my sled
They run away from me.
I can't get on top
Sledge - from a place and running ...
My sled drives by itself
Carrying a motor, without a horse.
And under the hill my sled
Behind the snowdrift they are waiting for me.
Naughty, bored them
Climb up alone.
Three on a snowy meadow
Me, Winter and sleds.
Only snow will cover the ground -
We are going to three.
Having fun in the meadow -
Me, Winter and sleds.
The creak of steps along the white streets, Lights in the distance...
The creak of footsteps along the white streets, the lights in the distance;
Crystals gleam on the icy walls.
Silver fluff hung from the eyelashes in the eyes,
The silence of the cold night occupies the spirit.
The wind sleeps, and everything goes numb, just to fall asleep;
The clear air itself is shy to die in the cold.
How many different hats!
How many different hats!
Blue, red, clean, dirty!
There are many different hats in different hats -
even sad and unhappy.
The snow was falling thickly
and fell asleep sad, sad ...
There are neither sad nor grouchy -
many white and happy!
White winter. All in frost.
The snowman is blue from the cold.
He doesn't eat lunch or dinner.
Snowman, do you have a cold?
- What are you, an eccentric, I do not need heat.
I live in harmony with the blue cold.
What could be better than frost and hoarfrost?
The earth is white. The sky is blue.
The sleds are going down by themselves,
But they have one whim.
So that the sleigh races from the hill,
We drag them up ourselves.
With the advent of cold
Snow flies and sparkles
In the golden light of the day.
Like fluff
All valleys and fields...
River covered with ice
And fell asleep for the time being
With a ringing laugh, children
They are already rolling down the mountain;
And the peasant renews
On the logs the road to the forest;
Snow flies and sparkles
Silently falling from the sky.
Where the river played with gold
Conducting a conversation with a reed,
Now there lies crystal ice,
Sparkling pure silver.
Where rye, like the sea, worried,
Where lush meadows bloomed
Now there is menacing and angry
A blizzard and a blizzard are walking.
Winter sings - calls out,
Shaggy forest cradles
The call of a pine forest.
Around with deep longing
Sailing to a distant land
Gray clouds.
And in the yard a snowstorm
Spreads like a silk carpet,
But it's painfully cold.
Sparrows are playful
Like orphan children
Huddled at the window.
Little birds are chilled,
Hungry, tired
And they huddle tighter.
A blizzard with a furious roar
Knocks on the shutters hung
And getting more and more angry.
And gentle birds doze
Under these whirlwinds of snow
By the dead window.
And they dream of a beautiful
In the smiles of the sun is clear
Spring beauty.
Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,
On firewood, updates the path;
His horse, smelling snow,
Trotting somehow;
Reins fluffy exploding,
A remote wagon flies;
The coachman sits on the irradiation
In a sheepskin coat, in a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Planting a bug in a sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The scoundrel already froze his finger:
It hurts and it's funny
And his mother threatens him through the window...
For all children, winter is a tireless holiday and fun! When, if not in winter, you can build the best snowman or snowman in your life, taste the snow or play snowballs with friends.
A selection of winter poems for children of the senior group of kindergarten.
In this collection of poems about winter for preschoolers there are poems about the first snow, about beautiful frosty patterns on the windows, poems about frost, about white robes winter forest, poems about winter are long and short, but all are very beautiful. These poems are for children. senior group kindergarten and can be used to perform at a matinee. And the verses marked with an asterisk are recommended for memorization. To help you, on our website.
White birch*
S. Yesenin
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.
First snow
Smell of winter cold
In fields and forests.
Lit up in bright purple
Heaven before sunset.
The storm blew through the night,
And with the dawn on the village,
To the fields, to the deserted garden
The first snow fell...
And today over the wide
white tablecloth fields
We said goodbye to the belated
A string of geese.
Mother! Look out the window...
Mother! Look out the window -
Know yesterday is not for nothing cat
Washed the nose
There is no dirt, the whole yard is dressed,
Brightened, whitened -
Apparently it's cold.
Not scratchy, light blue
Frost is hung on the branches -
Just look at you!
Like someone with a beef
Fresh, white, plump cotton
Removed all bushes.
Now there will be no dispute:
For the sled, and uphill
Have fun running!
Really, mom? You won't refuse
And you might say to yourself:
"Well, hurry up for a walk!"
A blizzard cleared up ... *
S. Yesenin
The blizzard blew up
bent fir
Down to earth. With fright
The shutters creaked.
And snowflakes in the window
Moths are fighting
Melt and teardrops
They pour down the glass.
Complaint to someone
The wind blows on something
And it rages fiercely:
Nobody heard.
And a flock of snowflakes
Everyone is knocking on the window
And with tears, melting,
It flows over the glass.
From the novel "Eugene Onegin" *
A. Pushkin
That year the autumn weather
Stood in the yard for a long time
Winter was waiting, nature was waiting.
Snow fell only in January
On the third night. Waking up early
Tatyana saw through the window
Whitewashed yard in the morning,
Curtains, roofs and fences,
Light patterns on glass
Trees in winter silver
Forty merry in the yard
And softly padded mountains
Winters are a brilliant carpet.
Everything is bright, everything is white around.
From the novel "Eugene Onegin" *
A. Pushkin
Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,
on firewood updates the path;
His horse smells snow
Trotting somehow;
Reins fluffy exploding,
A remote wagon flies;
The coachman sits on the irradiation,
In a sheepskin coat, in a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Planting a bug in a sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The scoundrel already froze his finger:
It hurts and it's funny
Dilapidated hut*
dilapidated hut
All covered in snow.
old grandmother
Looks out the window.
For the naughty grandchildren
Knee-deep snow.
Cheerful for the kids
Fast sled run...
running, laughing,
Making a snow house
ringing loudly
Voices all around...
In the snow house
Razor game…
Fingers get cold
It's time to go home!
Drink tea tomorrow
Looking out the window -
But the house has melted,
It's spring outside!
The creak of footsteps along the white streets...
The creak of footsteps along the white streets,
Lights away;
On the icy walls
Crystals sparkle.
From eyelashes hung in the eyes
silver fluff,
Silence of the cold night
Takes the spirit.
The wind sleeps and everything goes numb
Just to sleep;
The clear air itself is shy
Breathe in the cold.
Where is the sweet whisper...
E. Baratynsky
Where is the sweet whisper
my forests?
murmuring streams,
Meadow flowers?
The trees are bare;
Winter carpet
Covered the hills
Meadows and valleys.
Under the ice
With your bark
The stream is numb;
Everything is numb
Only the evil wind
Raging, howling
And the sky covers
Gray haze.
Fairy tale on glass
T. Shorygina
Frost on the glass
drew a pattern,
Inflicted with silver
White lush forest.
early in the morning
I'll go to the window
I'll be in that forest
Listen to silence.
Do I wonder?
Or dreaming?
I'm running down the ski track
I hear the sound of pines
Winds through the snow
Fresh fox trail
Melts in the meadow
Pink dawn.
And tremble in the darkness
White smoke of birches -
fairy tale on glass
Drawn frost.
Frost
G. Galina
Silver through the trees
The veil has been thrown -
Snow-white, fluffy,
Lace beauty!
And the sad birch itself
I couldn't find out myself
So skillfully adorned
Winter tree branches...
Snow yes snow
Snow yes snow. The whole hut was covered.
The snow is white all around knee-deep.
So frosty, light and white!
Only black, black walls...
And the breath comes out of my lips
Steam freezing in the air.
There's smoke creeping out of the chimneys;
They are sitting in the window with a samovar;
Old grandfather sat at the table
Bent over and blows on a saucer;
Vaughn and grandmother slipped from the stove,
And all around the kids are laughing.
The guys hid, they look,
How does a cat play with kittens ...
Suddenly guys squeaky kittens
They threw it back into the basket...
Away from home to the snowy expanse
They rode on sledges.
The yard resounds with shouts -
They made a giant out of snow!
Stick in the nose, eyeballs
And put on a shaggy hat.
And he stands, a childish thunderstorm, -
Here he will take it, here he will grab it in an armful!
And the guys laugh, shout,
The giant they got out on the glory!
And the old woman looks at her grandchildren,
Do not contradict the childish temper.
in winter
F. Shkulev
- How much snow! How much snow! —
The kids screamed
And, taking shovels, sleds,
Ran out of the yard...
Their cheeks are alley dawns,
The eyes are shining like an asterisk.
And silently all at once
And they scream and talk.
Their ringing laughter is heard
Frost far...
That's why I love kids
Hot and deep.
Missed, didn't drink
But they saw the space -
Faces lit up with happiness
A clear sun blazed up.
From the poem, "Frost, Red Nose"
N. Nekrasov
It is not the wind that rages over the forest,
Streams did not run from the mountains,
Frost-voivode patrol
Bypasses his possessions.
Looks - good blizzards
Forest paths brought
And are there any cracks, cracks,
Is there any bare ground anywhere?
Are the tops of the pines fluffy,
Is the pattern on oak trees beautiful?
And are the ice floes tightly bound
In great and small waters?
Walks - walks through the trees,
Cracking on frozen water
And bright sun plays
In his shaggy beard...
Snowman
V. Stepanov
One - hand, two - hand -
We're making a snowman!
Three - four, three - four,
Let's draw a wider mouth!
Five - let's find carrots for the nose,
Let's find coals for the eyes.
Six - put on a hat askew,
Let him laugh at us.
Seven and eight, seven and eight
We will ask him to dance.
Nine - ten - snowman
Over the head - somersault!!!
Well, the circus!
Winter storm
S. Marshak
Snow blizzard, blizzard,
Spin us yarn
whip up fluffy snow,
Like swan fluff.
You nimble weavers -
Whirlwinds and blizzards
Give rainbow brocade
For shaggy firs.
Take care, blacksmith-frost,
Tell us today
birch necklace
By New Year's Eve!
"Where is the sweet whisper ..." Evgeny Baratynsky
Where is the sweet whisper
my forests?
murmuring streams,
Meadow flowers?
The trees are bare;
Winter carpet
Covered the hills
Meadows and valleys.
Under the ice
With your bark
The stream is numb;
Everything is numb
Only the evil wind
Raging, howling
And the sky covers
Gray haze.
Why, yearning
I'm watching through the window
Blizzards years?
To the darling of happiness
Blood from bad weather
It gives.
crackling fire
In my oven;
His rays
And flying dust
I'm having fun
Careless look.
I dream in silence
Before the live
His game
And I forget
I am the storm.
Oh providence
Thanks!
I will forget
And a whiff
Storms of life.
Grieving in soul
In my anguish
I bow my head
To her heart
And under the rebellious
A snowstorm of troubles
tender love
She is warmed
I will forget soon
steep grief,
How at this moment
Forgotten nature
coffin face
And bad weather
Rebellious cry.
Analysis of Baratynsky's poem "Where is the sweet whisper ..."
The work, dated 1831, anticipates the appearance of Russian estate lyrics, the development of which began 10-15 years later. The thematic affiliation of the text is confirmed by its ideological and artistic structure. One of the leading roles is assigned by the author to the image of the house, a reliable refuge that protects its owners from cold and bad weather. A similar interpretation of the image is found in the famous Fetov creation "", where home comfort opposed to a storm raging "in the yard".
The poetic text opens rhetorical question, which includes the metaphorical construction "sweet whisper", denoting the rustle of leaves. The lyrical “I” captures the changes caused by the arrival of cold weather: bare trees, a frozen stream, “blizzards of summer”, valleys covered with a “carpet of winter”. Depicting the details of nature, the poet often refers to personifications. Trees are endowed with the ability to whisper, and river water, to which the hero is accustomed to the “murmur”, “goes silent” under the ice.
The landscape picture, in which numbness and "gray haze" dominate, is bleak. The lyrical subject breaks away from the sad spectacle and looks at the "crackling" fire burning in the furnace. Looking intently into the tongues of living flames, surrounded by comfort, the “darling of happiness” forgets about the bad weather. His mood also changes: longing is replaced by calm joy, which gives rise to a desire to dream “in silence”.
The everyday situation serves as an occasion for philosophical generalizations. The encouraged hero hurries to thank the divine forces that showed him the way to overcome life crisis. From the "storms of life", "blizzard of troubles" and spiritual grief, "tender love" will save. The main secret its healing power is the ability to grant oblivion to an anxious heart.
In the final part, the author brings together complexes of images of different thematic groups: bitter trials prepared by fate are likened to weather signs of winter bad weather. This tendency is manifested through a number of metaphorical constructions that convey the contradictory essence of the hero's bleak earthly path. The poem ends with two vivid examples, in which the semantics of disharmony is enhanced by negative connotations: "coffin face" and "rebellious cry".
To depict personal experiences, the poet chooses a rare variation poetic size- two-foot iambic. Short easy the line is also found in the work "Guess", dedicated to "the language of love is a secret."
Published: 23.01.2016
Winter in the verses of Russian poets is thoughtful and beckons with splendor, as if the queen herself
the kingdom of the winter and the mistress of snowstorms and blizzards, fetters and beckons with her beauty
and majesty. Nature hid and sleeps, hiding under a snow-white blanket,
while winter unleashed the forces of wind and frost, shackling all natural
the world in ice chains, as if, lines winter poems, bewitched by beauty and enchanted
of Russian poetry.
A. S. Pushkin. “Here is the north, catching up the clouds ...”
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
I'll tell mother winter's leprosy.
(excerpt from the novel Eugene Onegin)
A. A. Fet. "Mother! Look out the window"
Mother! look out the window
Know that yesterday it was not for nothing that the cat
Washed the nose
There is no dirt, the whole yard is dressed,
Brightened, whitened -
Apparently it's cold.
Not scratchy, light blue
Frost is hung on the branches -
Just look at you!
Like someone with a beef
Fresh, white, plump cotton
Removed all bushes.
Now there will be no dispute:
For the sled, and uphill
Have fun running!
Really, mom? You won't refuse
And you might say to yourself:
"Well, hurry up for a walk!"
A. N. Apukhtin. "Rose white, fluffy"
White riza, fluffy
Fir trees sparkle lightly;
Shiny silver fabric
Ice-clad glass:
Side of the woods far away
All covered with snow
And looks from the heavens high
Round moon..
A. S. 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.
Bored, sad... Tomorrow, Nina,
Tomorrow, returning to my dear,
I'll forget by the fireplace
I look without looking.
Sounding hour hand
He will make his measured circle,
And, removing the boring ones,
Midnight won't separate us.
It's sad, Nina: my path is boring,
Dremlya fell silent my coachman,
The bell is monotonous
Foggy moon face.
A. A. Blok "Dilapidated hut"
dilapidated hut
All covered in snow.
old grandmother
Looks out the window.
For the naughty grandchildren
Knee-deep snow.
Cheerful for the kids
Fast sled run...
running, laughing,
Making a snow house
In the snow house
Razor game…
Fingers get cold
It's time to go home!
Drink tea tomorrow
Looking out the window -
But the house has melted,
It's spring outside!
N. A. Nekrasov "A Man with a Marigold" (from "Peasant Children")
Once upon a time in the cold winter time
I came out of the forest; there was severe frost.
I look, it rises slowly uphill
Horse carrying firewood.
And marching importantly, in serenity,
A man is leading a horse by the bridle
In big boots, in a sheepskin coat,
In big mittens ... and himself with a fingernail!
"Hey, boy!" - Get past yourself! -
“You are painfully formidable, as I can see!
Where are the firewood from? - From the forest, of course;
Father, you hear, cuts, and I take.
(The woodcutter's ax was heard in the forest.) -
“What, does your father have a big family?”
The family is big, yes two people
All the men, something: my father and I ... -
“So there it is! And what's your name?"
"And what year are you?" - The sixth passed ...
Well, dead! - shouted the little one in a bass voice,
He jerked by the bridle and walked faster.
The sun shone on this picture
The baby was so hilariously small
It's like it was all cardboard.
It's like I was in a children's theater!
But the boy was a living, real boy,
And firewood, and brushwood, and a piebald horse,
And the snow, lying to the windows of the village,
And winter sun cold Fire -
Everything, everything was real Russian,
With the stigma of an unsociable, deadly winter.
What is so painfully sweet to the Russian soul,
What Russian thoughts inspire in the minds,
Those honest thoughts that have no will,
To whom there is no death - do not push,
In which there is so much anger and pain,
In which there is so much love!
N. A. Nekrasov "Moroz the Governor" (from "Moroz, Red Nose")
It is not the wind that rages over the forest,
Streams did not run from the mountains,
Frost-voivode patrol
Bypasses his possessions.
Looks - good blizzards
Forest paths brought
And are there any cracks, cracks,
Is there any bare ground anywhere?
Are the tops of the pines fluffy,
Is the pattern on oak trees beautiful?
And are the ice floes tightly bound
In great and small waters?
Walks - walks through the trees,
Cracking on frozen water
And the bright sun plays
In his shaggy beard.
The road is everywhere to the sorcerer,
Chu! comes closer, gray-haired.
And suddenly he was over her,
Above her head!
Climbing on a large pine tree,
Hits the branches with a club
And I delete myself,
Boastful song sings:
"Look, young lady, bolder,
What a governor Frost!
You probably have a stronger guy
And it turned out better?
Blizzards, snow and fog
Always submissive to frost
I'll go to the sea-okiyany -
I will build palaces of ice.
I think - the rivers are big
For a long time I will hide under oppression,
I will build bridges of ice
Which the people will not build.
Where fast, noisy waters
Recently flowed freely -
Pedestrians passed today
The convoys with the goods have passed.
I love in deep graves
Row the dead in frost,
And freeze the blood in your veins,
And the brain freezes in the head.
On the mountain unkind thief,
At the fear of the rider and the horse,
I love in the evening
Start a chatter in the forest.
Babenki, singing to the goblin,
They run home quickly.
And drunk, and horseback, and foot
It's even more fun to fool around.
I'll whiten my face without chalk,
And the nose is on fire
And I'll freeze my beard like that
To the reins - even cut with an ax!
I'm rich, I don't count the treasury
And everything does not lack good;
I take away my kingdom
In diamonds, pearls, silver.
Come into my kingdom with me
And be you queen in it!
We will reign gloriously in winter,
And in the summer we will fall asleep deeply.
Come in! I'll take a nap, I'll warm
I will take the palace blue ... "
And became the governor over her
Swing an ice mace.
S. D. Drozhzhin "Snow flies and sparkles ..."
Snow flies and sparkles
In the golden light of the day.
Like fluff
All valleys and fields...
Everything in nature freezes:
And the fields, and the dark forest.
Snow flies and sparkles
Silently falling from the sky.
S. A. Yesenin "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.
S. A. Yesenin. powder
I'm going. Quiet. Ringing is heard
Under the hoof in the snow.
Only gray crows
Made a noise in the meadow.
Bewitched by the invisible
The forest slumbers under the fairy tale of sleep.
Like a white scarf
The pine has tied.
Bent over like an old lady
Leaned on a stick
And under the very crown
The woodpecker hammers at the bitch.
The horse gallops, there is a lot of space.
Snow falls and spreads a shawl.
Endless road
Runs off into the distance.
Boris Pasternak. "Snowing"
Snowing, It is snowing.
To the white stars in the blizzard
Stretching geranium flowers
For the window frame.
It's snowing and everything is in turmoil
Everything takes flight,
black stairs steps,
Crossroad turn.
It's snowing, it's snowing
As if not flakes are falling,
And in the patched coat
The sky descends to the ground.
Sergey Yesenin. "I'm on the first snow"
I wander through the first snow,
In the heart are lilies of the valley of flashing forces.
Evening blue candle star
He lit up my road.
I don't know, is it light or darkness?
In more often the wind sings or a rooster?
Maybe instead of winter in the fields
The swans sat on the meadow.
You are good, O white surface!
A light frost warms my blood!
So I want to press to the body
Bare breasts of birches.
Oh forest, dense dregs!
About the fun of the snow-covered fields! ...
So I want to close my hands
Over the tree hips of willows.
1917
Ivan Bunin. "Blizzard"
At night in the fields, to the tunes of a snowstorm,
Dozing, swaying, birch and spruce ...
The moon shines between the clouds above the field, -
A pale shadow runs and melts...
It seems to me at night: between white birches
Frost wanders in the misty radiance.
At night in a hut, to the tunes of a snowstorm,
The creak of the cradle quietly spreads ...
For a month the light in the darkness is silvering -
In the frozen glass on the benches flows ...
It seems to me at night: between the boughs of birches
Frost looks into the silent huts.
Dead field, steppe road!
Blizzard sweeps you at night,
Your villages are sleeping under the songs of a blizzard,
Lonely fir trees slumber in the snow...
It seems to me at night: do not steppe around -
Frost wanders on a deaf graveyard ...
1887–1895
K. Balmont. "The fields are covered with a motionless veil."
The fields are covered with a motionless veil.
Fluffy white snow.
As if the world had said goodbye to Spring forever,
With its flowers and leaves.
Bound ringing key. He is a prisoner of Winter.
One snowstorm sings, sobbing.
But the Sun loves a circle. It keeps Spring.
Young will return again.
So far she went to wander in foreign lands,
For the world to experience dreams.
So that he sees in a dream that he lies in the snow,
And he listens to the blizzard like singing.
Here comes the postal troika
(Russian folk song)
Here comes the postal troika
Along Mother Volga in winter,
The coachman, sadly singing,
Shakes his wild head.
What were you thinking, kid? -
The seat asked kindly. -
What a twist on the heart
Tell me, who upset you?
"Ah, gentleman, gentleman, good gentleman,
It's almost a year since I love
And the infidel-headman, Tatar
He scolds me, but I endure.
Oh sir, sir, soon Christmas time,
And she won't be mine anymore
The rich chose, but the hateful -
She will not see happy days ...
The coachman fell silent and a belt whip
With annoyance, he plugged it into his belt.
Family, stop! Restless! -
He said he sighed sadly. -
For me, the horses will be sad,
Having parted, greyhounds, with me,
And I can't run anymore
On the Mother Volga in winter!
S. Yesenin. "Winter sings - calls out."
Winter sings - calls out ...
Shaggy forest cradles
The call of a pine forest.
Around with deep longing
Sailing to a distant land
Gray clouds.
And in the yard a snowstorm
Spreads like a silk carpet,
But it's painfully cold.
Sparrows are playful
Like orphan children
Huddled at the window.
Little birds are chilled,
Hungry, tired
And they huddle tighter.
A blizzard with a furious roar
Knocks on the shutters hung
And getting more and more angry.
And gentle birds doze
Under these whirlwinds of snow
At the frozen window.
And they dream of a beautiful
In the smiles of the sun is clear
Spring beauty.
E. Baratynsky "Where is the sweet whisper"
Where is the sweet whisper
my forests?
murmuring streams,
Meadow flowers?
The trees are bare;
Winter carpet
Covered the hills
Meadows and valleys.
Under the ice
With your bark
The stream is numb;
Everything is numb
Only the evil wind
Raging, howling
And the sky covers
Gray haze.
Why, yearning
I'm watching through the window
Blizzards fly?
To the darling of happiness
Blood from bad weather
It gives.
crackling fire
In my oven;
His rays
And flying dust
I'm having fun
Careless look.
I dream in silence
Before the live
His game
And I forget
I am the storm.
V.Ya. Bryusov. "Winter"
The embodiment of dreams
Life with a dream is a game
This world of charms
This world of silver!
See more poems about winter in the forum thread here:
my forests?
murmuring streams,
Meadow flowers?
The trees are bare;
Winter carpet
Covered the hills
Meadows and valleys.
Under the ice
With your bark
The stream is numb;
Everything is numb
Only the evil wind
Raging, howling
And the sky covers
Gray haze.
Athanasius Fet
The cat sings, squinting his eyes;
The boy is napping on the carpet.
A storm is playing outside
The wind is whistling in the yard.
"It's enough for you to wallow here, -
Hide your toys and get up!
Come to me to say goodbye
Yes, go to sleep."
The boy stood up, and the cat with his eyes
He spent and sings everything;
The snow falls in tufts at the windows,
The storm whistles at the gate.
Athanasius Fet
Mother! look out the window
Know that yesterday it was not for nothing that the cat
Washed the nose
There is no dirt, the whole yard is dressed,
Brightened, whitened -
Apparently it's cold.
Not scratchy, light blue
Frost is hung on the branches -
Just look at you!
Like someone with a beef
Fresh, white, plump cotton
Removed all bushes.
Now there will be no dispute:
For the sled and uphill
Have fun running!
Really, mom? You won't refuse
And you might say to yourself:
"Well, hurry up for a walk!"
Athanasius Fet
wonderful picture,
How are you related to me?
white plain,
Full moon,
the light of the heavens above,
And shining snow
And distant sleigh
Lonely run.
Athanasius Fet
The creak of footsteps along the white streets,
Lights away;
On the icy walls
Crystals sparkle.
From eyelashes hung in the eyes
silver fluff,
Silence of the cold night
Takes the spirit.
The wind sleeps and everything goes numb
Just to sleep;
The clear air itself is shy
Breathe in the cold.
Samuil Marshak
ALL YEAR ROUND. DECEMBER
In December, in December
All trees are in silver.
Our river, as if in a fairy tale,
Frost paved the night
Updated skates, sleds,
I brought a Christmas tree from the forest.
The tree cried at first
From home warmth
Stop crying in the morning
She breathed, she came alive.
Her needles tremble a little,
The branches were on fire.
Like a ladder, a Christmas tree
The fires fly up.
Flappers glitter with gold.
I lit a star with silver
Run to the top
The bravest bastard.
A year has passed like yesterday
Over Moscow at this hour
The clock of the Kremlin tower strikes
Your salute - twelve times!
Samuil Marshak
ALL YEAR ROUND. JANUARY
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.
Samuil Marshak
ALL YEAR ROUND. FEBRUARY
The winds blow in February
Howling in the pipes loudly.
Serpentine winds on the ground
Light ground.
Above Kremlin wall -
Aircraft links.
Glory to the native army
On her birthday!
Sergei Mikhalkov
WHITE POEMS
The snow is spinning
Snow falls -
Snow! Snow! Snow!
Happy snow beast and bird
And, of course, the man!
Happy gray titmouse:
Birds freeze in the cold
Snow fell - frost fell!
The cat washes its nose with snow.
Puppy on a black back
White snowflakes are melting.
The sidewalks are covered
Everything around is white-white:
Snow-snow-snowfall!
Enough business for shovels,
For shovels and scrapers,
For big trucks.
The snow is spinning
Snow falls -
Snow! Snow! Snow!
Happy snow beast and bird
And, of course, the man!
Only a janitor, only a janitor
Says: - I am this Tuesday
I will never forget!
Snowfall is a problem for us!
All day the scraper scrapes,
The broom sweeps all day long.
A hundred sweats have left me
And the circle is white again!
Snow! Snow! Snow!
Fedor Tyutchev
Enchantress Winter
Bewitched, the forest stands,
And under snowy fringe,
Motionless, dumb
wonderful life he shines.
And he stands, bewitched,
Not dead and not alive -
Magically enchanted by sleep
All entangled, all bound
Light chain downy...
Is the winter sun mosque
On him his ray oblique -
Nothing trembles in it
He will flare up and shine
Dazzling beauty.
JANIER - FATHER FROST
In a fur coat, in a hat, in a shower jacket
The janitor was smoking a pipe,
And sitting on the bench
The snowman said:
"Are you flying or melting?
You won't understand anything here!
You sweep, you sweep
Just to no avail sweep!
Why am I talking?
I'll sit down and smoke."
The janitor smokes a pipe, smokes ...
And his eyes squint from the snow,
And sighs and yawns
And suddenly falls asleep.
Look, Manya ... - shouted Vanya.
You see, the scarecrow is sitting
And ember eyes
He looks at his broom.
Santa Claus and children
It's like a snowman
Or just Santa Claus
Well, give him a hat,
Get him by the nose!"
And how it roars!
How to kick your feet!
Yes, how to jump up from the bench,
Yes, he will shout in Russian:
"It will be cold for you -
How to grab my nose!"
Daniil Kharms
I walked in the winter along the swamp
in galoshes,
In Hat
And with glasses.
Suddenly, someone swept along the river
On metal
Hooks.
I ran to the river
And he ran into the forest,
I attached two planks to my feet,
sat down,
jumped up
And disappeared.
And for a long time I stood by the river,
And I thought for a long time, taking off my glasses:
"What strange
planks
And incomprehensible
Hooks!"
Mikhail Isakovsky
WINTER EVENING
Behind the window in the white field -
Twilight, wind, snow...
You are probably sitting at school,
In his bright room.
Winter evening short,
Leaned over the table
Do you write, do you read?
Whether you think about what.
The day is over - and the classrooms are empty,
Silence in the old house
And you're a little sad
That you are alone today.
Because of the wind, because of the blizzard
Empty all the ways
Friends won't come to you
Spend the evening together.
The blizzard swept up the track, -
It's not easy to get through.
But the fire in your window
Seen very far.
Sergey Yesenin
Winter sings - calls out,
Shaggy forest cradles
The call of a pine forest.
Around with deep longing
Sailing to a distant land
Gray clouds.
And in the yard a snowstorm
Spreads like a silk carpet,
But it's painfully cold.
Sparrows are playful
Like orphan children
Huddled at the window.
Chilled little birds
Hungry, tired
And they huddle tighter.
A blizzard with a furious roar
Knocks on the shutters hung
And getting more and more angry.
And gentle birds doze
Under these whirlwinds of snow
At the frozen window.
And they dream of a beautiful
In the smiles of the sun is clear
Spring beauty.
Sergey Yesenin
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.
Alexander Blok
dilapidated hut
dilapidated hut
All covered in snow.
old grandmother
Looks out the window.
For the naughty grandchildren
Knee-deep snow.
Cheerful for the kids
Fast sled running...
running, laughing,
Making a snow house
ringing loudly
Voices all around...
In the snow house
Rough game...
Fingers get cold
It's time to go home!
Drink tea tomorrow
Looking out the window -
But the house has melted,
It's spring outside!
Nikolai 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
Cheerful white flies.
For whom will you sing, blizzard,
In silver horns?
- For little bear cubs,
That in the den they sleep soundly.
Snow sparkles, snow swirls
All of a sudden, I'm only dreaming.
What happened to me all of a sudden?
I'm like a hero
Your snowy fortress
I defend in an evil battle!
I deflect all blows.
I'm throwing snowballs at everyone!
Well, who will crawl into the hole,
Snow quickly rub!
A white fluff falls from the sky,
And the snow creaks underfoot
Sledges are flying fast from the hill,
Christmas trees in white dress are standing.
The hostess-winter rules again,
She sprinkles silver herself
Rooftops, streets, forest and all of us
Under childish, effervescent laughter.
From the poem Eugene Onegin
A. Pushkin
Here is the north, catching up the clouds,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The magic winter is coming
Came, crumbled; shreds
Hanging 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.
That year the autumn weather
She stood outside for a long time.
Winter was waiting, nature was waiting,
Snow fell only in January,
On the third night. Waking up early
Tatyana saw in the window
Whitewashed yard in the morning,
Curtains, roofs and fences,
Light patterns on glass
Trees in winter silver
Forty merry in the yard
And softly padded mountains
Winters are a brilliant carpet.
Everything is bright, everything shines around.
Winter!.. The peasant, triumphant,
On firewood, updates the path;
His horse, smelling snow,
Trotting somehow;
Reins fluffy exploding,
A remote wagon flies;
The coachman sits on the irradiation
In a sheepskin coat, in a red sash.
Here is a yard boy running,
Planting a bug in a sled,
Transforming himself into a horse;
The scoundrel already froze his finger:
It hurts and it's funny
And his mother threatens him through the window.
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 were sad.
And now ... Look out the window:
Under blue skies
splendid carpets,
Shine in the sun.
Snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river under the ice glitters.
Winter has come
I. Chernitskaya
The winter is merry
With skates and sleighs
With powdered ski tracks,
With magic old fairy tale.
On a decorated tree
The lanterns swing.
May the winter be cheerful
It doesn't end anymore!
Snowflakes
I. Bursov
light, winged,
Like night butterflies
Circling, circling
Above the table by the lamp.
Gathered for a picnic.
And where should they go?
After all, they, too, icy,
I want to warm up.
L. Voronkova
Our windows with a white brush
Santa Claus painted.
He dressed the field with snow,
Snow covered the garden.
Can't we get used to the snow
Can we hide our nose in a fur coat?
How will we go out and how will we shout:
- Hello Dedushka Moroz!
We ride, have fun!
The sled is light - take off!
Who rushes like a bird
Who will roll right into the snow.
Fluffy snow is softer than cotton wool,
Let's shake it off, let's run.
We are funny guys
We don't shiver from the cold.
Snow everywhere
A. Brodsky
Everywhere snow, in the snow at home -
Winter brought him.
Hurry up to us
She brought us snowmen.
From dawn to dawn
Glory to the winter bullfinches.
Santa Claus, like a little one,
Dancing at the rubble.
And I can too
So dance in the snow.
What are you doing, Winter?
R. Farhadi
What are you doing, Winter?
- I'm building a miracle tower!
I pour snow silver
I decorate all around.
The carousel spins
Rampant blizzard!
I'll try so that in the morning
Didn't miss the kids
To light up the tree
So that the trio rushed!
Winter has countless worries:
Holiday is coming soon New Year!
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! -
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
Baba 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.
