Svetlana Vyaznikova
My children and I recently visited Mothers of Winter... It's just a fairy tale! I invite you to see our photo report.
Met us Mother Winter in the largest and lightest room - the hall where the throne is.
The throne Mother Winter is not easy rather magical. Whoever sits on it and makes a wish - it will definitely come true!
In the hall by Mother Winter's Snowman Lives, there is an elegant Christmas tree.
The walls of the hall are decorated with paintings by local artists.
Told us Mother Winter about her palace, about what is in it.
Have Mother Winter has her own dining room where she treats guests to tea with snowflakes (meringue).
And children mother Winter treated with snowflakes
There is a fireplace in the dining room, which she kindles if the guests are frozen.
There is a room called the bedchamber where Mother Winter is resting.
There is a bed in that room
The chest of drawers on which the boxes are, in them Mother Winter keeps its decorations.
Carved antique oven
And this is a winter outfit Mothers of Winter
To be continued.
In Moscow, winter was turned on for a couple of days. And memories of huge snow-white snowdrifts, cleared white paths and crisp snow underfoot came to my mind. And also the frosty sun on blue sky and a long mustache of a black fluffy cat covered with frost! We plunged into such a beautiful snowy winter during the first stage of the expedition "Opening the Silver Necklace" in the village of Yarensk, the accent on the letter Ya Yarensk is located practically on the border of the Arkhangelsk region and the Komi Republic. The climate is sharply continental, so there are cold and snowy winters and short hot summers. 
We arrived in the village at the beginning of March and it was 27 on the street. Some sources indicate that the lowest temperature dropped to -50. 
In ancient times, Yarensk flourished, being an important transit point of the trade route to the Urals and Siberia, as well as the birthplace of explorers. But with the opening of more southern routes to Siberia, Yarensk lost its importance, and in 1924 it lost its status as a city. In Yarensk, the explorer of Kamchatka, the Aleutian Islands and Alaska Stepan Glotov was born. And the famous Robinson Crusoe, according to the plot of Daniel Defoe's book, passed the trade route through Yarensk! 
Now the ancient origin of the village is reminiscent of the remains of the city earthen rampart, old wooden houses and several stone merchant buildings. 
Many local wooden houses have more than 100 years of history. 
We were especially pleased with the cleared paths and the lack of reagents. 
The cat was calm like a boa constrictor and did not pay the slightest attention to the bloggers who surrounded him. 
In general, Yarensk made the impression of a place remote from civilization, but with the presence of life in it. 
The first brick building in Yarensk, the house of the merchant Eshkelev, was built in 1820. Now it houses the Residence of Mother Winter. Not as popular as the Residence of Santa Claus, but a very interesting and sincere place: it will be interesting for children to take part in an interactive tour with the participation of Zima and her assistants, and for adults - to be inside an old merchant house. 
In the courtyard of Mother Winter, the inhabitants of the fabulous Lena forest live: Leshy, Kikimora and Baba Yaga met us. And although we are all no longer children, it turned out to be a lot of fun 
The easiest way to get to Yarensk is by car. What we actually did. Another way is by train to railway station Mezheg, through which trains pass from Moscow and St. Petersburg to Syktyvkar, Vorkuta and other cities of the Komi Republic. Then take a regular bus. 
We look at the photo and remember what the "right" winter should be 
If there were no winter ... That would be ... Some other name, because there is no escape from the change of seasons. And why was winter called winter, and not something else? And why is this snowy and frosty season respectfully called a mother and even a sorceress?
Why is winter called that?
Some like summer with sun, sea and fruits more, others gravitate towards spring with its amazing renewal of life and awakening of nature. There are also fans of autumn with its misty sunrises and carpets of yellow leaves. But no one will argue that winter is truly a fabulous time of the year.
This is the coldest season after fall and followed by spring. The word itself is similar in sound and pronunciation in languages of Proto-Slavic origin. In Ukrainian this time of year is also winter, as in Bulgarian, but with an emphasis on the first syllable. In Czech, Slovak and Polish - zima, in Latvian - zìema. It is also found in other languages, for example, in Indian - hima. Translated into Russian, this word means snow, which, in general, is completely logical and natural, because this season is associated with snowfalls, blizzards, blizzards, snowdrifts.
In Sanskrit, this word sounds very poetic - the time of falling snows, and in Greek - the time of snow or the time of rains. There is also an unconfirmed assumption explaining the etymology. According to him, winter is the deity of the winter period, who was responsible for the corresponding season. Among the ancient Slavs in the pantheon of gods there was a deity - the cow Zemun (or Zimun), created by the creator of the world Rod. She lived on the island of Berezan, in the central part of which the mysterious Ripean mountains were located. A milk river flowed through them - just from the milk of the Zemun cow. In this case, associations with white, snowy color can be traced.
Winter is a sorceress: what is so remarkable about this time of year?
Winter is a sorceress, sorceress, queen. This is not a complete list of epithets that can be found in literature, and in everyday life in relation to winter. Why are these metaphorical expressions used? It's all about nature. Of course, winter is different in different regions. But in most of them in winter, ordinary streets, courtyards and houses are transformed, wrapped in a snow-white veil that hides all the imperfections of the world until spring.
An early winter morning is a wonderful sight. The first timid rays of the sun, piercing the frosty transparency of the air, crumpled sparrows, multicolored slowly swirling snowflakes. A winter evening is a limitless source of inspiration. They are long, long, touching, mesmerizing, as if inviting into a fairy tale. Winter is a sorceress and charms anyone who is ready to open up to meet her spell. The special winter holidays also add a bit of magic to this time of year - New Year, Christmas, Epiphany.
How did the expression "mother winter" appear?
In the Russian language there is a stable expression "mother winter", which can be heard quite often. And it, at first glance, is very contradictory, because winter is cold, cold, and mother is directly associated with care, warmth, affection.
But in this case, such an expression is not an indication of fertility, but just an opportunity to rest from strenuous field work. But why then did the peasants so impatiently await the arrival of spring? After all, a peaceful relaxing vacation is so great.
In fact, this stable expression confirms the fact that our ancestors lived in a different climatic zone, different from the modern middle zone in the order of the seasons. If we turn to Sanskrit again, we can find out that the word "hima" is consonant with the English humidity - humidity. And initially it meant a wet season, the opposite of a dry, summer one.
In Russian, -khim is present only in loan words. And if you analyze them, then they have nothing to do with the word "winter". But etymologically, the words "winter", "humus" (the top fertile layer of the soil), "humor" (humor) are actually related, since they are linked by common definitions "fertile", "moist", "favorable" and are derived phonetic forms from the same word.
If we analyze the word "summer" in the Indo-European lexical context, then it does not in any way evoke associations with fertility and grace. For example, in ancient Greek mythology there is an expression "sink into oblivion", that is, disappear without a trace. In German, there is a phonetically close to Russian "summer" leiche, and in English - late, which translates as "corpse" and "deceased", respectively. The analogies can be continued and continued until the ancient Greek titanide Leto, who gave birth to Zeus the twins Apollo and Artemis, who, as you know, were not distinguished by their modesty and pious behavior. In many countries, summer is a dry season, a time of death, in contrast to Russia, where it is favorable for life.
Thus, this expression goes hand in hand with the ethnos from the moment of leaving those areas where winter was a fertile, rainy, wet and fertile season, in contrast to the dry "dead" summer.
Mother, queen, sorceress, sorceress - all this is winter. And as much as we love other seasons, her arrival is inevitable, like the sunrise and sunset. And this means that you need to get the most out of this season and prepare for the coming seasons of the year so that there is something to remember.
The mood now is The soul sings and the heart cries ...
Harness the crows. I invite everyone to visit! I will show all the miracles, I will feed you lunch from the heart ... From you - gifts, toasts.
There is a special card in Russia. A fabulous country. Live in it: Kysh-Babay, Leshy, Kikimora, White mushroom, Santa Claus ... And three years ago
there was another fabulous place - residence Mothers - Winters in Yarensk, Lensky district, Arkhangelsk region.
Without hesitation for a long time, a group of Vperyod editorial staff with children of all ages, and some with grandchildren, went to visit our Arkhangelsk neighbors.
From Kazluk (borders of the Komi Republic with Arkhangelsk region) to Yarensk - a distance of 20 kilometers. Leaving Aikino (regional center
Ust-Vymsky district, Aikatyl in the local dialect) at 9 o'clock in the morning, at about 11 we were already in place - in just two hours.
In the courtyard of the residence of Mother Winter, we were met by the inhabitants of the fabulous Lena forest: Leshy, Kikimora and, as usual, Baba Yaga. And right there
on the street we had a game program with our motley group: we went fabulous skiing, took part in funny relay races, and threw felt boots at a distance.
Then we had an excursion around the residence of Mother Winter - a real winter Tale! Terem, where Winter moved in - an old merchant
House. The house is really "winter" both outside and inside. Stucco rooms and cold vaulted cellars. Very nice design
illumination in blue and white. Everywhere there are winter attributes and a lot of snowflakes. The house itself is much less pretentious than the apartments of Father Frost in Veliky Ustyug, more "homey".
The speech of the assistant of Zimushka sounds smoothly and melodiously, which tells how on December 21, 1882 in Yarensk there was a strong blizzard with By the north wind, "so the roofs of many houses were removed." And that night a daughter was born to Santa Claus and a snowstorm, and they named her Zimushka.
So much she liked in the Lena Territories that after one hundred and thirty years she decided to settle here: grow green grass under a snowy feather bed, store pickled icicles, canned Northern Lights, salted snowballs in birch tubs in her cellar and
keep icy jewels in an ancient heavy safe.
And here is Mother Winter herself! Despite fears, she turned out to be very nice and friendly. She said that in the old days winters were winters, and in summer, nothing got confused. Well, but when people began to interfere a lot in the course of weather affairs, confusion began.
Then they remembered about the mistress of snows and blizzards, called to live nearby ...
We listened with pleasure to the story of Winter, who showed her chambers. First, we visited Zimushki's office. And the children were amazed by the throne room. "If you sit on the snow throne, make a wish, it will certainly come true," said the sorceress Winter.
Then she took us to the refectory, where the dishes are all pure silver, and then to a cozy bedchamber. And there everything is as it should be - a bed with high feather beds and winter pillows - whatever winter sleeps, this will be the weather.
We visited the cellars, saw salted snowballs in a birch tub. Unfortunately, they were not allowed to try it (they were not salted yet!). And there are also pickled ones, but they say that from the tub they are the most delicious! After that, the doors of the treasury opened, and in the pantry we saw a safe with jewels that shone in special lighting like real diamonds. And each child put a coin in a special safe to come here again.
At the end of the excursion, we were invited to the workshop of Mother Winter, where experienced assistants of Winter conduct a master class on making snowflakes and other New Year's attributes. We were taught to make amulets. How everyone tried, both children and adults! And after all
no one left without a beautiful amulet! And in the shop, which is next to the workshops, one could buy souvenirs and handicrafts.
Then we were fed lunch in the dining room-refectory from Mother Winter, after the meal we were taken to the local museum of local lore, located in a former church.
In the local history museum of Yarensk, a real museum quest was waiting for us - attentiveness had to be turned on to the fullest! We not only visited the halls of the museum, got acquainted with the northern flora and fauna, but also learned Interesting Facts about the history of ancient Yarensk
and about its famous inhabitants, in a playful way answering the questions of the guide. And we also heard music from the beginning of the last century pouring from a working gramophone!
And bidding farewell to the hospitable Yarensk, the smallest representatives of our groups rode in a phaeton, which was carried along the snow-covered streets by a real fabulous horse.
... OUR CHILDREN LOVE A FAIRY TALE, and we try to present this fairy tale to them: we invite Santa Claus and the Snow Maiden, who will bring long-awaited gifts. Well, and we ourselves, adults, how are we different from children? Although we grew out of their age, we still hope that the New Year will give something very kind: our dreams will come true, and some miracle will happen in life ...
And, it turns out, the Fairy Tale is nearby - just a two-hour drive from the regional center. don't believe me?
Come to Yarensk, see for yourself.
December has come - the month of early twilight and anticipation of winter joys. Winter came. Crafts with cotton wool and sequins, paper snowflakes, Christmas trees and snowmen and the first garlands flickering on the windows are invariable signs of a special time that exist in all families with small children. In some houses, the walls are decorated with an Advent calendar - an amazing monument to mother's hard work and imagination, bags with surprises and tasks for every day.
Winter verses begin to sound in December
And in December, winter poems begin to sound. Even if during the year they hardly sound, the pre-holiday time is special. Most often they are taught at the Christmas tree - to school, to kindergarten, to Sunday school. Among them there are many good, but extremely "hackneyed" texts, learned by my grandmother when she was an Octobrist. And although “The girls got up in the circle, got up and fell silent” are excellent poems by Agniya Lvovna about the fun at the Christmas tree, sometimes you want something new, fresh and no less talented.
Here I tried to collect the most beautiful and melodic, deep and kind poems about winter, New Year and Christmas that can be learned with children. Among them there are both modern and time-tested texts, large and small, serious and funny. The main thing is that they create and maintain a feeling winter holidays- perhaps the best thing that happens to us in a cold winter time.
How winter comes
It is always a secret, news every year. Yesterday it was dirty and gray, today it was frosty and snowy, as if one world was replacing another. A small passage about this borderland of the seasons is in Pushkin's "Eugene Onegin" - however, there is about everything that is of any importance in the life of a Russian person.
Here is the north, catching up with clouds,
He breathed, howled - and now she
The winter sorceress is coming.
Came, crumbled; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees,
Laid down in wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills.
Brega with a motionless river
Equalized with a plump shroud;
Frost flashed, and we are glad
The pranks of mother winter.
The amazing power, depth and emotionality of these lines is understandable to the child - even at the level of the melody of the verse. These eleven lines contain a whole spectrum of moods - from mysterious and slightly ominous to good-naturedly cheerful. This is the whole Pushkin, in fact: I remember that at the university we were quoted a line from "The Captain's Daughter", depicting the well-known snow storm: "Everything was darkness and a whirlwind." Five little words that don't just explain - create before us is a clear and convex image.
The above passage, of course, requires a parental comment: "shreds", "shores" and "plump shroud" need explanation, especially for a preschooler. Otherwise, this melodious, sonorous text is perhaps the most graphic illustration of the beginning of winter.
And here is another, funny and sonorous, excerpt from the novel. It can be learned and read on occasion. This is also a small visual picture, accessible to understanding from 4-5 years old:
Prettier than fashionable parquet
The river shines, it is dressed with ice.
Boys are joyful people
She cuts the ice with her skates;
The goose is heavy on red legs,
Having conceived to swim in the bosom of the waters,
Steps gently on the ice
Slips and falls; happy
The first snow flashes,
Falling like stars on the shore.
The joy of the first snow and frost is always childish, even if you are already an adult
The arrival of winter is almost always a joy, and in poetry too. There is a lot of this feeling in the program poem of Afanasy Fet. The joy of the first snow and frost is always childish, even if you are already an adult. This is probably why one of the most beloved poems for memorization is this:
Mama! look out the window -
Know that yesterday was not for nothing that the cat
I washed my nose:
There is no dirt, the whole yard is dressed,
It brightened, turned white -
Apparently there is frost.
Not prickly, light blue
Frost is hung on the branches -
Look at least you!
As if someone is tough
Fresh, white, puffy cotton wool
I removed all the bushes.
Now there will be no dispute:
For a sled, and uphill
Fun to run!
Really, Mom? You will not refuse
And you yourself, probably, will say:
"Well, hurry up for a walk!"
This text is also surprising because it is an exception. Fet wrote it five years before his death, in the years of severe disappointments and gloomy thoughts, a premonition of death. And suddenly such pure, childish, unclouded joy - the more valuable it is for the reader.
The only word incomprehensible to a modern child here is “torovaty”. It has completely fallen out of use. However, you should not be afraid in advance of such archaisms: no, they will not confuse or scare the baby. It is unlikely that he will use them in speech, but they show the endless wealth of the world, show life in a historical perspective.
And here is another greeting to winter - it was created by Peter Vyazemsky. This wonderful poet is rarely remembered today - except perhaps by experts - but it's a pity. He subtly feels and talentedly conveys the joy and renewal that we feel at the beginning of winter.
Hello, in a white sundress
Of silver brocade!
Diamonds are burning on you
Like bright rays.
You are a life-giving smile
Fresh beauty of the face
You wake up to new feelings
Sleepy hearts!
Hello, Russian young girl,
A beautiful soul
Snow-white winch,
Hello mother winter!
A similar feeling reigns in the poem of Nikolai Rubtsov - and in fact, it has separated the poets for more than a century.
Snow fell and everything was forgotten.
Than the soul was full!
My heart suddenly started beating more easily.
As if I had drunk wine.
Along the street down the narrow
A clean breeze rushes
The beauty of old Russian
The town has been renewed.
Snow is falling on the temple of Sophia.
Children, and they are countless.
Snow flies all over Russia
Like good news.
Snow is flying - look and listen!
So, simple and cunning,
Life sometimes heals the soul ...
Well, okay! And good.
And here is a modern poem - it was written by Daria Gerasimova. Her poetic texts are good for their thoughtfulness, a special feeling of the surrounding world.
Childhood is not always fun, jumping and screaming: sometimes it is silent reflections
After all, childhood is not always fun, jumping and screaming: sometimes it is silent reflections.
WINTER EVENING
The wind sleeps on a blue tree
The rivers are sleeping, at home.
In the distance flies on a white wolf
Grandma Winter.
Snow is pouring from the mitten
Light wave.
And the blizzard birds sing
In the sky above me.
I walk in front of the house
Where is my old grandfather
Quiet in the rooms includes
Golden light.
Let it spin in the alley
Snow tape,
Let it run faster and faster
Grandma Winter.
Strikes the moon tambourine
Somewhere in the distance ...
And the fluffy snow melts
On my arm ...
And here is a poem with a completely different mood: a cross between a child's fantasy and a counting-book - cheerful, rhythmic and light, like the first snow. It is called “The First Snow”, and it was written more than a century ago by the remarkable Russian poet Sergei Gorodetsky, friend of Nikolai Gumilyov, poet, translator, fearless war correspondent of the First World War.
The month with the Sun began to be reckoned with,
Who should rise before,
One, two, three, four, five,
The wind came out to fly
He let the winged birds go,
A cloud of gray and shaggy.
Launched the firmament
Day and night it snows
And between the clouds, under the window,
Crying bitterly the Month with the Sun:
One, two, three, four, five.
Who should disperse the clouds?
Winter dreams
"Bewitched by the invisibility, the forest slumbers under the fairy tale of a dream", remember? Such a mood was close not only to Yesenin. It also appears in contemporary children's poetry. Because winter is actually an incredible wealth: colors, joys, life. You can run and roll in snowdrifts, sled and play snowballs, and then pensively watch the frozen world sink into a frosty sleep. Or sleep on your own - and grow, grow up in a dream.
NIGHT SONG
In the silence of the midnight
Snow fell on the roofs.
Milk tooth fell out
In the evening at Grisha's.
Snow covered the paths
And lay down on the rooftops.
Until the morning in the palm of your hand
Grisha had a tooth.
Snowdrifts will grow
Above rooftops and pipes ...
And closer to spring
The tooth will grow too!
This poem was written by Mikhail Yasnov. It looks like a lullaby - in rhythm, melody, and poetic pattern. And here is what kind of poetic text Andrei Usachev has - about the same, but look how different they are!
Quietly humming a fairy tale,
Winter floats in the twilight,
Covering with a warm blanket
Land and trees and houses.
Light snow swirls over the fields,
Like the stars are falling from the sky.
Lowering shaggy eyelashes,
A dense forest slumbers in silence.
Golden owls sleep on trees
In the fabulous glow of the moon.
Snowdrifts sleep at the edge of the forest,
Like big white elephants.
Everything changes shape and color,
Sleepy houses extinguish the windows
And winter, telling a tale,
Falls asleep slowly by itself ...
About winter warmth
Yes, that's right: winter teaches us to appreciate and love comfort, home, well, and warmth, of course. A special charm lies in this opposition of storm, frost, unpleasantness outside the window - and a warm, full of soft light at home. Here is another poem by Afanasy Fet - it is about this:
The cat sings, squinting his eyes,
The boy sleeps on the carpet
The storm is playing in the yard
The wind whistles in the yard.
"It's enough for you to roll around here,
Hide the toys and get up!
Come to me to say goodbye
And go to sleep for yourself. "
The boy stood up. And the cat's eyes
He walked around and sings everything;
Snow falls through the windows in shreds,
The storm whistles at the gate.
Oddly enough, it is this theme - home, comfort, peaceful evenings by the fire - that can prompt a parent to talk with a child about mercy. This topic was often raised in Russian Christmas prose - both by Dostoevsky in The Girl with Matches, and by Kuprin in The Miraculous Doctor, and in many other works.
The theme of home, comfort can motivate a parent to talk with a child about mercy.
When I'm warm and nourishing, the thought of someone's misfortune is like a gust of cold wind that rushes into a warm, cozy room. But these are important thoughts, and it is even more important that they turn into deeds. How - each parent decides in his own way, but talking about mercy in contrast to his own well-being is a fairly effective method.
I have an old children's book. Unfortunately, it was not reprinted, and few people now know about the wonderful poet Vitaly Tatarnikov. And he, meanwhile, owns excellent poems - kind and warm. For example:
There was a man in the world.
He treated sheep all his life.
Is it during the day
at night -
Knock-knock -
A shepherd came running to him.
The little man took the first aid kit
And he was in a hurry to save the sheep.
... The frost crackled in the fields,
Cold in earnest.
And the sheep
To little man
Presented a fur coat:
- Wear more fun
And don't get sick yourself!
And here is a poem by Yulia Simbirskaya, dedicated to ... the battery! Yes, even such a prosaic subject can become the hero of an excellent poetic text, lyrical and ironic at the same time.
She will dry on a hot back
My shoes soaked through.
I'll put my palms next to them.
In winter, I am friends with batteries
And the sweater is friendly, the mittens are friendly,
And the cat is huddling somewhere from the edge.
After all, heat is hiding in the battery.
I found such a house for the winter.
And gurgles like milk in a cat,
Heat in the battery in the stomach.
Winter joys and fun
"Feed the birds!" - wrote the poet Alexander Yashin. In fact, Igor Severyanin wrote about this simple and joyful winter affair much earlier - yes, the one who threatened to turn the tragedy of life into a dream-head "in a group of nervous girls, in a sharp ladies' society." And here - without losing his ironic and refined manner, he writes simply and loudly, about a picture of a winter day, about a moment in the life of a little girl:
HER PETS
She fed the winter birds
Throwing crumbs out the window.
From their funny calls
She laughed joyfully.
When she ran to school
Pets, hearing the snow crunch,
A gang of noisy and cheerful
Rush after her from bush to bush!
And here are the poems about snow and snowfall. They are different - perky, thoughtful, lyrical, full of irrepressible imagination, such a truly childish, premonition of winter wonders:
Our house is powdered
Almost to the windows
And the black sky
Polka dots today.
One hundred thousand peas.
No, one hundred million
Shoveling from the wings
Shoveling from balconies.
And only hot palms
He is afraid of heavenly peas.
Yulia Simbirskaya
SNOW WALTZ
Snow falls on people and houses,
Winter dances a waltz without an orchestra.
Large flakes are spinning in a ring
Fall, fall on my face
As if caressing. Dance white snow
You make us all happy.
Rimma Aldonina
HOW MUCH SNOW!
How much snow!
How much snow!
This is clearly not for running.
Obviously not for a pedestrian
This white weather.
This is for moving out,
This is for the squeal
For felting,
For a laugh!
So much snow
Here's the fun!
Rimma Aldonina
SNOWFALL
Snowdrifts near the house
Snowdrifts in the forest
Huge
Snowdrift
I'm wearing a hat.
On the hats of passers-by
With the arrival of winter -
The towers
Then the locks
They're just hills.
Or maybe it is
Not castles and lumps,
And the snow beasts
And snow fish
On hats around the city
They're coming, looking,
Like white flakes
They fly over the world.
Sat on hats
Foxes and owls
Dogs and cats
Elephants and cows
And with the bird
On the hat
My brother is walking
And whispers with delight:
"What a snowfall!"
Daria Gerasimova
Winter in nursery rhymes is precisely joy. Rolling and felting, home warmth, premonitions of the holidays. And good children's poets manage to find and show the reader this joy from an unexpected angle.
Winter in children's poetry is precisely joy. Rolling and felting, home warmth, premonitions of the holidays
But this is useful and important - to look at familiar things in a different way. For example, through the eyes of the four-legged character of Mikhail Yasnov's poem "Joy".
How joyful in the morning
Run down the steps
Forgetting about comfort
With steam heating,
About chairs and a table
Vacuum cleaner and sofa,
And bury your nose
Into frost and fog!
How glad to see
That you are welcome again
Pillars and corners
Garages and fences
Pull the leash
Contemplating an escape
And a skin like a rug
Brush on the snow!
And then there is the joy of creativity and imagination. As you know, they go hand in hand, and in a child they are completely devoid of boundaries and conventions. But they serve - if a small person grows in love - the kindest and brightest feelings. Here's how in a poem by Natalia Volkova, for example:
ON A WHITE LEAF
I draw a gray-gray hare.
In the distance, behind a snowdrift - a deep ravine,
There is a hidden enemy in the ravine!
Two sharp ears stick out of the snow -
The fox guards defenseless rabbits!
What to do?!
What to do?!
I do not play this way!
I erase the gray hare with an eraser.
On a white piece of paper in an oblique ruler
I paint a white and white hare.
And let them say that my drawing is empty ...
I hear bushes crunching,
I see footprints in the fluffy snow.
And I'll save the bunny from the enemy!
I really like Sasha Cherny's poem "On Skates" - it accurately conveys the emotion and atmosphere of winter skiing. True, learning it is not easy, despite its small size - it has a complex rhythmic pattern, and in order to tell it expressively, you need to skillfully place pauses and semantic accents. But it's worth it - especially for skating enthusiasts!
I rush like the wind on skates
Along the forest edge ...
Mittens on my hands
Hat on the crown ...
One or two! So I slipped ...
One and two! I almost tumbled ...
One or two! Tighter on your toes!
The ice crunched, quacked,
The wind is blowing from the right.
Christmas trees-wolves! Full speed -
From pond to ditch ...
One or two! On a slippery slope ...
One and two! Funny legs ...
One or two! On and on ...
New Year's poems
New Year for an Orthodox person is a difficult time. For an Orthodox parent, it is doubly difficult. It is important for me to maintain a balance, carefully lead the children past the December-January binge, not to lose the fragile and quiet feeling of the approaching Christmas. But I do not think it is right to turn off the kids completely from the traditional already festive atmosphere. Therefore - poetry.
Because good poetry will bypass vulgarity, rumble and drunken screams. Because they take from the holiday its most important innermost essence, the most sincere joy. These texts are easy to remember, perfectly recited, develop an aesthetic taste and do not completely hide the joy of the upcoming main holiday - the Nativity of Christ.
SILVER FIR
Silver Christmas tree
Grandpa brought us
Our grandfather brought home,
Like a kind Santa Claus.
She stands, delighting everyone,
And it shines by itself
So all smart
Like a hibernation winter.
To her Christmas tree sisters
Frost sings in the forest
And they are all funny
Celebrate the New Year.
Silver Christmas tree
Green saved
And ... a lot, a lot of joy
I brought it to the kids.
Vitaly Tatarnikov
GIFTS FOR YOUR TREE
Set of colored paper
For child labor -
Wizards and magicians
Come here!
For artists,
For artists
Scissors
And what else?
Still take
A big jar of glue
And everything that we cut
We will assemble and glue:
Paper garden,
Paper house
With the paper sun outside the window!
Scurrying through the golden branches
Silver birds
And white smoke settles
On red tiles.
It's so good that the world is colorful
And matte,
And glossy!
It's so good that I am
Big-eyed
AND BLUSH!
Mikhail Yasnov
WHERE DOES FATHER FROST GO?
Where did Santa Claus go?
to songs and fireworks?
Maybe he got on a steam locomotive
last minute?
Or climbed into a taxi at night,
to dash far away?
Or wandered into a dense forest
say goodbye to the cold?
Sailed to other cities
where is the sea or the rocks ...
I would never, never
did not let him go!
I said b, locking the door
and taking it by the handle:
- You will be a grandfather now,
and I am your granddaughter!
Dina Burachevskaya
TREES IN THE SNOW
Today is no longer yesterday, but today,
And the night is getting darker and everything is New Year's,
And all the endless, mysterious life,
And the tree went out
And the stars lit up.
In a dream, a sparrow chirped outside the window.
The beginning of the holidays! The beginning of the holidays!
And a slow day
And the flying night
And a book that you can't part with.
The snow drifts among the bare bushes.
I feel that something is happening in me.
But what?
I cannot answer myself.
And words melt like trees in the snow.
Mikhail Yasnov
Thank you, Christmas tree,
For this New Year!
For our cheerful, joyful
Childish round dance!
For being a kind Santa Claus
Warmed my red nose in the warmth
The Snow Maiden thawed
Giving gifts.
Thank you, Christmas tree,
For this spirit of the forest,
For being in a fierce cold
There was a breath of spring.
Let there be a blizzard outside the window
Noises, rages, spreads,
Thank you, Christmas tree,
For being with me!
Rimma Aldonina
NEW YEAR
Wait, don't wait, but New Year
Will definitely come.
He will come without delay
Without delay on the way
Will not break a promise
He can't help but come
With a new reality,
WITH a new tale
He will come at that very hour
Like a clock on the Spasskaya tower
We will be hit twelve times.
Rimma Aldonina
About the Nativity of Christ
There are not so many talented poems about the Nativity of Christ that a modern child can understand, feel and learn. The fact is that most of of these texts was written before the revolution - more than a century ago. There are many archaisms, Church Slavonic words in them - the theme itself presupposes. And it's hard.
Even the textbook "Christoslavs" ("Under the cover of the starry night") by Apollo of Corinth require explanations, and even after them, the child sometimes rattles a poem formally. There are practically no modern tests about Christmas that can be put on a par with the classics.
There are not so many talented poems about the Nativity of Christ that a child can understand
Therefore, I will cite a few - only five - poems that, as it seems to me, are able to comprehend and consciously learn a modern child of 5–8 years old. They are deep and clear. And it is important to hear and love them in childhood, I think.
CHRISTMAS
I slept in the manger on fresh hay
Quiet tiny Christ.
A month, emerging from the shadows,
I stroked the flax of His hair ...
The bull breathed into the baby's face
And, rustling like straw,
On an elastic knee
I looked at it, barely breathing.
Sparrows through the roof rails
They poured into the manger in a crowd,
And the bull, huddled against a niche,
I crumpled the blanket with my lip.
The dog, sneaking up to the warm leg,
Licked her secretly.
The cat was more comfortable
Warm the Child sideways in the manger ...
Quiet White Goat
I breathed on His forehead,
Only a stupid gray donkey
He pushed everyone helplessly:
“Look at the Child
At least a minute for me! "
And he cried loudly and loudly
In the silence before dawn ...
And Christ, opening his eyes,
Suddenly pushed apart the circle of beasts
And with a smile full of affection
Whispered: "Look quickly!"
Sasha Cherny
Brightly starry rays
The blue sky shines ...
- Why, tell me, mom,
The stars are brighter in the sky
On Holy Christmas Eve?
Like a tree in the mountain world
This midnight is lit
And with diamond lights
And with the radiance of the radiant stars
Is she all decorated?
- True, my son, in God's sky
In the night of the present saint
The tree is lit for the world,
And full of wonderful gifts
For the family, she is human.
See how bright the stars are
Shine to the world there, in the distance:
Holy gifts shine in them -
For people - goodwill,
Peace and truth is for the earth.
Heinrich Heine
There are countries where people have not known for centuries
No blizzards, no loose snow;
There only glittering snow
Tops of granite ridges ...
The flowers are more fragrant there, the stars are larger,
Spring is brighter and more elegant
And the feathers of birds are brighter there, and warmer
There is a sea wave breathing ...
In such and such a country on a fragrant night,
Whispering laurels and roses
The desired miracle happened with my own eyes:
The Christ Child was born.
Semyon Nadson
Christmas haze all around.
Bells are buzzing in the darkness
And with them the words sound in tune:
"Peace on earth and happiness to everyone!"
I felt like on this day
Life of towns and villages
Combining, the call sounds:
"Peace on earth and happiness to everyone!"
Henry Longfellow
A CHILDREN IN THE FOREST
Tying the riza crosswise,
Tying a candle to a stick,
The angel is small,
Flies like a forest, light-colored.
In the snow-white silence
Flutters from pine to pine,
Touches a twig with a candle -
A light will crack, flare up,
Will round, tremble,
Like a thread, it will run
Here and there, and here, and here ...
The whole winter forest shines!
As light as snow down
Christmas winged spirit
Light up the skies
Brings the holiday to the woods
So that from heaven and earth
The lights could meet
So that between heaven and earth
Another ray lit up,
So that from the light of small candles
Long beam like a sharp sword
I pierced my heart with light
He indicated the wrong path.
Alexander Blok
And I want to finish my review with the poem "Christmas" by Alexander Blok. It is quite well-known, but, it seems to me, it cannot get bored: every year you can read it, feeling inside the resounding joy and anticipation of Christmas and Christmastide.
Ringing bell strike
Wakes up the winter air.
We work for a reason -
Rest will be light.
Light frost is silver
Near the entrance,
Silver on blue
The clear firmament of the star.
How transparent, snow-white
Shine patterned windows!
How fluffy and softly tender
Your golden curl!
How thin you are in a red coat,
With a bow in a pigtail!
If you laugh, your lips will flinch
Eyelashes tremble.
You amuse all the passers-by -
Young and old
Ugly and handsome,
Thick and lean.
Wonder, smile,
Will fly far away
As if at all, how they laugh
Children did not see.
The sisters will be happy with the dolls
Brothers ask for guns
And you don't need it at all
No toys.
You will decorate the tree yourself
Into the stars of gold
And you will tie it to a branch with a chop
The apples are big.
You will throw beads on the tree
Gold threads.
You will push the strong branches
You shout: "Look!"
You shout, pick up the branch,
Thin hands ...
And already there the grandfather laughs
With a white mustache!
