Autumn is “a sad time...”, the favorite time of year for poets, philosophers, romantics and melancholics. Poems about autumn will “swirl” with words-winds, “drizzle” with stanzas-rains, “are replete” with epithets-leaves... Feel the breath of autumn in autumn poems for children and adults.
see also
Autumn poems for children, poems by Pushkin, Yesenin, Bunin about autumn
Poems about autumn: A. S. Pushkin
It's a sad time! Ouch charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the lush decay of nature,
Forests dressed in scarlet and gold,
In their canopy there is noise and fresh breath,
And the skies are covered with wavy darkness,
And a rare ray of sunshine, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.
AUTUMN
(excerpt)
October has already arrived - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn chill has blown in - the road is freezing.
The stream still runs babbling behind the mill,
But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
To the departing fields with my desire,
And the winter ones suffer from mad fun,
And the barking of dogs wakes up the sleeping oak forests.
The sky was already breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less often,
The day was getting shorter
Mysterious forest canopy
She stripped herself naked with a sad noise.
Fog lay over the fields,
Noisy caravan of geese
Stretched to the south: approaching
Quite a boring time;
It was already November outside the yard.
Poems about autumn:
Agniya Barto
JOKE ABOUT SHUROCHKA
Leaf fall, leaf fall,
The whole team rushed to the garden,
Shurochka came running.
The leaves (can you hear?) rustle:
Shurochka, Shurochka...
Shower of lace leaves
Rustle about her alone:
Shurochka, Shurochka...
Swept three leaves,
I approached the teacher:
- Things are going well!
(I’m working hard, keep in mind, they say,
Praise Shurochka,
Shurochka, Shurochka...)
How does the link work?
Shura doesn't care
Just to point out
Whether in the classroom, or in the newspaper,
Shurochka, Shurochka...
Leaf fall, leaf fall,
The garden is buried in leaves,
The leaves rustle sadly:
Shurochka, Shurochka...
Poems about autumn:
Alexey Pleshcheev
Boring picture!
Endless clouds
The rain keeps pouring down
Puddles by the porch...
Stunted rowan
Gets wet under the window
Looks at the village
A gray spot.
Why are you visiting early?
Has autumn come to us?
The heart still asks
Light and warmth!..
AUTUMN SONG
Summer has passed
Autumn has arrived.
In the fields and groves
Empty and sad.
The birds have flown away
The days have become shorter
The sun is not visible
Dark, dark nights.
AUTUMN
Autumn has come
The flowers have dried up,
And they look sad
Bare bushes.
Withers and turns yellow
Grass in the meadows
It's just turning green
Winter in the fields.
A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field,
The rain is drizzling..
The waters began to rustle
of the fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warmer climes.
Poems about autumn:
Ivan Bunin
LEAF FALL
The forest is like a painted tower,
Lilac, gold, crimson,
A cheerful, motley wall
Standing above a bright clearing.
Birch trees with yellow carving
Glisten in the blue azure,
Like towers, the fir trees are darkening,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there through the foliage
Clearances in the sky, like a window.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
Over the summer it dried out from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
Enters his motley mansion...
There are dry corn stalks in the fields,
Wheel marks and faded tops.
In the cold sea - pale jellyfish
And red underwater grass.
Fields and autumn. Sea and naked
Cliffs of rocks. It's night and here we go
To the dark shore. At sea - lethargy
In all its great mystery.
“Can you see the water?” - “I see only mercury
Foggy shine..." Neither sky nor earth.
Only the shine of stars hangs below us - in the muddy
Bottomless phosphoric dust.
Poems about autumn:
Boris Pasternak
GOLD AUTUMN
Autumn. Fairytale palace
Open for everyone to review.
Clearings of forest roads,
Looking into the lakes.
Like at a painting exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm, ash, aspen
Unprecedented in gilding.
Linden gold hoop -
Like a crown on a newlywed.
The face of a birch tree - under a veil
Bridal and transparent.
Buried land
Under leaves in ditches, holes.
In the yellow maple outbuildings,
As if in gilded frames.
Where are the trees in September
At dawn they stand in pairs,
And the sunset on their bark
Leaves an amber trail.
Where you can't step into a ravine,
So that everyone doesn't know:
It's so raging that not a single step
There is a tree leaf underfoot.
Where it sounds at the end of the alleys
Echo at a steep descent
And dawn cherry glue
Solidifies in the form of a clot.
Autumn. Ancient Corner
Old books, clothes, weapons,
Where is the treasure catalog
Flipping through the cold.
Poems about autumn:
Nikolay Nekrasov
UNCOMPRESSED BAND
Late fall. The rooks have flown away
The forest is bare, the fields are empty,
Only one strip is not compressed...
She makes me sad.
The ears seem to whisper to each other:
“It’s boring for us to listen to the autumn blizzard,
It's boring to bow down to the ground,
Fat grains bathing in dust!
Every night we are ruined by the villages1
Every passing voracious bird,
The hare tramples us, and the storm beats us...
Where is our plowman? what else is waiting?
Or are we worse born than others?
Or did they bloom and spike unharmoniously?
No! we are no worse than others - and for a long time
The grain has filled and ripened within us.
It was not for this reason that he plowed and sowed
So that the autumn wind will scatter us?..”
The wind brings them a sad answer:
- Your plowman has no urine.
He knew why he plowed and sowed,
Yes, I didn’t have the strength to start the work.
The poor fellow is feeling bad - he doesn’t eat or drink,
The worm is sucking his aching heart,
The hands that made these furrows,
They dried up into slivers and hung like whips.
As if laying your hand on a plow,
The plowman walked thoughtfully along the strip.
Poems about autumn:
Agniya Barto
We didn't notice the bug
And the winter frames were closed,
And he's alive, he's alive for now,
Buzzing in the window
Spreading my wings...
And I call my mother for help:
-There's a living beetle there!
Let's open the frame!
Poems about autumn:
V. Stepanov
SPARROW
Autumn looked into the garden -
The birds have flown away.
There's rustling outside the window in the morning
Yellow snowstorms.
The first ice is underfoot
It crumbles, breaks.
The sparrow in the garden will sigh,
And sing -
Shy.
Poems about autumn:
Konstantin Balmont
AUTUMN
Lingonberries are ripening,
The days have become colder,
And from the bird's cry
My heart became sadder.
Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In a multi-colored dress.
The sun laughs less often
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And he will cry sleepily.
Poems about autumn:
Apollo Maykov
AUTUMN
There's already a golden leaf covering
Wet soil in the forest...
I boldly trample my foot
The beauty of the spring forest.
Cheeks burn from the cold;
I like to run in the forest,
Hear the branches crack,
Rake the leaves with your feet!
I don’t have the same joys here!
The forest took away the secret:
The last nut has been picked
The last flower has tied;
The moss is not raised, not dug up
A pile of curly milk mushrooms;
Doesn't hang near the stump
Purple of lingonberry clusters;
Lying on the leaves for a long time
The nights are frosty, and through the forest
Looks kind of cold
The clarity of transparent skies...
The leaves rustle underfoot;
Death lays down its harvest...
Only I am happy at heart
And I sing like crazy!
I know, it’s not for nothing that among the moss
I picked early snowdrops;
Down to the autumn colors
Every flower I met.
What did the soul tell them?
What did they tell her?
I will remember, breathing with happiness,
On winter nights and days!
The leaves rustle underfoot...
Death is laying down its harvest!
Only I am happy at heart -
And I sing like crazy!
Autumn leaves are circling in the wind,
Autumn leaves cry out in alarm:
“Everything is dying, everything is dying! You are black and naked
O our dear forest, your end has come!”
Their royal forest does not hear the alarm.
Under the dark azure of harsh skies
He was swaddled by mighty dreams,
And the strength for a new spring matures in him.
Poems about autumn:
Nikolay Ogarev
IN AUTUMN
How good the spring bliss was sometimes -
And the soft freshness of green herbs,
And leaves of young fragrant shoots
Along the trembling branches of the awakened oak forests,
And the day has a luxurious and warm glow,
And a gentle fusion of bright colors!
But you are closer to my heart, autumn tides,
When a tired forest falls on the soil of a compressed cornfield
The yellowed leaves are blowing with a whisper,
And the sun later from the desert heights,
Filled with bright despondency, he looks...
So the peaceful memory silently illuminates
And past happiness and past dreams.
Poems about autumn:
Alexander Tvardovsky
NOVEMBER
The Christmas tree has become more noticeable in the forest,
It is tidied up before dark and is empty.
And naked as a broom,
Clogged with mud by the dirt road,
Blown by ash frost,
The vine bush trembles and whistles.
Between the thinning tops
Blue appeared.
Made a noise at the edges
Bright yellow foliage.
You can't hear the birds. Small cracks
Broken branch
And, flashing its tail, a squirrel
The light one makes a jump.
The spruce tree has become more noticeable in the forest,
Protects dense shade.
The last aspen boletus
He pulled his hat on one side.
Poems about autumn:
Afanasy Fet
IN AUTUMN
When the end-to-end web
Spreads threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant gospel is heard more clearly,
We're not sad, scared again
The breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer
We understand more clearly.
Poems about autumn:
Fedor Tyutchev
There is in the initial autumn
A short but wonderful time -
The whole day is like crystal,
And the evenings are radiant...
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But the first winter storms are still far away
And pure and warm azure flows
To the resting field...
Poems about autumn:
Sergey Yesenin
The fields are compressed, the groves are bare,
Water causes fog and dampness.
Wheel behind the blue mountains
The sun went down quietly.
The dug-up road sleeps.
Today she dreamed
Which is very, very little
All we have to do is wait for the gray winter...
Children's poems about autumn
E. Trutneva
In the morning we go to the yard -
Leaves are falling like rain,
They rustle underfoot
And they fly... they fly... they fly...
Cobwebs fly by
With spiders in the middle,
And high from the ground
The cranes flew by.
Everything is flying! This must be
Our summer is flying away.
A. Berlova
NOVEMBER
Hands get cold in November:
Cold, wind outside,
Late autumn brings
First snow and first ice.
SEPTEMBER
Autumn has brought out the colors,
She needs a lot of painting:
Leaves are yellow and red,
Gray – the sky and puddles.
OCTOBER
It's been raining since morning,
It's pouring like a bucket,
And like big flowers
Umbrellas open.
****
M. Isakovsky
AUTUMN
The crops have been harvested, the hay has been cut,
Both the suffering and the heat have gone away.
Drowning in foliage knee-deep,
Autumn is in the yard again.
Golden shocks of straw
They lie on collective farm currents.
And guys dear friend
They are in a hurry to go to school.
****
A. Balonsky
IN THE FOREST
Leaves swirl over the path.
The forest is transparent and crimson...
It's good to wander with a basket
Along the edges and clearings!
We are walking, and under our feet
A golden rustle is heard.
Smells like wet mushrooms
It smells like forest freshness.
And behind the foggy haze
The river sparkles in the distance.
Spread it out in the clearings
Autumn yellow silk.
A cheerful ray through the needles
He penetrated into the thicket of the spruce forest.
Good for wet trees
Remove the elastic boletus!
There are beautiful maples on the hillocks
Scarlet flames burst into flames...
How many saffron milk caps, honey fungus
We'll pick it up in the grove in a day!
Autumn is walking through the forests.
There is no time more beautiful than this...
And in baskets we carry away
Forests are generous gifts.
Y. Kasparova
NOVEMBER
Forest animals in November
They close the doors in the minks.
Brown bear until spring
He will sleep and dream.
SEPTEMBER
Birds flew in the sky.
Why can't they stay at home?
September asks them: “In the south
Hide from the winter blizzard."
OCTOBER
October brought us gifts:
Painted gardens and parks,
The leaves became like something out of a fairy tale.
Where did he get so much paint?
I. Tokmakova
SEPTEMBER
Summer is ending
Summer is ending!
And the sun doesn't shine
And he's hiding somewhere.
And the rain is first grade,
A little timid
In an oblique ruler
Lines the window.
Y. Kasparova
AUTUMN LEAVES
The leaves are dancing, the leaves are spinning
And they fall under my feet like a bright carpet.
It's like they're terribly busy
Green, red and gold...
Maple leaves, oak leaves,
Purple, scarlet, even burgundy...
I throw my leaves up at random -
I can arrange leaf fall too!
AUTUMN MORNING
The yellow maple looks into the lake,
Waking up at dawn.
The ground froze overnight,
All the hazel is in silver.
The belated redhead shudders,
Pressed down by a broken branch.
On his chilled skin
The light drops tremble.
Scared away the alarming silence
In a lightly dormant forest
Moose roam cautiously,
They gnaw the bitter bark.
****
M. Sadovsky
AUTUMN
The birches have unbraided their braids,
The maples clapped their hands,
The cold winds have come
And the poplars were flooded.
The willows have drooped by the pond,
The aspen trees began to tremble,
Oak trees, always huge,
It's like they've become smaller.
Everything became quiet. Shrunk.
Drooped. Turned yellow.
Only the Christmas tree is beautiful
Looked better by winter
****
O. Vysotskaya
AUTUMN
Autumn days,
There are large puddles in the garden.
The last leaves
The cold wind swirls.
There are yellow leaves,
There are red leaves.
Let's put it in a wallet
We are different leaves!
The room will be beautiful
Mom will say “thank you” to us!
****
Z. Alexandrova
TO SCHOOL
Yellow leaves are flying,
It's a fun day.
Sees off kindergarten
The kids are going to school.
Our flowers have faded,
Birds fly away.
- You are going for the first time,
Study in first grade.
Sad dolls sitting
On an empty terrace.
Our cheerful kindergarten
Reminisce in class.
Remember the garden
A river in the far field.
We are also in a year
We'll be with you at school.
The sky was already breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less often,
The day was getting shorter
Mysterious forest canopy
She stripped herself naked with a sad noise.
Fog lay over the fields,
Noisy caravan of geese
Stretched to the south: approaching
Quite a boring time;
It was already November outside the yard.
(A.S. Pushkin)
It's a sad time! charm of the eyes!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the lush decay of nature,
Forests dressed in scarlet and gold,
In their canopy there is noise and fresh breath,
And the skies are covered with wavy darkness,
And a rare ray of sunshine, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.
(A.S. Pushkin)
There is in the initial autumn
A short but wonderful time -
The whole day is like crystal,
And the evenings are radiant...
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But the first winter storms are still far away
And pure and warm azure flows
To the resting field...
(F.I. Tyutchev)
AUTUMN EVENING
There are in the brightness of autumn evenings
Touching, mysterious charm:
The ominous shine and diversity of trees,
Crimson leaves languid, light rustle,
Misty and quiet azure
Over the sad orphaned land,
And, like a premonition of descending storms,
Gusty, cold wind at times,
Damage, exhaustion - and everything
That gentle smile of fading,
What in a rational being we call
Divine modesty of suffering.
(F.I. Tyutchev)
Enveloped in a thing of drowsiness,
The half-naked forest is sad...
Of the summer leaves perhaps the hundredth,
Shining with autumn gilding,
There is still rustling on the branches.
I look with tender sympathy,
When, breaking through from behind the clouds,
Suddenly through the dotted trees,
With their old and weary leaves,
A lightning beam will burst forth!
How fadingly cute!
What a delight it is for us,
When, what bloomed and lived like this,
Now, so weak and frail,
Smile for the last time!..
(F.I. Tyutchev)
BEFORE THE RAIN
The mournful wind drives
The clouds are flocking to the edge of heaven.
The broken spruce groans,
The dark forest whispers dully.
To a stream, pockmarked and motley,
A leaf flies after a leaf,
And a stream, dry and sharp;
It's getting cold.
Twilight falls over everything,
Hitting from all sides,
Spinning in the air screaming
A flock of jackdaws and crows...
(N. Nekrasov)
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
Fragile ice on the icy river
It lies like melting sugar;
Near the forest, like in a soft bed,
You can get a good night's sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not yet had time to fade,
Yellow and fresh, they lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! Frosty nights
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi,
And moss swamps and stumps -
Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Everywhere I recognize my native Rus'...
I fly quickly on cast iron rails,
I think my thoughts...
(N. Nekrasov)
Just yesterday, blazing in the sun,
The forest was the last to tremble its leaves,
And the winter, turning lushly green,
She lay like a velvet carpet.
...Today suddenly summer disappeared;
White, lifeless all around,
Earth and sky - everything is dressed -
Some kind of dull silver...
The swallows have disappeared
And yesterday dawned
All the rooks were flying
Yes, how the network flashed
Over there over that mountain.
I've been sleeping since the evening,
It's dark outside.
The dry leaf falls
At night the wind gets angry
Yes, he knocks on the window.
It would be better if there was snow and a blizzard
Glad to meet you with breasts!
As if in fright
Shouting out to the south
The cranes are flying.
You will go out - involuntarily
It’s hard - at least cry!
Looking across the field
Tumbleweed
Bounces like a ball
AUTUMN ROSE
The forest has crumbled its peaks,
The garden has revealed its brow,
September has died, and dahlias
The breath of the night burned.
But in a breath of frost
Among the dead is one,
Only you alone, Queen Rose,
Fragrant and lush.
In spite of cruel trials
And the anger of the dying day
You are the outline and breath
In the spring you blow on me.
How sad the dark days are
Soundless and cold autumn!
What joyless languor
They are asking to enter our souls!
But there are also days when there is blood
Gold leaf decorations
Burning autumn looks for the eyes
And the sultry whims of love.
Bashful sadness is silent,
Only the defiant is heard,
And, freezing so magnificently,
She no longer regrets anything.
The leaves are falling, falling.
In our garden the leaves are falling...
Yellow, red leaves
They curl and fly in the wind.
Birds fly south
Geese, rooks, cranes.
This is the last flock
Flapping its wings in the distance.
Let's take each basket in our hands,
Let's go to the forest to pick mushrooms,
The stumps and paths smell
Delicious autumn mushroom.
“The sky was already breathing in autumn...” Alexander Pushkin
The sky was already breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less often,
The day was getting shorter
Mysterious forest canopy
With a sad noise she stripped herself,
Fog lay over the fields,
Noisy caravan of geese
Stretched to the south: approaching
Quite a boring time;
It was already November outside the yard.
Analysis of Pushkin’s poem “The sky was already breathing in autumn...”
The poem “The sky was already breathing in autumn...” is mandatory for study in primary school. Children in the second grade listen to these lines and with their help become imbued with the magical atmosphere of Russian autumn. In addition, this work allows students to appreciate the poetic talent of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin.
It is interesting that, despite its wide popularity, this poem is not an independent work. It is a fragment of stanza XL of the fourth chapter of the novel “Eugene Onegin”. This passage has an unusual fate. It was created between October 1824 and January 1825. Originally the following part
The sky was already breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less often...
was placed in stanza XXIV, but then the poet moved it to the fortieth stanza.
Already from the above lines, the reader can note how various poetic techniques the author used to convey his enthusiastic awe when contemplating the autumn beauties. The anaphora in this fragment emphasizes how nature inexorably changes, how summer fades away.
These lines reveal the poet’s love for his homeland. Notice how affectionately Alexander Sergeevich calls the heavenly body “sun”, as if it were a living creature dear to the author. Even the author’s sky is animated. If in other works the heavens act as a setting for more important events, then in Pushkin it itself is a character. It inhales smells in order to concentrate them and transmit them to the poet enjoying the autumn views.
The epithets used in the work deserve detailed consideration. The expressions that the poet chooses to depict natural phenomena allow the reader to easily imagine these things. Here, for example, is the phrase “mysterious forest canopy.” Thanks to the effective epithet, we can see in our mind's eye the once impenetrable thicket, gradually losing its dense foliage and acquiring blurriness and transparency. Our hearing brings to us an indistinct rustling, characterized by the poet as a “sad noise,” with which the curved branches of the trees are exposed.
You should pay attention to the metaphor with which the author describes a flock of birds:
Noisy caravan of geese
Reached south...
This is not an expression you would expect to find in relation to geese, since it is usually used only in relation to pack animals. The word “caravan” itself supposedly comes from the Sanskrit “camel” (according to another version, “elephant”). But this metaphor very accurately conveys the impression of a long chain of birds, fattened over the summer, slowly moving across the sky.
The autumn month, mentioned at the end of the poem, also acts as an independent hero. Animated November resembles an impatient unexpected guest who is waiting at the door: “November was already at the yard.”
This poem is an excellent example of Pushkin's landscape lyrics. In him amazing paintings presented using effective literary techniques, thanks to which the reader is easily imbued with the mood of Russian autumn.
Autumn is golden...
It can be very different. For some, autumn is a beautiful, golden-haired artist who paints everything around with her magical colors; for others, autumn is a dull time, with drizzling rains, sad, dreary. For many, autumn is an opportunity to go into the forest, rustle the leaves, and harvest vegetables and fruits.
Autumn is very different. The days are getting shorter so quickly that you begin to absorb more light and colors, because there is a long and cold winter ahead. I want to enjoy the last beautiful days.
Walking in the park, in the forest, watching from the window as raindrops flow from the glass, we often recall the beautiful lines of poems about autumn by our classics. Poets sang of autumn, the beauty of nature, the gold of foliage, the coolness autumn days. beautiful, sometimes sad, convey the mood of the poets. Pushkin, Nekrasov, Yesenin, in their poems about autumn, conveyed their attitude to this time of year so talentedly that when reading certain lines, you imagine the whole picture.
Children learn classic poems about autumn at school. So my granddaughter read, learned by heart the poems of Pushkin, Fet, Belmont, and I remembered all these wonderful lines with her.
The poetry of the “eyes of enchantment” period enchants us with its beauty and immerses us in a romantic mood. Let's dive into the world of beauty today and remember the wonderful poems of our poets about autumn.
Beautiful poems dedicated to the autumn season are read by both adults and children. Some people read to their children and grandchildren, others memorize them according to the school curriculum.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
The sky was already breathing in autumn....
The sky was already breathing in autumn.
The sun shone less often,
The day was getting shorter
Mysterious forest canopy
With a sad noise she stripped herself,
Fog lay over the fields,
Noisy caravan of geese
Stretched to the south: approaching
Quite a boring time;
It was already November outside the yard.
It's a sad time! Ouch charm!..
It's a sad time! Ouch charm!
I am pleased with your farewell beauty -
I love the lush decay of nature,
Forests dressed in scarlet and gold,
In their canopy there is noise and fresh breath,
And a rare ray of sunshine. and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.
F. Tyutchev
There is in the initial autumn
There is in the initial autumn
A short but wonderful time -
The whole day is like crystal,
And the evenings are radiant...
Where the cheerful sickle walked and the ear fell,
Now everything is empty - space is everywhere -
Only a web of thin hair
Glistens on the idle furrow.
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But the first winter storms are still far away -
And pure and light azure flows
To the resting field...
Many people have known Belmont's poems since childhood. It helps develop speech, memory, introduces us to beautiful time year autumn.
K. Belmont "Autumn"
Lingonberries are ripening,
The days have become colder,
And from the bird's cry
My heart became sadder.
Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In a multi-colored dress.
The sun laughs less often
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And he will cry sleepily.
Autumn in the poems of Russian poets is thoughtful, sad, mysterious. The poems betray the mood of tired nature. Poems about Indian summer, about autumn rain, about sad cloudy days of late autumn.
Nature in autumn in a poem by A. Pleshcheev
Boring picture!
Endless clouds
The rain keeps pouring down
Puddles by the porch...
Stunted rowan
It gets wet outside the window;
Looks at the village
A gray spot.
Why are you visiting early?
Has autumn come to us?
The heart still asks
Light and warmth!
Everyone is not happy with you!
Your sad look
Woe and adversity
It promises to the poor.
He hears in advance
Children screaming and crying;
No warm clothes
There is no wood in the stove...
Whose autumn are you for?
Hastened the call?
He's thin and pale
The patient is hunched over...
How glad he was of the sun,
How cheerful I was in the spring!
And now - it leads
Yellow leaves noise
For a sick soul
A swarm of ominous thoughts!
Early, early, autumn,
Came to visit us...
Many can't wait
Light and warmth...
F. Fet
The swallows have disappeared.
And yesterday dawned
All the rooks flashed
Over there over that mountain.
Everyone sleeps in the evening,
It's dark outside.
The dry leaf falls
At night the wind gets angry
Yes, he knocks on the window.
It would be better if there was snow and a blizzard
Glad to meet you with breasts!
As if in fright
Shouting out to the south,
The cranes are flying.
You will go out - involuntarily
It’s hard, even if you cry!
Look across the field
Tumbleweed
Bounces like a ball.
Autumn in the poems of the classics is refined, gentle, wise. Everything is intertwined: sadness, longing, joy, love. Touching words, rhymes. everything emphasizes the beauty of Russian nature.
Ivan Bunin
The forest is like a painted tower,
Lilac, gold, crimson,
A cheerful motley wall
Standing above a bright clearing.
Birch trees, yellow carving
Glisten in the blue azure,
Like towers, the fir trees are darkening,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there through the foliage
Clearances in the sky, like a window.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
Over the summer it dried out from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
Enters his motley mansion...
M. Yu. Lermontov “Autumn”
The leaves in the field have turned yellow,
And they circle and fly;
Only in the forest they ate withered
They keep gloomy greenery.
Under the overhanging rock
He really doesn’t like it, between the flowers.
Plowman, take some time to rest
From midday labors.
Beast, brave, unwillingly
He is in a hurry to hide somewhere.
At night the month is dim. and field
Through the fog it only shines silver.
Boris Pasternak
Autumn. Fairytale palace
Open for everyone to review.
Clearings of forest roads,
Looking into the lakes.
Like at a painting exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm trees, ash trees, aspen trees
Unprecedented in gilding.
Linden gold hoop -
Like a crown on a newlywed.
The face of a birch tree - under a veil
Wedding and transparent.
Buried land
Under leaves in ditches, holes.
In the yellow maple outbuildings,
As if in gilded frames.
Where are the trees in September
At dawn they stand in pairs.
And the sunset on their bark
Leaves an amber trail.
Where you can't step into a ravine,
So that everyone doesn't know:
It's so raging that not a single step
There is a tree leaf underfoot.
Where it sounds at the end of the alleys
Echo at a steep descent
And dawn cherry glue
Solidifies in the form of a clot.
Autumn. Ancient Corner
Old books, clothes, weapons,
Where is the treasure catalog
Flipping through the cold.
These are the wonderful lines of classical poets that we remembered today. What poems do you like about autumn by Russian poets? Write in the comments.
Class: 2
Presentation for the lesson
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Lesson objectives:
- to form the foundations of reading activity: the ability to work with poetic text, teach to see and understand the beauty of nature, express one’s attitude towards nature;
- develop expressive speech skills, the ability to define concepts: comparison, rhyme, logical stress, pause;
- enrich the reader's experience (expanding the reader's knowledge about the poetry of A.S. Pushkin).
Equipment:
- textbook by Efrosinin L.A., grade 2, part 1;
- notebook " Literary reading”, children's drawings about autumn, presentation, musical excerpts.
Presentation for the lesson.
1. Organizational moment.
- What is the lesson now?
– Check your readiness for the lesson.
2. Checking homework.
Exhibition of children's drawings.
-What was your homework?
– What autumn pictures did you paint?
– What mood did you want to convey?
– What colors predominate in your works? Why?
3. Updating knowledge. Conversation.
There is a time of the year when the earth puts on its most expensive clothes.
These days it seems that the earth is starting to glow. The beauty of autumn is especially visible in the forest.
– Have you ever been in the forest in the fall?
– Wander in silence along forest paths?
– What feelings do you experience when you walk along a path in the autumn forest?
Teacher: At such an hour you feel a special connection with nature, with the Motherland, you understand that you are a part of this earth and the earth belongs to you.
October is coming to an end. Late autumn is approaching. There are no singing birds and few flowering plants. It rains, the sun shines less often, the fields are empty. Birds fly away. Gardens, groves, and forests become bare and transparent. Many works of painting, music, and literature are devoted to the depiction of different seasons, especially autumn.
4. Statement of the educational problem.
Over the course of several lessons we will talk about autumn. Let's get acquainted with the works of Russian writers and poets. We will learn to read expressively, develop memory, learn to speak beautifully. Let us become imbued with the understanding that nature must be treated with care, we will learn to see and appreciate the beauty of nature.
5. Introduction of new knowledge.
1) I would like to start studying the topic with the words of a poet.
Read these lines. Who do you think is their author?
The days of late autumn are usually scolded,
But she’s sweet to me, dear reader,
Quiet beauty, shining humbly.
To tell you frankly,
Of the annual times, I am glad only for her.
That's right - these are the words of A.S. Pushkin. The poet's favorite season is autumn.
2) Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin! (Presentation by A.S. Pushkin)
When was the first time each of us heard this name?
Maybe in the cradle, when you listened to your grandmother’s melodious singing?
Or, lying in bed, listening to wonderful fairy tales that mom read?
Pushkin comes to us in early childhood and stays with us for the rest of his life.
It is difficult to find a person who does not know or love the wonderful works of this poet.
During his lifetime he was called “the never-setting sun of Russian poetry.”
And although more than 200 years have passed since his birth, our love for him does not weaken.
Blessed is both the day and the hour,
When with the warmth of your home
For the first time to each of us
Pushkin's word comes.
G. Gots
6. Physical education minute
Imagine that we are in the autumn forest and walking along the paths. How did you see the autumn forest?
So we stopped and
Hands raised and shook
These are trees in the forest.
Hands bent
The brushes were shaken
The wind blows away the dew
To the side of the hand
Let's wave smoothly
These are the birds flying towards us.
We'll also show you how they sit down.
The wings were folded back.
7. Listening to a poem.
1) Now let’s listen to how A.S. Pushkin describes autumn in his poem (reading of a poem by the teacher accompanied by music):
The sky was already breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less often,
The day was getting shorter
Mysterious forest canopy
She stripped herself naked with a sad noise.
Fog lay over the fields,
Noisy caravan of geese
Reached south; was approaching
Quite a boring time;
It was already November outside the yard.
(Emotional pause. Music)
2) Conversation.
– What pictures were presented during the hearing?
3) Cover modeling.
4) Vocabulary work.
– Explain the words:
Caravan –
– What words do you still not understand?
Naked -
Shined -
5) Work on a poem. Textbook p.106.
- Read the poem.
– What period of autumn is the poet talking about? (Find the words in the text.)
- “The sky was already breathing in autumn...”
– How do you understand these words?
– In what meaning is the word “breathed” used? (Students' answers)
“Forests mysterious canopy
She stripped herself naked with a sad noise.”
Have you ever watched birds migrating in autumn?
How do they fly?
Why does Pushkin use the word “stretched”?
8. Work on expressiveness.
1) Setting logical stress, reading tempo, pausing.
2) What feelings does the poet convey? (Feelings of regret, sadness, despondency about the past summer.)
3) Expressive reading of the poem.
9. Reflection.
IN autumn bad weather seven weathers in the yard: sows, blows, twists, stirs, roars, and pours from above, and sweeps from below.
– What season of autumn is this proverb dedicated to?
Popularly, autumn is associated with the time of harvest.
Bread becomes the main character in the life of a peasant.
"For fish - water, for berries - grass, and Rye bread“The head of everything,” people said.
How much bread they collect - that’s how life will turn out. Mood, well-being, and health depended on the harvest. “Water is for fish, grass is for berries, and rye bread is the head of everything,” the people said.
But autumn is not only a “bread sum”, autumn is also a “charm of the eyes” (A.S. Pushkin). Autumn is a beauty: colorful leaves, mountains of ruddy apples, clear fragrant morning air.
As the seasons change, so does our mood. It’s sad in the fall to look at the flowers drying up in the flower beds, sad from the dull cold rain, gloomy dark mornings, bare trees, chilly puddles and gray skies.
And I would like to end our lesson with the words:
There is no bad weather
Every weather is a blessing,
Is it raining or snowing?
Any time of year
We must accept it gratefully.
10. Homework.
- Learn the poem by heart.
- Complete the task in your notebook.
