White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.
And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.
Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...
God's days are short
The sun shines a little -
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.
Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.
For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.
To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.
He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid
Evil frost, angry.
Analysis of the poem "Winter" by Surikov
In the work of Ivan Zakharovich Surikov "Winter" the arrival of the snowy season in the world is lyrically and sincerely described. The lines of this poem contain both a description of the angry frost, and, in contrast, the soft comfort of this season.
But only at first glance, this work describes only winter, in fact, it contains reflections on the meaning of life - after all, it is completely subordinate to nature, and a description of peasant everyday life, and a feeling of complete calm and harmony with the outside world.
The verse was written in 1880 in the genre of landscape lyrics. The poem has eight stanzas, each containing four lines. It is written in iambic trimeter (two-syllable meter), it has cross-rhyme, female rhyme (stress on the penultimate syllable).
There are many means in the work. artistic expressiveness: epithets (“evil”, “fluffy”, “angry”), personifications (“frosts came”, “the forest fell asleep”), comparisons - “the field turned white, then a veil, everything covered it”.
The line “frosts have come - and winter has come” contains the idea that our whole life is subject to the laws of nature, therefore, people should accept any changes in it with gratitude and great pleasure from every, even insignificant, moment. After all, then every moment of our life will be filled with charm and joy.
“For a long time the peasant has been waiting for winter and cold, And he covered the hut with straw from the outside.” When the poet writes about the life of a peasant, he notes that even on such a calm day he still has a lot of worries - you need to pull out and harness the sleigh to go for firewood, prepare the hut for the cold, covering it with straw from the outside, and have time to keep track of the children who keep building snowy mountains.
For most of his life, the author himself, Ivan Surikov, lived in the countryside, and each arrival of winter was fascinated by how the dark forest in just one night was completely covered with a snow cap and, as if in fact, fell asleep for the whole winter, as in the morning the whole field it was white from the night snowfall, when suddenly the day became shorter, and the sun was less and less. That is why he so easily conveyed to the reader a sense of village life.
About such difficult things to understand such in simple words could write only a truly talented person, which was Ivan Zakharovich. He is rightfully considered one of the brightest, but at the same time original poets of Russian villages. It was he who was able to add a share of romance to the description of rural everyday life, so much so that most readers had a desire to take a walk in the winter sleeping forest, wander through a snow-covered field, listening to the crunch underfoot, build a snow mountain, enjoying the clean refreshing air.
Poems about winter for children
In this selection of winter poems for children middle group kindergarten you will find works by the classics of Russian literature, A. S. Pushkin, N. A. Nekrasov, F. I. Tyutchev, I. A. Bunin, I. Z. Surikov and other Russian poets.
Poems about a cold winter morning, poems about a beautiful winter, poems about a winter road, poems about the beauty of winter nature, poems about winter fun, poems about the first snow. All poems are selected for preschoolers of four and five years old, and those marked with an asterisk are recommended for memorization.
Winter*
I. Surikov
White snow fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.
And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.
Dark forest - what a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...
God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.
Enchantress Winter ... *
F. Tyutchev
Enchantress Winter
Bewitched, the forest stands,
And under the snowy fringe,
Motionless, dumb
He shines with a wonderful life.
And he stands, bewitched,
Not dead and not alive -
Magically enchanted by sleep
All entangled, all bound
Light chain down…
Is the winter sun mosque
On him his ray oblique -
Nothing trembles in it
He will flare up and shine
Dazzling beauty.
First snow
Ya Akim
morning cat
Brought on paws
First snow!
First snow!
He has
Taste and smell
First snow!
First snow!
He's spinning
Easy,
New,
The guys over their heads
He managed
Down scarf
spread out
On the pavement
He turns white
Along the fence
I crouched on the lantern, -
So, soon
Very soon
The sleigh will fly
From the hills
So it will be possible
Again
build a fortress
In the courtyard!
By ski*
A. Vvedensky
The whole earth is covered in snow
I'm skiing
You run after me.
Well in the forest in winter:
The sky is bright blue
Spruces, pines in hoarfrost,
Snow sparkles underfoot.
Hey guys, who's behind us?
Winter morning*
A. Pushkin
... Evening, do you remember, the blizzard was angry,
In the cloudy sky, a haze hovered;
The moon is like a pale spot
Turned yellow through the gloomy clouds,
And you sat sad -
And now ... look out the window:
Under blue skies
splendid carpets,
Shining in the sun, the snow lies;
The transparent forest alone turns black,
And the spruce turns green through the frost,
And the river under the ice glitters ...
chrysanthemums
I. Bunin
On the window, silver from hoarfrost,
Like chrysanthemums have blossomed.
In the upper glasses - the sky is bright blue
And stuck in the snow dust.
The sun rises, cheerful from the cold,
The window shines golden.
The morning is quiet, joyful and young,
Everything is covered in white snow.
And all morning bright and clean
I will see the colors in the sky
And until noon they will be silver
Chrysanthemums on my window.
A blizzard sweeps...
S. Yesenin
Snowstorm sweeps
White path.
Wants in soft snows
Drown.
The wind fell asleep
On a way:
Don't drive through the forest
Neither pass.
Here is the north, catching up the clouds *
A. Pushkin
Here is the north, catching up the clouds,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The magical winter is coming.
Came, crumbled; shreds
Hung on the branches of oaks;
She lay down with wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
A shore with a motionless river
Leveled with a plump veil,
Frost flashed. And we are glad
Leprosy mother winter.
Blanket
A. Corinthian
- For what, dear,
Does it snow in winter?
- Out of it nature
The blanket is weaving!
- A blanket, mom?
Why is it?!
- Without him in the ground would
It became cold!..
- And to whom, dear,
Looking for warmth in it?!
- For those who have to
winter winter:
little seeds,
grains of bread,
To the roots of blades of grass
Grasses and flowers!..
winter song
3. Alexandrova
white lawn,
Warm sweatshirt.
I'll run skiing -
You catch me!
Bullfinches on the birches
Brighter than the dawn
blue tits,
Snow for gloves!
white track,
Wait a bit.
Someone walks behind a bush
Bunny or cat?
If the cat walks - so be it!
If the hare - do not be afraid!
If a wolf with a bear -
Let's not go further!
Winter night in the village
I. Nikitin
fun shines
Moon over the village;
White snow sparkles
Blue light.
moon beams
God's temple is doused;
Cross under the clouds
Like a candle burning.
Empty, lonely
Sleepy village;
Blizzards deep
Huts skidded.
Silence is mute
In the empty streets
And no barking is heard
Guard dogs.
Childhood (excerpt)
I. Surikov
Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;
Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - clap!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.
And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.
All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh! ..
Winter road*
A. Pushkin
Through the wavy mists
The moon is creeping
To sad glades
She pours a sad light.
On the winter road, boring
Troika greyhound runs
Single bell
Tiring noise.
Something is heard native
In the coachman's long songs:
That revelry is remote,
That heartache...
Winter*
Ya Kupala
So recently to us in the window
The sun shone every day.
And now the time has come -
A blizzard took a walk in the field.
Ran away with a ringing song,
She covered everything like a diaper,
Fluffed with snow fluff -
It became empty everywhere, deaf.
The river does not ring with a wave
Under the clothes of ice;
The forest is quiet, looks sad,
Birds are not heard troublesome.
Neater than fashionable parquet ... *
A. Pushkin
Neater than fashionable parquet,
The river shines, dressed in ice;
Boys joyful people
Skates cut the ice loudly;
On red paws a goose is heavy,
Having thought to swim in the bosom of the waters,
He steps carefully on the ice.
Slides and falls; funny
Flickering, winding the first snow,
Stars falling on the shore.
Snowflakes
A. Usachev
The hedgehog looks at the snowflakes.
“This,” he thinks, “hedgehogs ...
White, prickly
And besides, they are volatile.
Spider on a cobweb
He also looks at snowflakes:
"Look how brave
These flies are white!”
The hare looks at the snowflakes:
"It's rabbit fluff...
It can be seen that the hare is all in fluff -
He scratches his fur coat at the top.
The boy looks at the snowflakes:
"Maybe it's a joke?.."
He won't understand why
Very fun for him.
Snowflakes
S. Kozlov
Behind the window - a blizzard,
Behind the window - darkness,
Looking at each other
They sleep in the snow at home.
And the snowflakes are spinning
They don't care at all! -
In light dresses with lace,
Bare shoulder.
Teddy bear
Sleeping in your corner
And half an ear listens
Blizzard outside the window.
old, gray-haired,
With an ice stick
The blizzard hobbles
Babo Yaga.
And the snowflakes are spinning
They don't care at all! -
In light dresses with lace,
Bare shoulder.
thin legs -
soft boots,
White slipper -
Ringing heel.
Bullfinches
A. Prokofiev
Run out quickly
Look at the snowmen.
Arrived, arrived
The flock was met by blizzards!
A Frost-Red Nose
He brought them rowanberries.
Well sweetened
Late winter evening
Bright scarlet bunches.
Snowball*
N. Nekrasov
Snow flutters, spins,
It's white outside.
And the puddles turned
In cold glass
Where the finches sang in summer
Today - look! -
Like pink apples
On the branches of snowmen.
The snow is cut by skis,
Like chalk, creaky and dry.
And the red cat catches
Funny white flies.
Cautious snow
V. Stepanov
midnight snow,
He's not in a hurry.
He walks slowly
But knows the snow
What's the same
He will fall somewhere.
And the slower it is
Chagall
The more careful
The softer into the dark
Fell
And U.S-
Didn't wake up.
snow woman
A. Brodsky
We are the snowman
Blinded to glory.
For glory, for glory
For your own amusement.
On us she is black
Looks with eyes
As if laughing
Two coals.
Although worth it
Our woman with a broom
But don't let it show
She is evil to you.
Bucket instead of a hat
We gave her...
With a snowman
The game is more fun.
Snowman
T. Petukhova
Our favorite snowman
Head completely drooped:
The hare carried away into the forest at night
He has a carrot nose!
Don't worry, snowman
We will help in a moment in trouble,
We'll give you a new nose
The nose is good, the nose is spruce!
Winter
V. Stepanov
White path, white.
Winter has come. Winter has come.
I wear a white hat
I breathe white air
My eyelashes are white
Coat and mittens, -
Do not distinguish me in the cold
Among the whitening birches.
Freeze. And a squirrel in silence
Suddenly he jumps into my arms.
Winter on the edge
I. Gurina
At a small, at the Christmas tree
Green needles.
Fragrant, fluffy,
Silver from the snow!
For a cowardly bunny
A cone has fallen from the tree!
He runs along the path
The tail and back flicker.
A fox roams beside
And proud of his tail.
On a high snowy slope
Elk horned, as in the crown!
On green branches
hoarfrost bleached
Like scarlet beads
Bullfinches are small.
The edge is flooded with sun,
Squirrel, red girlfriend,
Came to visit the Christmas tree
Yes, I brought nuts.
All year round. January
S. Marshak
Opening the calendar
January begins.
In January, in January
Lots of snow in the yard.
Snow - on the roof, on the porch.
The sun is in the blue sky.
Stoves are heated in our house,
Into the sky the smoke is coming pillar.
I know what to think
A. Barto
I know what to think
No more winter
So that instead of high snowdrifts
Green hills all around.
I look into the glass
Green color,
And immediately winter
Turns into summer.
Winter
E. Rusakov
Until March, the ponds are chained,
But how warm are the houses!
Wraps gardens in snowdrifts
Careful winter.
Snow falls from birches
In drowsy silence.
Summer frost paintings
Draws on the window.
Ivan Zakharovich Surikov (March 25, 1841) - April 24, 1880) - Russian self-taught poet, representative of the "peasant" direction in Russian literature. Author of the textbook poem "Childhood". Another of his poems, "In the steppe", in folk processing became the most popular song "Steppe and steppe all around." P. I. Tchaikovsky wrote the romance “Whether I was in the field or there was grass” on his poems.
Winter
White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.
And in the morning with snow
The field turned white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.
Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...
God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.
Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.
For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.
To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.
He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid
Evil frost, angry.
In Russian literature of the 19th and 20th centuries, there is such a direction as peasant poetry, bright representatives of which are Sergei Yesenin and Nikolai Nekrasov. Ivan Surikov, whose name is undeservedly forgotten today, can be attributed to the number of authors who sang of rural life in their works. The creative heritage of this poet, who was born into the family of a serf, is small, but many of his works are still well known to readers, as they are distinguished by their simplicity of style, special melody and amazing brightness of images.
Among them, it is worth noting the poem “Winter”, written in 1880, shortly before the death of Surikov, who died in poverty, but until the very last moment he did not lose the ability to admire the world around him and found it perfect even despite the fact that fate did not show this author special favor. Nevertheless, the poet never complained about life and was convinced that he had a lucky lot - to be a poet.
The poem "Winter" belongs to the category of landscape lyrics, and its first lines are dedicated to snowfall, which covers the earth with a white and fluffy blanket, transforming the world, making it cleaner and brighter. These lines exude calmness and peace, as well as the anticipation of the holiday, which will surely come already, if only because winter comes into its legal rights. The poet describes her arrival very simply and succinctly - "here the frosts came - and winter has come." However, this simple phrase contains the philosophical wisdom of being, the meaning of which boils down to the fact that we all obey the laws of nature. Therefore, any changes in the surrounding world should be accepted with joy and enjoy every moment of life, which is filled with amazing charm for those who know how to appreciate simple human joys.
Describing the life of the peasants, the poet notes that on a sunny and frosty winter day, they still have enough worries. It is necessary to harness the sleigh and go for firewood, without which it is impossible to survive the cold. At the same time, the villager is preparing for the winter very thoroughly and in advance, he has long covered the outside of the hut with straw to protect his home from the cold. But the children in the snowy winter have one expanse, and in almost every village "children build snow mountains."
Simple rural life is described in this work with restraint and unpretentiousness. The main thing for the peasants is to take care of their home, stock up on firewood and food, hay for livestock and warm clothes. This time of the year is quite calm for the villagers, and they have time to pay attention to their meager household, to prepare for the upcoming sowing season, on which the well-being of the whole family depends. However, winter, even for a rural resident, is not without romance. And Ivan Surikov, who spent most of his life in the countryside, never ceases to be amazed at the beauty of the "dark forest", which in one night acquired a luxurious and lush hat of snow, white fields and short days, which are replaced by long winter evenings filled with a special charm. It is so simple and artless to write about complex things only for a truly gifted person who knows how to appreciate the beautiful and selflessly loves native nature, appreciates peasant life and has a very subtle poetic nature. Therefore, it is not surprising that Ivan Surikov is considered one of the most striking and original poets of the Russian village, who was able to breathe romance into the usual way of rural life and present it in such a way that every reader wants to slide down a high snowy mountain on the outskirts of the village or wander through the sleeping forest , listening to the creak of snowdrifts and inhaling the frosty tart air.
The landscape in Bunin's early work is not just the artist's sketches, penetratingly feeling the beauty of his native fields and forests, striving to recreate the panorama of the places where his hero lives and works. The landscape not only sets off and emphasizes the feelings of the hero. nature in early stories Bunina explains a person, forms his aesthetic feelings. That is why the writer seeks to capture all its shades.
For Blok, everything is not easy even in these first months of the revolution. There are things that confuse him: he cannot ignore them and remain indifferent. In Ukraine, Russian soldiers fraternize with the Germans, but to the north, on the Riga front, the Germans are advancing rapidly. There is not enough bread, they shoot at night, a cannon rumbles in the distance.
The theme of love was heard at the top of its voice in the last, fifth book of Arseniev's Life. On the fifth book ("Lika") Bunin worked intermittently from 1933 to 1939. At first, Bunin separated "Lika" from the first four books. This, in particular, is evidenced by the first complete release of the novel in 1939 by the Petropolis publishing house. On the cover of the book was written: “Bunin. "The Life of Arseniev". The novel "Lika".
We offer you beautiful winter poems Ivan Surikov. Each of us from childhood knows well poems by Ivan Surikov about winter while others read them to their children and grandchildren. These works are included in school curriculum for different classes.
Short Ivan Surikov help not only to develop speech and memory, but also to get acquainted with the beautiful season of winter.
Verse by Zim Surikov
White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.
And in the morning with snow
The field turned white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.
Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...
God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.
Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.
For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.
To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.
He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid
Evil frost, angry.
Poem Childhood I. Surikov
Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;
Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - clap!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.
And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.
All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh!
But meanwhile the village
The sun has long
The storm has risen
The sky is dark.
You will overwhelm all
Don't bend your hands
And home quietly
You wander reluctantly.
shabby fur coat
Throw off your shoulders;
Get on the stove
To the grey-haired grandmother.
And you sit, not a word ...
Quiet all around;
Just hear - howls
Blizzard outside the window.
In the corner, bent over
Grandfather weaves bast shoes;
Mother at the spinning wheel
Silently flax spins.
The hut illuminates
The light of the light;
Winter evening lasts,
Lasts endlessly...
And I'll start with my grandmother
Tales I ask;
And my grandmother will start
Tales to say:
Like Ivan Tsarevich
I caught a fire bird;
as his bride
The gray wolf got it.
I listen to a fairy tale
The heart is dying;
And in the pipe angrily
The evil wind sings.
I'll stick with the old lady.
Silent speech murmurs
And my eyes are tight
Sweet dream fades.
And in my dreams I dream
Weird edges.
And Ivan Tsarevich -
It's like me.
Here in front of me
A wonderful garden blooms;
In that garden there is a big
The tree is growing.
golden cage
Hanging on a branch;
There is a bird in this cage
The heat is on fire.
Jumping in that cage
Sings merrily;
Bright, wonderful light
The garden is all over.
So I crept up on her
And for the cage - grab!
And wanted out of the garden
Run with a bird.
But it was not there!
There was a noise, a ringing;
The guards ran
In the garden from all sides.
My hands were twisted
And lead me...
And trembling with fear
I wake up.
Already in the hut, in the window,
The sun looks;
Before the icon of a grandmother
Pray, it's worth it.
You flowed merrily
Baby years!
You were not darkened
Grief and trouble.
