Autumn is a beautiful time of the year. The leaves on the trees turn yellow and the forest is dressed in bright yellow-red outfits. More and more rain is ringing and it starts to get colder, and at the very end of autumn real winter snow can fall.
Small poems about autumn in simple rhymes for children clearly convey the autumn mood of nature, tell children in rhyming prose about autumn phenomena in nature.
Leaf walker
Red rain falls from the sky,
The wind carries red leaves ...
leaf fall,
change of seasons,
Leaf walker on the river, leaf walker.
The sides of the river freeze,
And there is nowhere to go from frost.
The river was covered with a fox coat,
But trembling
And can't get warm.
Valery Shulzhik
Autumn
Autumn,
autumn...
Sun
Damp in the clouds -
Shines even at noon
Dull and timid.
From the cold grove
In field,
on the path
The hare blew -
the first
Snowflake.
Timofey Belozerov
September first
A huge bouquet is walking along the road.
In shoes - legs,
Above - takes.
Walking to school
Bouquets of flowers -
By the academic year
Bella Belova
Autumn leaves
To not burn them
Not collected in bags
They rush to the puddles
Hit the petioles!
Timofey Belozerov
Bug
We didn't notice the beetle
And the winter frames were closed,
And he's alive, he's still alive
Buzzing in the window
Spreading my wings...
And I call my mother for help:
-There's a live beetle!
Let's open the frame!
Agniya Barto
September
By the scarlet feathers of the bullfinch
The chill of September is flowing.
In a dry forest, the slumber of pines,
Peace emanates from the fields ...
Our autumn goes south
Holding onto a string of cranes.
T. Belozerov
Autumn
If there is no mood,
If the street is wet,
The rain smears the tears
On asphalt and on glass,
if the children are on a walk
Don't stick out your nose
It means - lost
Multi-colored umbrella Autumn.
E. Bulgakova
Leaves
Why do trees shed their leaves in autumn?
- Why trees for winter
Are they undressing around?
- And the trees also need
Undress before going to bed!
Vladimir Orlov
Aspen
In the autumn garden
By the path
Aspen slams
In the palms
That's why
That week
her palms
Blushed.
R. Sef
October
The leaves have fallen
The birds are gone
Everything that bloomed
Lurked in disgrace.
Burrows are busy
Controversy froze
Frosted fences in the morning ...
What is so sweet in this time
In the heart that squeezes us in October?!
M. Sadovsky
leaf fall
fallen leaves
The conversation is barely audible.
- We are from maples ...
- We are from apple trees ...
- We are with cherries ...
- From the aspen ...
- From bird cherry ...
- From oak ...
- From a birch ...
Falling leaves everywhere
On the threshold of frost!
Y. Kapotov
Autumn Gamma
Empty siskin's nest.
Before.
Autumn day in the yard.
Re.
The wind howls outside the door.
Before. Re. Mi.
Bright days empty column.
F.
The whole earth turned white.
La.
Ice in the puddles, like salt.
Salt.
Wear a warm hat.
Si.
Before. Re. Mi. F. Salt. La. Si. Before.
Rain. Rain. Rain. Rain.
Luchezar Stanchev
rain song
(translated from Bulgarian)
Quiet, quiet spring rain
He sang to us: "Drip, drip, knock, knock..."
This evening song
Lulled all around.
Cap, cap, knock, knock,
Drop, drop, tap, tap...
With this song from the grove
Peaceful sleep comes to us.
"Good night, good night!"
He quietly whispers to people.
Cap, cap, knock, knock,
Cap, cap, tap, tap..
N. Naydekova
Autumn
Falling, falling leaves
Leaf fall in our garden...
yellow, red leaves
They curl in the wind, they fly.
Birds fly south
Geese, rooks, cranes.
Here is the last flock
Wings flapping in the distance.
Let's take a basket in our hands,
Let's go to the forest for mushrooms
Stumps and paths smell
Delicious autumn mushroom
M. Evensen
autumn song
The summer has passed
Autumn has come.
In fields and groves
Empty and dull.
The birds have flown
The days got shorter
The sun is not visible
Dark, dark nights.
Alexey Pleshcheev
Autumn leaves
Empty birdhouse,
The birds have flown
Leaves on the trees
It also doesn't fit.
All day today
Everyone is flying, flying...
Apparently, also in Africa
They want to fly.
Irina Tokmakova
Yellow paint someone
Someone with yellow paint
Painted the forests
For some reason they became
Below the sky
Blazed brighter
Tassels of rowan.
All flowers withered
Only fresh wormwood.
I asked my dad:
- What happened all of a sudden?
And dad answered:
- It's autumn, friend.
Natalia Antonova
November
The tree became more noticeable in the forest,
It is tidy and empty.
And naked as a panicle
Clogged with mud by the countryside,
Blown with hoar frost,
Trembling, whistling vine bush.
Alexander Tvardovsky
colorful wind
Following the summer autumn is coming,
The wind sings yellow songs to her.
Leaves spread red under the feet,
A white snowflake flies into the blue.
V. Stepanov
Raindrops are flying
Flying, raindrops are flying
You won't leave the gate.
Along the wet path
Raw fog creeps.
By the fallen pines
And fiery rowans
Autumn comes and sows
Fragrant mushrooms!
I. Demyanov
Rain
rain,
The rain is drizzling
Autumn.
Dozhik sows through a sieve
The smoke is grey.
Rain - artist:
He's drawing
puddles,
And he plays the trumpets
No worse.
Here comes the gray snow
Lie thick. 
How good is
And sad.
Roman Sef
Before winter
Maples are flying faster and faster,
Darker and darker is the low vault of heaven,
Everything is clearer, how the crowns are empty,
You can hear more and more how the forest grows numb...
And increasingly hiding in the darkness
Sun,
cooled to the ground.
Igor Maznin
Analysis and text of the poem by A. Pleshcheev “Autumn has come, the flowers have dried up and look sadly ...” Alexey Nikolaevich Pleshcheev is a famous Russian poet of the 19th century. He is known for his uncomplicated, but elegant and stylistically polished poems for children. Pleshcheev also wrote more complex works, referring to civil lyrics, but it was the poems known to us from the readers for younger schoolchildren that brought him fame.
Petrashevets, a person close in outlook to socialist ideals, he nevertheless struck literary criticism its consonance with the literature of romanticism. The motives of longing, loneliness and withering are clearly visible even in his poems for the smallest. Such is the mood of the poem "Autumn".
The poem "Autumn" Alexei Nikolaevich Pleshcheev
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.
Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns 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..
Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
Analysis of Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn"
The theme of this poem is the onset of autumn, and the idea is the withering of nature at the end of summer. Lyrical hero watches how the flowers wither, the grass turns yellow in the meadows, how the clouds cover the sky and migratory birds leaving their native lands.
The main images aimed at conveying a dreary, joyless mood are the image of bare bushes from which the last leaves have fallen, the image of the sun that has gone behind the clouds and the image of flying birds.
However, despite the piercing feeling of autumn melancholy, this poem is not without dynamics. Traditionally, works related to landscape lyrics, for the most part, consist of adjectives. In this one, no doubt landscape sketch, the verb plays a significant role. For comparison, there are 12 verbs and only 4 adjectives in the poem. Why does the poem seem so descriptive, as if painted on canvas?
The attentive reader will note that two of the three verbs in this quatrain are intended not so much to denote action as to draw attention to color, appearance phenomena. Grass "turns yellow", winter, that is, winter crops, barely "turn green" in recently plowed again, clearly brown fields. So, without using a single epithet, the author conveys the entire color palette of late autumn. This technique is called color painting.
There are also epithets in Pleshcheev's poem, and one of them is constant - these are "far lands". A constant epithet is an epithet that is used together with the word being defined so often that it becomes traditional to write them together. Also epithets are the phrases “fast stream” and “bare bushes”.
Consideration should also be given to other artistic expressiveness. Personification plays an important role in this poem. In such small text the author uses it 3 times! “Autumn has come”, “a cloud covers the sky”, “the wind howls in the field”. This somewhat "humanizes" the gloomy autumn landscape, makes it alive and active.
The poem consists of four quatrains, cross-rhyming. It is written in three-foot trochaic, which is of great importance. Many children's poems are written in the three-foot chorea, thanks to which they are quickly remembered, because this size is very uncomplicated, and it also fits well with the music of the romance, thanks to its melodiousness.
It is this mixed, but pleasant impression that Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn" leaves behind. It combines longing for the passing summer (perhaps the "summer of life") of a romantic poet of a difficult fate and the light melodiousness of a children's poem or a naive song.
This article presents the text and analysis of the poem about "Autumn" by A. Pleshcheev "Autumn has come, the flowers have dried up and look sadly" pleasant reading!
Great about verses:
Poetry is like painting: one work will captivate you more if you look at it closely, and another if you move further away.
Little cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of unoiled wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which has broken.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is most tempted to replace its own idiosyncratic beauty with stolen glitter.
Humboldt W.
Poems succeed if they are created with spiritual clarity.
The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish Poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion near a fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not in verses alone: it is spilled everywhere, it is around us. Take a look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life breathe from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.
I. S. Turgenev
For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.
G. Lichtenberg
A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing inside us. Telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He is a wizard. Understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful verses flow, there is no place for vainglory.
Murasaki Shikibu
I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.
Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin
- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! the visitor asked pleadingly.
I promise and I swear! - solemnly said Ivan ...
Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from the rest only in that they write them with words.
John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"
Every poem is a veil stretched out on the points of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
The poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times, a whole Universe is certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for someone who inadvertently wakes dormant lines.
Max Fry. "The Talking Dead"
To one of my clumsy hippos-poems, I attached such a heavenly tail: ...
Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea and not a plague!
Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky
Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore drive away critics. They are but miserable drinkers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let the verses seem to him an absurd lowing, a chaotic jumble of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from tedious reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.
Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"
Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing but pure poetry that has rejected the word.
"Autumn" Alexey Pleshcheev
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns 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..Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
Analysis of Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn"
The beauty of autumn has been sung by Russian poets more than once in their works. For some, this time of the year was “charm to the eyes”, for others, like N. A. Nekrasov, it gave vivacity, for others, for example, for K. D. Balmont, it was a carnival of bright colors. For Alexei Nikolaevich Pleshcheev (1825 - 1893) it was a dreary time, which he informs the reader about in his 1863 poem.
What distinguishes the work of Alexei Nikolaevich "Autumn" from other autumns is his attitude towards it. For the poet, this is not just a complex set of weather phenomena, characterized by the withering of nature and the gradual onset of cold weather. Autumn Pleshcheeva is, rather, an old friend, a living being. The poet addresses her in a poem, as if to a person: “I recognize you, the time is dull ...”
Describing the autumn heroine, the author uses such epithets as “pale days”, “faded leaves”, “rainy dark nights”, “endless clouds”. A bleak landscape is drawn in the reader's imagination. Instead of the picturesque colors that other writers endowed autumn, Alexei Nikolaevich uses a gloomy color - his yellow is not sunny and bright, but painful and dull. With this color, the author paints drooping bushes in a damp field. If in other works there are magnificent images of colorful autumn leaf fall, then Pleshcheev’s leaves lifelessly “fall from the tree”.
The next stanza begins with the same phrase that opened the first. But it belongs to another phenomenon. Although it is described in the same shades as autumn, the poet speaks of old age:
I recognize you, the time is dull,
The time of heavy and bitter worries ...
Now it becomes clear to the reader why the poet dislikes autumn so much. This time of year is tantamount to old age. Parallels are felt in the lines: faded leaves - gray hair showing through, heavy clouds - endless worries, drooping bushes - "deadly doubt oppresses" the heart. The author compares the destruction of nature with the destruction of a man who has entered the time of decay. In autumn, there is nothing beautiful for him. This time is filled with a premonition of death, which is why the poet ends the poem with an epiphora, slightly changing the phrase from the first stanza: “Old age is tiresome! .. Yes, it’s you!”
Using viscous amphibrachs, anaphora and epiphora, which enhance the feeling of hopelessness, gloomy images, depressing epithets, the poet creates a pessimistic mood that is radically different from the romantic attitude of other authors to autumn.
Website "Mom can do anything!" collected the most beautiful poems about autumn for children. They will create a special autumn mood, as well as introduce you to the peculiarities of nature at this time of the year. These verses will not only expand their horizons, but also show the child all the beauty of golden autumn.
These verses are suitable for memorization, for reading in kindergarten or school. They can be told at the autumn festival or simply read after a walk in the park.
Autumn
If in the trees
the leaves turned yellow
If the edge is far
the birds have flown
If the sky is gloomy
if it's raining,
It's the time of year
called autumn.
(M. Khodyakova)
Autumn
I walk, I'm sad alone:
Autumn is around.
Yellow leaf in the river
summer is gone.
I throw him a circle
your last wreath.
Only summer can not be saved
if the day is autumn.
(G.M. Novitskaya)
In the aspen forest
In the aspen forest
Aspens tremble.
Breaks the wind
From aspens scarves.
He is on the path
Helmets will drop -
In the aspen forest
Autumn will come.
(V. Stepanov)
Raindrops are flying
Flying, raindrops are flying
You won't leave the gate.
Along the wet path
Raw fog creeps. By the saddened pines
And fiery rowans
Autumn comes and sows
Fragrant mushrooms!
(Ivan Demyanov) 
leaf fall
leaf fall,
Falling leaves!
Yellow birds fly...
Maybe it's not a bird
Are you going on a long journey?
Maybe this
Just summer
Flying away to rest?
will rest,
Strength will be gained
And back to us
Will return.
(I. Bursov)
autumn treasure
Yellow coins fall from a branch ...
There's a treasure under your feet!
This autumn is golden
Gives leaves without counting
Gives golden leaves
To you and to us
And everyone in a row.
(I. Pivovarova)
autumn tears
Wept at night
Yellow maples.
Remember maples,
How green they were.
from yellow birch
It also dripped.
So birch too
Cried...
(E. Mashkovskaya)
Sad time! Oh charm!
Sad time! Oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.
(A. S. Pushkin)
***
Plums are scattered in the garden,
A noble treat for wasps…
Yellow leaf bathed in the pond
And welcomes early autumn.
He pretended to be a ship
The wind of wandering shook him.
So we'll follow him
To berths unknown in life. And we already know by heart:
In a year there will be a new summer.
Why the universal sadness
In every line in the poetry of poets?
Is it because the traces on the dew
Will the showers wash away and the winters get cold?
Is it because the moments are all
Fleeting and unique?
(Lyudmila Kuznetsova)
***
In the morning we go to the yard -
Leaves fall like rain
Rustle underfoot
And fly... fly... fly...
Gossamer webs fly
With spiders in the middle
And high from the ground
The cranes flew by.
Everything flies! It must be
Our summer is flying by.
(E. Trutneva)
Autumn
Wait, autumn, don't rush
Unwind your rains
Spread your fogs
on the rough river surface.
Slow down, autumn, show
I turn yellow leaves,
Let me make sure, don't rush
How fresh is your silence
And how bottomless the sky is blue
Over the hot flame of aspens ...
(L. Tatyanicheva)
September
Summer is ending
Summer ends!
And the sun don't shine
And hiding somewhere.
And the rain is a first grader,
A little shy
In oblique line
Lining the window.
(I. Tokmakova)
leaf fall
Leaves flutter in the air
All Moscow is in yellow leaves.
We are sitting at the window
And we look outside.
Leaves whisper: - Let's fly away! —
and dive into the puddle.
(Yu. Korinets)
Autumn
Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
In the heart it 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 flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And he will cry awake. (Konstantin Balmont)
***
Boring picture!
Clouds without end
The rain is pouring down
Puddles on the porch…
stunted rowan
Wet under the window
Looks village
Gray spot.
What are you visiting early
Autumn, come to us?
Still asks the heart
Light and warmth!
(Alexey Pleshcheev)
October
Here is a maple leaf on a branch.
It looks like new now!
All ruddy, golden.
Where are you, leaf? Wait!
(V.D. Berestov)
autumn song
The summer has passed
Autumn has come.
In fields and groves
Empty and dull. The birds flew away,
The days got shorter
The sun is not visible
Dark, dark nights.
(Alexey Pleshcheev)
mischievous people
circled over me
Rain of mischievous leaves.
How good is he!
Where else can you find one like this?
Without end and without beginning?
I began to dance under him,
We danced like friends
Rain of leaves and me.
(L. Razvodova)
Autumn
On a bush-bush -
yellow leaves,
A cloud hangs in the blue, -
So it's time for autumn!
In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag.
Our autumn park has become stricter.
All covered in bronze!
Autumn seems to me too
Getting ready for October...
In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag!
(Ivan Demyanov)
Indian summer
Indian summer has come -
Days of farewell warmth.
Warmed by the late sun
The fly came to life in the crack.
Sun! What in the world is more beautiful
After a chilly day?
Gossamer light yarn
Wrapped around a knot. Tomorrow it will rain fast,
A cloud covering the sun.
Silver gossamer
There are two or three days left.
Have pity, autumn! Give us light!
Protect from winter darkness!
Have pity on us, Indian summer:
These cobwebs are us.
(D.B. Kedrin)
October
It's been raining since morning
It pours as if from a bucket,
And like big flowers
Umbrellas unfurl.
November
Hands get cold in November
Cold, wind in the yard,
Late autumn brings
First snow and first ice.
(A. Berlova)
Autumn
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.
Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns 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.
Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
(Alexey Pleshcheev)
Autumn
Gives autumn miracles
And what!
The forests are dressed up
In golden hats.
On a stump they sit in a crowd
red mushrooms,
And the spider is a dodger! -
Pulls the network somewhere.
Rain and withered grass
Sleepy more often at night
Incomprehensible words
They mumble until the morning.
(M. Geller)
***
A fox passed under a bush
And burned the leaves
tail.
Fire climbed the branches
And blazed
Autumn forest.
(N. Krasilnikov)
autumn 
In the crane sky
The wind carries clouds.
The willow whispers to the willow:
"Autumn. Autumn again!”
Leaves yellow downpour,
The sun is below the pines.
Willow whispers:
"Autumn. Autumn soon!"
Frost on the shrub
White cry sketched.
The oak whispers to the mountain ash:
"Autumn. Autumn soon!"
Fir trees whisper
In the middle of the forest:
“Soon will notice
And it will start flying soon!”
(A. Efimtsev)
harvest festival
Autumn decorates the squares
Multicolored foliage.
Autumn feeds the harvest
Birds, animals and you and me. And in the gardens, and in the garden,
Both in the forest and by the water.
Prepared by nature
All kinds of fruits. Cleaning is in progress in the fields -
People collect bread.
The mouse drags the grain into the mink,
To have lunch in winter. Squirrels dry roots,
bees store honey.
Grandma cooks jam
Puts apples in the cellar. Harvest is born -
Collect the gifts of nature!
In the cold, in the cold, in bad weather
The harvest will come in handy!
(Tatyana Bokova)
Autumn
Autumn is coming
In our park
Gives autumn
Gifts for all:
Red beads -
Rowan,
Pink apron -
aspen,
Umbrella yellow -
poplars,
Fruits autumn
Gives us.
(I. Vinokurov)
Autumn
Slow down, autumn, don't rush
Unwind your rains
Spread your fogs
on the rough river surface.
Slow down, autumn, show
I turn yellow leaves,
Let me make sure, don't rush
How fresh is your silence
And how bottomless the sky is blue
Over the hot flame of aspens ...
(L. Tatyanicheva)
***
leaf fall, leaf fall,
The yellow leaves are flying.
Yellow maple, yellow beech,
Yellow circle in the sky.
Yellow yard, yellow house.
The whole earth is yellow all around.
yellowness, yellowness,
So autumn is not spring.
(V. Nirovich)
Leaf walker
Red rain falls from the sky,
The wind carries red leaves ...
leaf fall,
change of seasons,
Leaf walker on the river, leaf walker.
The sides of the river freeze,
And there is nowhere to go from frost.
The river was covered with a fox coat,
But trembling
And can't get warm.
(V. Shulzhik)
Autumn
Empty birdhouse -
The birds have flown
Leaves on the trees
It also doesn't fit.
All day today
Everything is flying, flying...
Apparently, also in Africa
They want to fly.
(I.P. Tokmakova) 
***
October has come
the grove is shaking off
Last sheets
from their bare branches;
The autumn chill blew
the road is freezing. The murmur is still running
behind the mill stream,
But the pond was already frozen;
my neighbor is in a hurry
In the departing fields with his hunt,
And suffer winter
from crazy fun
And the barking of dogs wakes
dormant oak trees.
(A.S. Pushkin)
***
The fields are compressed, the groves are bare,
Fog and damp from the water.
Wheel behind the blue mountains
The sun went down quietly.
The blasted road is slumbering.
She dreamed today
What is very, very little
It remains to wait for the gray winter ... (Sergey Yesenin)
Golden autumn
Autumn. Fairy tale,
All open for review.
clearings of forest roads,
Looking into the lakes
Like in an art exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm, ash, aspen
Unprecedented in gilding.
Linden hoop gold -
Like a crown on a newlywed.
Birch face - under the veil
Wedding and transparent.
buried earth
Under foliage in ditches, pits.
In the yellow maples of the wing,
As if in gilded frames.
Where are the trees in September
At dawn they stand in pairs,
And sunset on their bark
Leaves an amber trail.
Where you can not step into the ravine,
So that everyone does not know:
So raging that not a step
A tree leaf underfoot.
Where it sounds at the end of the alleys
Echoes at the steep slope
And dawn cherry glue
Freezes in the form of a clot.
Autumn. ancient corner
Old books, clothes, weapons,
Where is the treasure catalog
Flips through the cold.
(Boris Pasternak)
Before the rain
A mournful wind drives
I flock to the edge of heaven.
Broken spruce groans,
The dark forest whispers dully.
On the stream, pockmarked and motley,
A leaf flies after a leaf,
And a stream, dry and sharp;
The cold is coming.
Twilight falls on everything,
Flying from all sides,
Whirling in the air with a cry
A flock of jackdaws and crows...
(Nikolai Nekrasov)
Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
She stripped naked with a sad noise.
Fog fell on the fields
Noisy geese caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.
(A.S. Pushkin)
The swallows are gone...
The swallows are gone
And yesterday dawn
All the rooks flew
Yes, like a network, flickered
Over that mountain.
In the evening everyone sleeps
It's dark outside.
The leaf falls dry
At night the wind is angry
Yes, knock on the window.
It would be better if snow and blizzard
Happy to meet you!
As if in fear
Shouting out to the south
The cranes are flying.
You will leave - willy-nilly
It's hard - even cry!
Look across the field
Tumbleweed
Jumps like a ball.
(A.A. Fet)
leaf fall
Forest, like a painted tower,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
It stands over a bright meadow.
Birches with yellow carving
Shine in blue azure,
Like towers, Christmas trees darken,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there
through foliage
Clearances in the sky, that windows.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
During the summer it dried up from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He enters his motley tower ...
(Ivan Bunin)
Glorious autumn
Glorious autumn
Healthy, vigorous
Air tired forces invigorates;
Ice is fragile
on the cold river
as if
melting sugar lies;
Near the forest
like a soft bed
You can sleep -
peace and space!
Leaves fade
haven't made it yet
Yellow and fresh lie,
like a carpet. Glorious autumn!
frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature!
And bumps
And moss swamps, and stumps -
All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Rus' ...
I'm flying fast
on cast iron rails,
I think my mind...
(N.A. Nekrasov)
