List of blessing works for children. Poetry E.A.

Made and sent by Anatoly Kaydalov.
_____________________

Foreword by E. Tarakhovskaya

FIGHTER'S Oath
Fighter's Oath
Two mothers
Ballad of the Gray Horse
Song about two Budennovites
Ballad of Peace
Ballad of a tie
It is good to
Get up!
Letter
Do not be mad at me
Chizhik
overcoat
Eternal glory
Harmonic

I DON'T LIKE TO SIT AT HOME
I don't like to stay at home
About wipers
Grinder
cheerful person
blue downpour
Strongman
window leaf
How well you are dressed
Guess where we were?

ECHO
Autumn
Fly away, fly away
Rowan
Golden autumn
Winter
On my window
Freezing
Snow Maiden
Spring
Willow
Icicles stopped ringing
Wind
Miracle
warm rain
sweet garden
Bunnies
Dandelion
Echo
summer rain
By
White mushrooms
Raspberry
rainy rain
Track
Magic
bird whistle
song

WHAT MOM!
I will teach you to put on shoes and brother
Enjoy, toys!
Why are they grey?
Good morning!
Lunch!
Kitty
On rainy days
Peace - peace!
spark
From the roof - cap
Walk
Mother's day
boats
Birthday
Gift
What a mom!
Primer
Let's sit in silence
Pro flag
Our grandfather
Mystery
bird cherry
tired
Burn-burn clear!
Alyonushka

BUBBLE
fun walk
Rainbow
yellow ray
curdled milk
Bubble
Three pictures
Near the garden
Rhymes
Poems about a Christmas tree, a gray wolf, a dragonfly and a poor goat
Forest fables (five poems)
white-sided magpie

Elena Aleksandrovna Blaginina was born in a village near Mtsensk. She studied at the Kursk women's Mariinsky gymnasium. In tsarist times, there were three departments in each class: the noble daughters studied in the first, the daughters of merchants in the second, the so-called "thirds" - the daughters of petty employees, officials and workers - in the third. In the first two departments, girls were taught foreign languages and music, "thirds" were not supposed to learn all this according to their rank. E. A. Blaginina was a "third" because her father served as a cashier at the railway station.
But the Great October Socialist Revolution came, the Mariinsky Gymnasium with all its three departments was closed, and the former “third student” entered the unified Soviet labor school.
Already at school, she fell in love with poetry, memorized them, wrote poetry herself. After graduating from school, she entered the Kursk Pedagogical Institute. The times were difficult. In slush, in frost and blizzard in a fur coat lined with wind, in home-made shoes with rope soles, she walked daily to the institute seven kilometers from home.
While still studying at the institute, she became a member of the Kursk Union of Poets. Together with other young poets, she listened to lectures on literature and linguistics and performed at literary evenings reading her first poems. Her poems were already published in the almanac of Kursk poets.
Once E. A. Blaginina read an announcement in Izvestia. This little announcement changed her whole life. It reported that a literary and art institute named after the famous poet Valery Bryusov had opened in Moscow. E. A. Blaginina decided to enter this institute. Fearing that her parents would not let her go, she ran away from home.
She was accepted into the institute. But it was necessary not only to study, but also to earn a living. E. A. Blaginina was admitted
for service in the baggage compartment of Izvestia. I had to prepare for lectures at night ... But how interesting it was at the institute! The best professors taught there. Vladimir Mayakovsky and Sergei Yesenin came there and read their poems.
After graduating from the Bryusov Institute, E. A. Blaginina continued to serve in the luggage department of Izvestia for a long time. It was not so easy to get on the literary road. Only in the 30s, E. A. Blaginina became the editor of the Murzilka magazine, and then the Zateynik magazine. In the same years, she finally decided to write poetry for children.
For a children's writer who writes humorous poems, "counters", "teasers", "patters", success with the guys is guaranteed in advance. However, E. A. Blaginina did not limit herself only to such verses. She went to the heart of the child not this beaten path, but chose a more complex and difficult path: she writes lyrical poems.
Her poems about nature (“Echo”, “Snow Maiden”, “Koleya”, “Raspberry”, “Bird's whistle”, etc.) will teach the young reader to listen and understand the rustle of rain, the rustle of trees, bird's whistle, the voice of a stream. Full of kindness and cordiality, the poems “Our Grandfather”, “The Riddle”, etc. will involuntarily make the children become kinder and more attentive to old people. Energetic, cheerful poems ("Jolly Man", "About Janitors", "Grinder", etc.) will arouse interest in work. And after reading the verses collected in the section "Oath of a Fighter", the guys will fall in love with their Motherland even more strongly.
E. A. Blaginina wrote many books for children. Her books “That's what a mother!”, “Let's sit in silence!”, “Panka”, “Alyonushka”, “Forty-white-sided”, “Rainbow” and others are well known to the children. Working on translations, E. A. Blaginina introduced readers to the poems of Shevchenko, Zabila, Konopnitskaya, Kvitko, Lesya Ukrainka. For my literary work E. A. Blaginina in 1939, among other best children's writers, was awarded the Order of the Badge of Honor.
The magnificent Russian language, its deep nationality, song, real poetry, variety and liveliness of rhythms - these are the qualities that make E. A. Blaginina's poems interesting not only for children, but also for adults.
Elizabeth Tarakhovskaya

FIGHTER'S Oath

I swear by bread and water,
I swear by the sky and the star
I swear by my old mother
And my young life
That I will become purer than fire,
Clearer than a cold day -
Treason crafty shadow
Never touch me!
I swear by blood and misfortune,
I swear by love and enmity,
I swear by my old mother
And my young life
That I will become purer than snow,
Silent night shores
And the secret given to me
None of the enemies will vomit!
I swear we are building and the regiment,
I swear by battle and bayonet,
I swear by the red banner
And to death with a smashing blade,
What will I become stronger fear,
Calm road stones
And if my life is needed
I will part without pity with her!
Let the deeds be damned
Betrayal, cowardice, evil!..
I swear by your name, Chief,
That my heart is a rock!

TWO MOTHERS

Two mothers took care of their son.
And he is alone!
The first in the barn secretly wept:
- Farewell, my son! -
She made cakes for him
And baked.
I didn’t cry with him, I didn’t vote,
Was firm.
She kissed him on the lips.
- Go, my son!
Enemies do not wait, there are many enemies around,
Go my son! -
And he went, leaving summer at home
And hayloft.
And a warm flag over the roof of the village council
Saluted.
The second mother bowed her life to her feet,
The wind howled:
- The road, son, is open before you,
Go, it's time!
I will splash the hot sun on you,
I'll shed a star.
Protect me - your homeland,
Your country! -
She raced him along the narrow rails:
- Hurry, my son!
Enemies do not wait, there are many enemies around
Hurry, my son! -
And, approaching the threshold of modest glory,
He hummed.
And a hot flag over the roof of the outpost
Saluted.

BALLAD OF THE GRAY HORSE

Didn't eat or drink
Didn't sleep for many days
Haven't had enough to drink
Tortured horses.
Bitter became from the smoke
July over the Vistula...
On the papakha Klima -
Two bullet holes.
But he sits down again
On full fire
Steppe, black,
A frisky horse.
And the dust rises, swirls,
Flies from all sides -
That rushes along the road
Behind Klim is a squadron.
Like fire poppies
Banners bloomed:
White Poles again
They lay down behind the river.
So let's pour cholera
By the first number!
And crashed into a quarry
To the burning village
Whistling, the beams blazed
And they fell apart.
frightened jackdaws
Rushed in the clouds.
Was ready to split
Air from fire...
Suddenly near the well
Klim stopped the horse.
And, exactly as ordered,
The discordant rumble subsided:
Hold back immediately
Fighters of their horses.
Everything stopped
The squadron trembled -
The horse fought in the well,
Trying to get out.
She scraped her hoof
bit the bit,
On the broken side
Blood flowed from the wound.
She squinted her pupil
And, the heart of ice
As if asking:
"Save me!"
But the walls were tight
A mossy log house slid,
Shreds of white foam
They flew from dark lips.
And black to tynu
Klim firmly tied.
Let's save an animal! -
He said cheerfully.
Elusive rustle
The ranks of the fighters shook:
Someone shouted: - Dear
Now to us every hour!
- And every minute! -
Added menacingly Klim,
Turning around cool
To your comrades.
- Let's not be tricky.
Yes, listen to me
Bring on the ropes
For this horse!
Twelve hands were enough
Tight ropes knitting,
Twelve feet trampled
Well dirt.
And six hearts trembled:
“Well, how will it suddenly break?!”
And the horse didn't whine.
And it didn't get out of hand.
And gray steppe
Rescued, saved the fighters
Trembling, crazy
Grabbed by the bridle.
She walked unsteadily
Breathed hot
And suddenly bowed her face
On Klimovo shoulder.
And he stroked her
He patted the sides.
- Drown! For what?
You will be useful to us!
The rumor remained among the people,
It's like being at war
One day a rider rode
On a gray horse.
He ran from the chase
By the road of the forest,
Enemy horses
They snored behind their backs.
Fell with a hot body
Rider to the horse's back:
- I won't give myself to the whites alive!
Carry, carry me!
Stump, pothole, snag,
Snowdrifts, like coffins...
Suddenly on the edge of a ravine
The gray one reared up.
He deftly dodged
He measured his step
He waited, he rushed
And ... once - through the ravine!
And now it jumps further
And now the goal is close -
Red looming
posts from afar.
Run away from the chase
Horse and man...
And the enemy horses
Were up to our necks in the snow.
Yes, they disappeared there -
Didn't get out, couldn't...
Snow buried them
The winds swept them away.
SONG ABOUT TWO BUDON110VTSEV
The enemy horses got tired,
Do not hear their breath.
Ran away from the chase
Two dashing Budennovites.
There was one almost beardless,
Thin-ribbed, young.
And the other - with a huge blond
Curly beard.
Suddenly the bearded man said:
- Here comes my suffering!
Do not see the native house
Me, comrade, never.
The young man answered him:
- I'm tired of listening to your speech!
Fought and did not notice
What is a coward in battle with me.
Are you not the bayonet and the flag,
Commander and country
To be fearless in war?
But answered the young
Friend-comrade fighting:
- Can't see home
Do not return home to me!
My chest is aching -
The enemy shoots well:
The bullet is sharp, crazy
Caught me in the dark.
But not a century. The enemy is furious:
The war will end soon
Bloom, bloom
Bolshevik Spring.
You return to Ukraine,
Bow to the high rye.
To my own son
Tell me firmly
So that he bayonet and flag,
Commander and country
I took an oath - to keep courage,
Be fearless in war!
Don't forget this word
Tell my dear son ... -
And from a horse and from a black
Started to slide slowly.
Feet stuck in stirrups
Hands are like lead...
... And under the willow by the road
A fighter buried a fighter.
The wind is crying over the grave
Spins a muddy blizzard.
On the road the rider gallops
Hides hatred for the enemy.

BALLAD ABOUT THE WORLD

Noisy fields:
"We don't want war!
We were scorched by the war.
Tight grains fell, flowed
In the womb of the torn earth.
The people suffered great misfortune -
He ate roots, bark and quinoa.
An orphan's cry stood all over the earth
Over the fields lying in the ashes.
We are born to grow the grain
So that from the collective farms it showers
In all corners, in all parts of the country ...
Water chimes:
"We don't want war!
We have been desecrated by the war:
The enemies of the dead were dragged along,
Rocked enemy ships
Heaved up from explosions of bombs and mines
Bloody tornado from native depths,
Everything around you
Flushing, flooding and ruining.
We are born to water gardens
To fill canals and ponds,
To carry the ships of the native land...
Mighty! We don't want war!"
The forests hummed:
"We don't want war!
We were ruined by the war.
Scars and wounds are still fresh
Though the dugouts are overgrown with grass,
Fragments of mines are hidden by soft moss
And the screech of shells died out in memory.
We were born to keep the flow of waters,
Trunks cherish, console the people
A spill of leaves, light, silence ..
Mighty! We don't want war!"
The people said:
"I don't want war!
My sons are weary of war,
My mothers are blinded by tears,
And the wives are young - without a family ...
Powerful! I want work
Peace, peace, happiness forever,
To my forests, fields and rivers
The hand of the enemy never touched!
But if it's still a bloody blizzard
Inflate the enemy, do not resist the enemy -
I'll take him out of the world, I'll take him out,
I will take the trouble-snake from my heart!”

BALLAD OF A TIE

What are you holding in your hands?
- I'm holding a tie in my hands,
Pioneer tie!
- Elder friend, my comrade,
He is scarlet like a flame.
- Yes, like fire and like blood,
Like the dawn over the world.
- Elder friend, my comrade,
What does flame mean?
- Flame formidable struggle
For human happiness!
- Elder friend, my comrade,
You said about blood!
- The sacred blood of fighters,
Fallen for freedom.
- Elder friend, my comrade,
And what is the dawn?
- It's a happy sunrise
Suns of Communism.
- Elder friend, my comrade,
Who will wear a tie?
- You put it on, pioneer,
You will wear a tie!
- Elder friend, my comrade,
Am I worthy?
- If you keep sacred
Pioneer's oath
You will be worthy, friend
My younger friend!
I'm going to sleep, but I don't want to sleep...
I'll sit in bed
Or I will suddenly toss and turn,
Or I'm just lying down.
Outside the window is dark from dampness,
The clouds hid the moon.
It would be nice ... to grow up tomorrow
Yes, go to war.
Meet the tankers
And tell them this: "Friends,
You are at war with the fascists,
I want to fight too!
I know you are all very brave,
Very durable in combat.
If necessary, the whole day
I'll be on guard.
I like to stand on guard, -
Let the enemies climb, let!
Tanks are easy for me to handle.
I know the tank by heart.
And the tankers would answer:
"You, boy, are fighting,
We have noticed you for a long time.
See the tank? He will be yours!"
I would sit in a cramped cabin
And for my homeland
For a spacious, wonderful
Would excel in battle!
Our father has been on a campaign for a long time -
The third year, as in the war,
Our mother is at the factory,
And to whom with a brother? To me!
Don't stretch and don't yawn!
I'll get along great with you -
I will buy you milk
And I'll iron your clothes
And I'll feed you lunch.
You get up, get up, get up
Open your eyes wider!
The morning is blue
The garden is full of yellow leaves.
We will walk with you
For three whole hours.
Well, get up, get up, get up
Here are the pants - put on!
And it will often rain,
I'll drag you home
Blue-eyed and swirling,
My dear brother!
Well, get up, get up, get up
Let me hug you!
The birch has curled up
In front of our window.
A letter carrier came running
She brought the letter.
I sat and sang songs
By the window, on the chest.
I see my mother turned white,
The letter trembles in my hand.
I jumped up and ran
The letter was selected
I pressed him to my chest
I tore the envelope.
And I can't read!
Mom is crying - she won't read ...
We sit and cry with her
Simply by the way.
We would never figure it out
Yes, neighbor Luka has come
And I read a letter from my brother
Red Navy sailor.
He is healthy, he beats the Fritz,
He's not without reason in the war.
He will come back, he will buy a doll
And give me a doll!
Mom once
Cleaned up the whole house
Evening bag
I took a big one
And says:
- I'm going to the store.
Are not you afraid
Stay alone? -
I answer:
- No, nothing...
You left
Me alone!
Do not worry,
I have grown now. -
Mom is gone
And slammed the door.
How pleased I am
How happy, how glad!
Here at last
I'll make a parade!
Chairs for the kitchen
Instantly bastard,
The table moved
To the window, in the corner.
hung everywhere
banners, flags,
And on the parquet
Arranged the shelves.
And ahead
These glorious regiments
Tankov instructed,
Armored cars,
heavy guns,
big tractors,
And drummers
And a trumpeter.
Himself on hot
jumped the horse:
- brave army
Listen to me!
Red Army,
Glory to you
You win
In a tough fight!
You are not in the world
Stronger and braver!
You overcame
Fascist beasts! -
wind across the area
The dust swirled
wind banners
Ran, grabbed.
The sun has fallen
On hot copper
Copper blazed
And it started to rumble.
Banners fly,
blades flash,
Moved strictly
And orderly shelves.
I'm on a horse
I jump in front of them
in front of the shelves
I jump and shout:
- Red Infantry
The power is formidable!
Hail, infantry
For all times! -
Trumpets sang:
"Tu-ru-ra-ra-ra",
Shout out loud
Infantrymen: - Hooray! -
I'm on my horse
I jump further
I jump further
I scream louder
- For combat
big things
Glory to the sappers
Praise to the messengers!
Artillerymen
Glory and honor -
their deeds
I Gelzya count!
Glory to the tankers -
brave eagles,
Cavalrymen -
Eagles-falcons! -
Here are the drums:
"Ta-ra-ta-ra-ra", -
To the very sky
Rushing: - Hooray! -
I'm on my horse
I jump further
I jump further
I scream louder
- You are like the wind
Like clouds!
Glory to the pilots
Salute to the sailors!
Glory to that
Who's in fire and smoke
Led us to victory!
Glory to him! -
Music together:
"Lu-ru-ru-ru-ra."
Glass in houses
Trembling: "Hurrah-ah-ah!"
Tanks roar
The guns are firing
The guns are firing
Hearts are happy.
And planes
Making a circle...
- Glory to the Soviet fatherland! -
And suddenly...
The door is wide open
Mom at the door
- Holy Fathers!
What is this fear!
What have you done,
What did he do?
Overturned everything
Messed up everywhere! -
I'm from combat
I get off digging:
- Mom, you
Do not be mad at me!
I did not notice,
That he played for a long time.
I played
And then I would take it.
Don't be angry
Be patient, I say.
I cooked
Parade for October!
chizhik
We had a chizhik
There lived a fawn with us,
We lived a chizhik
Two long winters.
Very good,
Cheerful chizhik -
deeply loved
Chizhika we are!
Mom used to
Will return from work
After the big
have a hard day,
Chizhik will see her -
And it will flood.
Mom laughs:
- Meets me! -
If the letter
Father's late
They will immediately appear
Sad days.
grandmother with mom
Of course not a word
Only I see -
They are afraid.
I'm bored too...
No pictures, no books
And nothing
Then I don't want to.
- My dear chizhik
My good chick.
Soon from the folder
Will I receive a letter? -
Chizhik head
twirls slyly,
Cleaning the feathers
On a warm chest:
Like, don't twist
What a right you are!
There will be a letter for you
Wait a minute!
And feel better
Like a little.
- Grandma, you, - I say, -
Do not be bored! -
Look - a letter carrier
Knocking on the window
Waving an envelope:
- Dance, get it!
Somehow we got lifted
Neighbor screams -
He drummed
Through the window from the courtyard:
- Get up! Victory!
Wake up! Victory!
We defeated the Nazis!
Hooray! -
The morning welcomed us
sunshine,
songs, music,
A downpour of flags.
I do not forget
About this holiday
No I won't forget
Till the end of time!
I took it for joy
Yes, and put
A cage with a siskin
On a bench in the garden.
The door wide open
left,
Hiding behind a bush
And I'm waiting.
Chizhik fluttered
And chirped at the door.
Fluttered again -
And nowhere, silent.
I'm getting cold
Heart pounding:
- What are you? fly,
Come on, fool!
Ile to freedom for you
Reluctance?
Or about it
You didn't sing songs?
Chizhik replied
funny something,
Wings spread
And ... flew.
He flew
Over thick bushes
He chirped:
"Remember me!"
wings were
Completely golden
in the sunshine
May day.
Why are you keeping your overcoat?
I asked my dad,
Why don't you tear it, burn it?
I asked my dad. -
After all, she is dirty and old,
Take a better look
There's a hole in the back
Take a better look!
- That's why I keep it, -
Dad answers me
Therefore, I will not tear, I will not burn, -
Dad answers me
Because she is dear to me
What's in this overcoat
We went, my friend, to the enemy
And he was defeated!
I don't understand what it means
What does not give her peace?
But on Victory Day, mother cries
He doesn't sing happy songs.
And I asked, bolder:
Why are you crying on this day?
She looked into my eyes
And sadly leaned her hand:
- I cry clean tears
About those who are no longer with us,
About those who will not be with us,
But who gave us back life and light.
Whose path was formidable and not far off,
Whose blood is burning on the banners,
Whom mentioning Stalin
He speaks of eternal glory.

HARMONIC
(A LITTLE STORY IN POETRY)

I dedicate to the young partisan Misha Kurbanov - a pupil of Nekrasovsky orphanage in Orel

No gifts, no clothes -
I didn't ask for anything.
But on the accordion,
I confess, I voted.
And once they gave
I have it for May Day.
Having given, they said:
"Well, don't break it!"
So I took the harmonica in my hands,
Carefully touched the frets -
Sounds poured on fingers
Streams without water.
The choir is discordant, discordant -
I don't know what I'm playing...
“The moon shines, the clear one shines ...” - -
I randomly picked it up.
I hear, the second one is getting along,
The voice sighed...
I am such a conversation
Never heard of in my life!
I left the crowded hut,
Haven't eaten or drunk all day
And until sunset
Sat over the river.
Treble sang high
They were lulled by basses,
And the words boiled in me
Unknown beauty.
And came home stealthily
Yes, and furtively lay down to sleep ...
Since then, with his three-row
I couldn't be separated.
And glory followed me,
Didn't go, but rushed.
Not a single fun in the village
It didn't work without me.
Did the girl get married
Or there were feasts on the collective farm,
They ran to me anyway.
“Come on, Mish, have fun!
You are at least a minor with us,
And he scored all the big ones ... "
I rarely refused
Even though he didn't like pirates.
I loved isolation
copses, meadows,
Wind pitiful song,
The splashing of the waves on the shore
The sky is spring without edge,
Skylark in the sky.
What I played, and I don’t know myself
And it was spacious...
But the fun is over
There is no more silence.
Through my tall grasses
Through my thick oak forests
The thunder of war rolled.
Four brothers at war
And father, and all relatives.
Our house is empty.
Mother, cheerful once,
It's getting more boring day by day.
And the enemies crawled like a cloud,
The groan of death was all around.
Mother said:
- Neminucha
Our death is under the enemy.
We can't be with the Nazis
Not for that I lived for a century ... -
... And we went to the partisans
From native village.
Not a heavy canvas bag, -
We took a towel
On a calico shirt,
Partisans tobacco.
We took some bread
Sala shmat, a bottle of water...
On my shoulder is an accordion,
Vociferous modes.

The forest is dense - this is our hut,
The commander is our father.
I shoot from a machine gun
Learned how to be a fighter.
Sometimes I went to explore
And he served on patrol.
Only it was rare -
They said: "Not grown up!"
I often peeled potatoes
Ile tidied up in the dugout,
To think - I thought about the accordion,
And did not play.
It was too boring:
Jump up in the morning, a little light, -
And the horses need to be cleaned
And help cook dinner.
(Mother became a cook, -
came alive again.)
Life wasn't quiet at all.
No, where is it - combat!
That fascists amuse the heart
And they shoot all day long
Then they will “comb” our forest,
Why, what good is it for them?
The forest is large, dense, dense,
Uncomfortable in it to the enemy.
He will climb a black cloud,
And lie down in a heap in the snow.
You used to play anyway
You will take your soul with a friend.
Long time to choose
And you will look - and you will find.
Partisans are always in business!
But it happened that they
They will say:
- The guns are tired!
Come on, boy, play! -
They will become a wall around me;
I'll start, they will burst:
“Oh, forests, you are forests,
Bryansk forests!
Troops live in you
Partisan.
Mash, women, kvass,
Wait, women, for us!
From an uninvited guest
We will deliver you soon!"
Partisans love to sing
More than mash on the table ...
... the birth of the Red Army
We do in February.
Everything as it is came to dinner,
My songs were listened to.
I sang songs about victory
About great fights.
Sang about the sky with clouds
And about the rain in the spring.
propped up face hands,
Mother pulled me up.
It became quiet in the dugout,
In our fighting house.
The partisans began to cry.
Wipe off your sleeve.
The partisans subdued
Pinch beards, mustaches...
Treble sang high
They were cradled and warmed
Velvety basses.

Rose not in vain for revenge
partisan hand.
How many staffs with smoke together
Flew into the clouds!
How many enemy echelons
It went downhill!
How many of these von barons
Fritz has sunk into the ground!
How many raids were made -
Not one warehouse exploded!
How many machine guns were taken
Machine guns, mines, grenades!
And how many pickets were filmed
And the cattle are gone!
And the cars are broken, crumpled,
And the paths are scattered!
Exactly a year we lived that way
In one parking lot. All the same
We were surrounded in the spring.
So it became unbearable.
Fritz brewed porridge,
It took a long time, apparently
And had to park our
Us for the new to leave.
The road is hard in the forest
And in the war - even more difficult.
Take a lot with you
Well, it's impossible for her.
Machine gun, shoulder bag,
I'll take two grenades,
And an accordion, a friend of the heart,
It will stay here in the forest.

For a long time we will not live in huts!
I put on the bag again
Under the birch tree
I sat down last.
Then he took the harmonica in his hands,
Carefully touched the frets:
We waited for parting
Waiting for trouble with you!
Stayed a little longer
And he said to himself:
"Well!
... On my shoulder - an accordion,
And the heart has a sharp knife.
I bowed to the dugout:
Like, thanks for the shelter;
Came out ... Quietly in the clearing,
But it was noisy in here.
I fixed my machine
The disk touched the spare,
And left it to lie
Under a tall pine.
And he went, did not look back -
The spring forest trembled with tears.
Suddenly I thought... and came back...
He took an accordion and carried it.
Put her on a pedestal
At the groove on the edge
Mined the harmonica
I vote mine.
Himself lay down in the thick bushes
And I'm barely alive.
Golden shadows roam
Above my head.
How fragrant it is here!
How wide is spring!
Chu! There are two fascists on the stitch,
Two scout gunners.
Gritting your teeth, raising your eyebrows,
Bypassing stumps with caution
(Machine at the ready)
They move silently.
That's very, very close,
Their shadow lay on the accordion.
Here's one crouched low
Here he grabbed the belt.
Fuck! And dust and blood, and in sound
Terrible, wild, everything merged:
Two scoundrels, two vipers,
Two fascists exploded!
I quickly run away from there -
Where crouching, where crawling.
“Yes, it’s just a miracle.
No, by God, it's a miracle! -
I got up and blow straight.
Oh, how my heart skipped a beat
How I jumped, how I jumped!
- You played!
You played
Finally
you
played
Wonderful
played
My voice!

I DON'T LIKE TO SIT

I don't like to stay at home
I like walking.
I love to walk, I love to look
Take friends with you.
I love looking at the clouds
At sunrise.
On how the echoing river
Breaks ice.
How a carpenter makes
Table, chair or stool
And the house painter paints the rooms
Any fun color.
How the janitor cleans the yard -
Heaps up the snow,
And how the floor polisher dances -
Cheerful person.
As in a storm, in heat or frost,
Under the wind a sharp whistle
Driving a heavy steam locomotive
Fearless driver.
I don't like to stay at home
No, I don't like to sit.
I like to look at the world
Look at the sunshine!

ABOUT WINNERS

There have been a lot of snow
And they all go, go...
The wipers are tired
Throwing, sweeping, sweeping.
They rattle with shovels
Under shaggy clouds,
Panicles rustle.
On the streets, on the streets
In yards and nooks and crannies
Hurry to manage.
It's finally done
And went home -
We barely got there.
Barely ate -
Not for food! In bed
Rather go to sleep.
Slept and woke up... and
Went out at dawn.
They look, en again the streets
In heavy silver.
Here the janitors groaned,
They rumbled with shovels,
Scraped with scrapers.
And friends walked by
fellow inventors,
They were walking from work.
One said: - They try!
Another thought: “Toil!
They seem to be unbearable…”
... He threw off his fur coat at home,
Wider spread the table,
Pulled out paper
And drew a drawing.
There have been a lot of snow
And they all go, go...
The wipers are tired
Throwing, sweeping, sweeping.
They have a hard time
And everyone, uh, angry!
Suddenly they hear - the whole district
Rattles, rings, buzzes.
They look - the car rolls,
Behind her are trucks.
Shouting from the car: - Enough!
Throw scrapers!
Here comes the driver
Laughs: - Hey people!
Don't you want to see
How does a car eat snow?
From there and from here
Aprons fly -
Take a look at this miracle
Janitors want.
The driver started the engine -
A fun conversation ensued.
The car began to eat
Snowdrift from the tail.
The people are happy: - Thank you!
And in appearance, look, it's simple:
Well, a tractor, tenacious, well, shields, -
And the snow shaft in the trucks.
And the oldest janitor Klim
With your trembling voice
He said: - She, dove,
Just like a meat grinder!
God bless him -
To that bright mind,
Who took care of us...
... And the square became an hour later
Clean, spacious and bright
Which hasn't been for a long time.
I saw this car
And told about it, friends.

GRINDER

The grinder screams in the morning
For all floors:
- Who to sharpen,
who to sharpen
Scissors, knives!
And I'm flying up the stairs
Hurry, hurry, hurry!
I want to sharpen my knife
Let it be sharper.
The wheel is spinning, buzzing,
The belt rustles, whistles,
And a fan of sparks from under the knife
Like fireworks, it flies.
Zhik-zhik, Zhik-zhik,
Zhik-zhik, Zhik-zhik
Keep your sharp knife-zhik-zhik! ..
Once a house came to our house
cheerful person,
And turned everything upside down
Cheerful person.
He moved chairs and tables,
He climbed into all corners,
He spilled paint on the floor
And he sang songs.
Then sat down on a stool
cheerful person,
And took out a pipe and a pouch
Cheerful person.
And I sat down next to him
And I looked at the blue smoke
And I envied him
And no one else!
Cloth and brush brought
Cheerful person.
He waxed his brush,
Cheerful person.
And well, dance, and well, whistle -
And the parquet began to shine like that,
That the windows along with the blue day
Suddenly reflected in it.
Then the parquet was rubbed with a cloth
Cheerful person.
Oh amazingly smart
There was this person!
He moved the furniture as he pleased,
He turned chairs in the air
But even aunt on him
Not angry, nothing!
Do you remember how she came in
cheerful person,
And I gave you money
Cheerful person?
And me for this mess,
Which one did you raise in the house,
Such would come out to catch up,
What only ah-ah-ah!

BLUE SHOWER

Make way, honest people, -
Slowly and steadily
Floats in a hot area
Blue tank.
It has a young driver
Watering can opens
Softly splashing water
The area washes.
Like a mustache
At this tank.
How much beauty falls
On the asphalt warm!
The pearls rolled
Rubies are falling.
A rainbow has risen
Around the cab.
She stood and left
Gradually melting
Right away she went up
Rainbow is different.
And, screaming at each other,
Turning up my pants
Straight into the blue rain
The kids are flying.

Though not very close
And yet I can see
How does the signalman wave?
Flags on the wall.
And drags a huge load
high crane,
Stretches the neck
To the eighth floor...
And I can't breathe
I keep looking at him.
I opened the window for a minute
And I stand spellbound...
Straight to the captain's cabin
The wind blows into my room.
Having flown, the curtains fluttered
And puffed up like sails.
I see the oceans
Bright, alien skies.
I know, I know - it's not summer outside,
The cold is growing stronger under the moon.
Why are parquet squares
Trembling, swayed under me?
And the water, roaring, raged...
And not in a dream, but in reality
I'm on watch at the helm,
To the shores of the unknown I swim.
Here is the siren carefully and low
She lifted her voice.
Where will we be tomorrow? In San Francisco?
Or in some other port?
Or let's swim without a break
In this azure depth? ..
...I woke up. Legs are like ice
Hands too. Head on fire.
I slammed the window shut. And it became
Everything is in place. I climbed into bed
Buried more tightly in a blanket
And slowly began to float away.
The sound resounded important and lingering -
This midnight beats behind the wall.
Our whole house is a multi-storey ship -
An ocean of silence floats...

How smartly you are dressed -
Dress,
Apron,
Slippers,
pink ribbons,
And in the hands of another candy!
Who did this to you
What are good friends?

your shoes
Bought in store...
But still, where are they?
Cut and sew?
At the shoe factory
At the zoo!
Getting there
Need a bus
Or maybe a tram
And you can walk -
Down the street covered
Fluffy snow.
Factory Directly
Difficult to get used to
It's very troublesome
And crowded!
obedient to movement
skillful hand,
The machines sigh
The cutters are rattling.
floats
By conveyor
Motley
Leather.
For now
She
No matter what
Do not like:
sliced
Many
Separate
Pieces -
Some
horseshoe,
stripes,
Remeshkov.
Workers
These stripes
horseshoes
take
And they are sewing
Of them
Blanks:
chirp
cars,
buzzing
drive,
reeling
Leather
Hither and thither!
And here she is
With fur
fringe
Ile very
Artfully
decorated
line.
pierced
pistons,
Threaded
Laces,
Still not ready
Your shoes!
They float
Farther
In the conveyor
boat.
You look -
blank
Already
On the deck!
Worker
block
in the palm of your hand
Beret,
Lever arm,
Like a bird
block
Pecks:
Iron
Bird,
Just like alive
troublesome,
Trying hard
Nails
Driving in.
Nailed down
Closed up
Skin
The edges,
But still not ready
Your renewal!
She floats
Farther
In the conveyor
Boat:
Need
shoes
heels
And soles!
Dairy
Lamps
are shining
Up,
Ostensibly
Sun
shines
In the shop!
Other
Cars,
Other
And the sounds
But the same
skillful,
Kind
Hands:
Soles fitted
And heels
And removed
From pads
Your
Shoes.
Now they will be checked
And they stamp
Protrut
And a speck of dust
Every
They'll blow it away.
are beautiful,
smart,
Comfortable
are easy,
Ready, ready
Your shoes!
Laid motley
Shoes in cartons
And fun rolls
On the five.
Where is she going?
You know where
In the villages, in the auls,
To all cities.
By tape
Asphalt
rolls
And rolls...
We have a lot of guys
But enough shoes!
worn
on the legs,
run
Slippers -
Top-top - along the path,
Knock knock - heels!

A dress with an apron
Were a sprout
were an escape
And a delicate flower.
Were a box
With fluffy cotton
Thread
And fabric, slightly yellowish.
This coarse fabric
In dots of dark
For a long time
in boilers
Boiled
Huge.
For a long time
In cool
water
rinsed,
Again
in steep
Boiling water
Lowered.
in lye
edcom
Cooked,
White,
After again
washed out
And washed.
To villi
On her
Not left
Straight
Above the flame
This fabric
Rushed.
Greedy
Flame
rushed
And it whistled
burn
canvas
By all means
Wanted!
But
Flew
It
Unscathed -
Even
No smoke
past
And past!
So that
Uzelkov
Not left
in sight,
Textile
Chased away
In a special
car.
To
in brilliant
satin
turn into
Her
Between the shafts
I had to
Spin!
And so it rushed
She
By workshops -
flew down,
rushed
Top
And finally
From cloth
Nondescript
Has become
white,
Almost
transparent,
As if
Huge
Cotton
Flower
Behind the petal
unfolded
Petal...
Hands
workers
Everywhere
Keep up:
In time
Lids
Kotlov
Opened.
Soft
And for sure
included
motors,
Cars
rolled,
interfered with
Solutions
And touched
A thousand times
To white
river,
Dressing
Us.
But why
Answer this
You are in bright scarlet
Is the dress on?
The apron is white
And the dress is red!
How so
Did it work out?
Dress
Your
visited
In the dye-
In very
Tricky
car
And strong!
deaf
And menacingly
The machine
I died
tight
cloth
To the shaft
snuggled
And... said goodbye
It
with whiteness,
Up
Rising
colorful
Wall.
fabrics
flow
beauty
Unprecedented:
Raspberry chintz,
Yellow
And scarlet.
white striped,
Blue in buds
And purple
in the leaves
Green.
Please the heart
funny colors,
As if with you
We have been in a fairy tale!
Before the book
Let's close this
Say thanks
Humble Heroes:
The fact that the wheat
They sow high
By what to invent
They know the car
The fact that the canvases
The good ones weave
Make shoes
And they bake bread.

1
A cloud came running
The thunder rolled
Warm rain poured down
Ringing silver.
Rang over us
And disappeared away...
Do not sit at home -
We went for a walk!
Don't forget to take nets.
Guess where we were?

2
We were across the river
On that shore
On a big fragrant
flood meadow.
Butterflies were caught
And weaving wreaths
On the collective farm hay
Lie down to rest.
We, too, were stirring! ..
That's where we were today!

3
Bunnies are shining
On the sandy bottom
Flocks of small fish
They go deep.
willow dropped
Branches in the fast
It seems to be light
Touches the wave.
The clouds floated high...
Guess where we were?

4
We were on the river
warm water!
Every day when we get up
So we run there.
The dragonfly was caught
Wings are good!
They climbed for a water lily
Through the reeds.
Legs tied in silt...
That's where we were today!
warm stripes
Glowing in the moss
The sun is shining
Far above.
Fly agaric in red
They sit in hats.
And don't take these!
These are not eaten!
We wandered until lunch...
Guess where we were?

6
We were in the shade
Secular forest
Sultry at noon,
In the hottest.
Yesterday's rain
Good for mushrooms
That gruzdok, then white
You put it in a container.
Our milk mushrooms are salted!
That's where we were today!

7
fat, funny
The legs of calves.
All these calves
They're just having fun.
silk fur,
Round eyes.
How amusing
Thunderstorm calf!
And they watered the calves with us! ..
Guess where we were?
We were on a collective farm
"A red star".
View calves
They ran there.
And they have a calf -
Real home!
How convenient
And comfortable in it!
We love calves...
That's where we were today!

9
A lot of squeaky
yellow guns,
Wings and feathers
Beaks, crests.
That would be to touch them,
Here to hold
That would be warm to the heart,
Squeeze the little ones!
Chickens are not allowed...
Guess where we were?

10
We are at the poultry farm
Were this time.
Poultry Arisha
She invited us.
Important hens
For my sons
For sons and daughters
Digging worms.
- Peck, peck! - they said.
That's where we were today!

11
golden sun
In bright blue
golden shadows
They move in the grass.
The branches are bending
Oh, and heavy!
And wherever you look
White trunks.
They were whitewashed with lime ...
Guess where we were?

12
We were today
In a young garden
Harvest is good
This year.
Apples are like sugar
Pears are pure honey.
On purple plums
Blue raid.
We were treated to glory ...
That's where we were today!
And you?

AUTUMN

If you get up at dawn -
Roofs in gray silver...
The shadow lies long
For a long time the leaf is spinning.
If you go out in the morning -
Jackdaws freeze in the wind...
Curl over couples
Follow the tractors.
The day unfolds
At noon you sit on a stump,
You look - on the bake
Magpies are jumping.

And it's quite warm at lunchtime -
Smells like bitter wormwood
Pulls with honey, mint
And crushed grass.
Just don't believe this.
Autumn is still here!
The sun is paler
The sky is colder.
If you go out in the evening -
Jackdaws freeze in the wind,
The shadow lies long
For a long time the leaf is spinning.
Soon white blizzards
Snow will rise from the ground.
Fly away, fly away
the cranes flew away.
Do not hear the cuckoo in the grove,
And the birdhouse was empty.
The stork flaps its wings -
Fly away, fly away!
Leaf sways patterned
In a blue puddle on the water.
A rook walks with a black rook
In the garden, in the ridge.
Showered, turned yellow
The sun's rays are rare.
Fly away, fly away
the rooks flew away.
On the path - a shadow,
Solar grid.
Through the tyn, through the fence
A branch hung.
I'll run, I'll jump
I'll stand on my toes
I will grab a branch by braids,
I'll get the berries.
I'll sit by the wattle fence
And on silk
Carefully string
I year rowan.
Put on bitter beads,
Branch, branch!
On the path - a shadow,
Solar grid.
Our autumn is really golden,
How else can I call it?
Leaves, little by little flying around,
They cover the grass with gold.
The sun hides behind a cloud
That will spread yellow rays.
And sits fried, odorous
With a golden crust bread in the oven.
Apples, high cheekbones, cool,
Every now and then they fall down.
And golden grains flow
From the collective farms they spilled into the sea.
Winter unexpectedly, unexpectedly
Came to the black fields.
It was foggy yesterday
Rain-clothed earth.
The trees creaked plaintively,
Cold streams flowed...
And suddenly the blizzards came
And how much snow they brought!
And the shadows slowly fall
To the garden, to the roofs, to the bench,
Snowflakes curl and spin
And rush to my room.
They fly light and breaking
And brighter than the stars
As if in blue darkness
The trembling bridge is thrown over.
On my window
Real garden!
large earrings
Fuchsias are hanging.
The narrow date climbs -
Leaves are fresh.
And at the Russian palm tree
Leaves are like knives.
flared up with embers
A humble bastard.
All under hair
Cactus stump.
Know that it's cramped in a pot
bear's ear
It grew wonderfully
Lush, wide.
The tits are jumping
Under my window.
The birds rejoice
It's nice for them
look at it
nice window,
Where winter is summer
Where flowers are full.
Frosts are cruel
This year!
Worried about apple trees
In our garden.
Anxious for the Bug:
In her kennel
The same frost
Like in the yard.
But most of all
Worry about the birds
For our sparrows
Daws, tits.
We have prepared
Everything for winter.
We wrap up with matting
We are apple trees.
More senets
We'll bring it to the kennel,
Poor mongrel
We will save you from the cold.
But birds! So cold
In the air to them!
Will we help
So defenseless?
Let's help! They need to be fed
And then
They will be easy
Survive the cold.
I made a snowman
Put in sight
Snow Maiden
Under the apple tree in the garden.
My princess is standing
Under the round tree
princess queen,
Pretty face. "
In a brocade shower jacket
It is brighter than the dawn
And big on the neck
Playing amber.
She will leave my garden
Only the sun will bake:
Spread, melt,
It flows with streams.
But I'll click - it will respond
My Snow Maiden
That echo from the well
That is the voice of the stream,
That swan swimming
In the cloudy pond
That apple tree blooming
In my own garden.
The stoves are still burning in the houses
And the sun rises late
We also have on our river
They walk calmly through the ice.
Back to the wood shed
Won't go straight
And in the garden under the trees
A snowman naps with a broom.
We are all warmly dressed
In sweatshirts, in cotton pants ...
And yet signs of spring
In everything, everything is already visible!
And how the roofs got warmer
And like the sun in sight
Drops, falling, sang,
They stammered like crazy.
And suddenly the road got wet
And the boots are full of water...
And the wind is gentle and lingering
Winded from the south side.
And the sparrows cry to each other
About the sun, about its beauty.
And all the funny freckles
Sit on one nose...
Radiance, splashing and chirping in the yard...
And the willow is all in fluffy silver:
They're about to break, and fly away
Lumps of these gray ducklings.
Touch, stroke - how tender
Trusting first-born of spring!
The icicles stopped ringing
At the roofs they froze fringe,
shone with cold light,
Frozen like winter.
But tomorrow the sun will rise again
It will bake
And drumming on the porch
Kapel is cheerful again.
Spring is shading with a titmouse,
The sparrows will pick up the chant.
They will walk along the stitch with a string
My school friends.
And I'll knock on their window
Getting into a coat on the go,
Please, wait a little.
Or don't you see - I'm going G
And, throwing books behind his back,
Sliding on the melting snow
In your open coat
Spring towards the escape.
I lie and the wind moves
I am silent, and he sings...
Sleep takes me to itself,
And the wind won't let me sleep.
That will tear the oven view,
That shutter will shake...
I burrowed under the pillow -
All the same and there to hear.
What is this wind
This rumble, this rumble?
... I fell asleep and did not notice
I didn't notice how I fell asleep.
Got up in the morning, got dressed,
I went out into the garden, I looked around:
And where does the wind go?
He lay down, I go.
He is silent, but I sing.
I'm terribly surprised!
I can't manage
Explain where he is from.
A miracle happened in our garden.
No, really a miracle, I'm not lying!
Suddenly neither from there nor from here
It appeared in the morning.
Yesterday the gooseberries were all glowing,
He was cheeky and funny.
And now it has immediately blossomed,
It stands under the greenery.
What juices fermented in it,
To help this miracle?
Or the winds woke him up
All day yesterday and all night?
Ile so warmed up in the sun,
So violently life blossomed in him,
That he, as an invited guest, dressed
For a holiday of light and warmth?
The warm rain is near
Warm rain and direct.
He clicks on the glass
He will drive everyone home.
He will smooth my whirlwinds,
Nicely wash me...
He will charge, he will charge
For two, even three days.
And get tired - stop
Knock, click, hit the glass,
And then the world will become
Surprisingly warm.
We planted in the garden
Fragrant color - mignonette,
At the porch for shade -
Two lilac bushes.
Along the alley - marigolds,
bright red flowers,
And on the main garden -
Asters are in disarray.
Directly to the windows, to the facade,
Clings, twists,
Wild grapes are flying
Climbs - does not give up.
And in plain sight
There will be dahlias...
We planted in the garden
Rowan tree.
The pretty garden is green,
Blooms luxuriantly.
Birds in it sing, whistle,
You can hear them far away!
I opened my eyes a little
Is it morning or not?
And I see - pouring from the window
Hot golden light.
And the shadows move carved
From the lace curtain
And the bunnies are dancing through
In front of me and above me.
Where do the light ones come from?
Who sends them to me?
So I pushed a saucer with water,
And the bunny trembled on the wall.
Another disappeared from the sofa back -
Rushed quickly, like a spinning top,
When I hid under the sheets
Clock from the table.
! And the third jumps, as he jumped,
Plays like he played
Although I touched things, moved,
Everything that glittered was removed.
I look without taking my eyes off
How it trembles on the ceiling...
Maybe a raindrop
Not dried on the petal?
: And the wind sways the petal,
And the sun shines through in a drop.
Here my bunny lives and breathes,
And silver, and glides.
How cool in the thicket of spruce!
I carry flowers in an armful ...
white-headed dandelion,
Do you feel good in the forest?
You grow on the very edge,
You are standing in the heat.
Cuckoos are chirping above you
Nightingales sing at dawn.
And the fragrant wind blows
And drops the leaves on the grass...
Dandelion, fluffy flower,
I will gently rip you off.
I'll rip you off, baby, can I?
And then I'll take it home.
... The wind blew carelessly -
My dandelion flew around.
Look what a blizzard
In the middle of a hot day!
And fluffs fly, sparkling,
On the flowers, on the grass, on me...

I'm running along the edge
And I sing a funny song.
Echo loud and discordant
Repeats my song.
I asked the echo: - Will you shut up? -
L herself quieted down and stood.
And it answered me:
- You, you, you!
It means that he understands my speech.
I said:
- You sing awkwardly! -
And I calmed down and stand.
And it answered me:
- OK OK! -
It means that he understands my speech.
I laugh - and everything rings with laughter,
Shut up - and everywhere silence ...
Sometimes I walk alone
And not boring, because the echo ...

SUMMER RAIN

wide above me
The cloud has become a wall.
The rain is falling on the side
He will pass by.
Well, if you want
Let, bubbling and ringing,
Even if it gets wet to the thread -
Let me get wet!
I won't be afraid
I won't run away...
The sun will come out - I will wrap
On a fragrant meadow.
And take off my sandals
And along the straight stitch,
On a trodden stitch
Through a field of potatoes
I'll run home.

PO RASPBERRY

I put on a belt
Tied up a tuesok
ran through the raspberries
Through the meadow, through the forest.
I moved the bushes.
Well, shady, well, dense!
And raspberries, raspberries
The largest krupnost!
The largest large
The reddest redness!
I wandered for an hour
I see - full of tuesok.
I ran back
Through the meadow, through the forest.
The sun wanders in the sky.
Good for him and me!
I reach for the modest russula,
My gaze towards her
like it's stuck.
Meanwhile stands in the shadow of a secluded
round, large,
strong porcini mushroom.
My whole soul went cold!
I fell in love with them at first
And then lightly faked
With his penknife.
I looked around the clearing
Wiping sweat from face with elbow.
Suddenly ... Here is the joy:
next to the tree
Two such strong fellows!
I wandered a little more
And went home happy
Because a complete basket
I got big, strong whites.

The sun was hot, hot and hot.
The rain was falling, the wind was blowing.
And the raspberries took and ripened
Exactly, exactly on time!
How do you move the bushes apart and how do you look,
Even dumbfounded immediately take:
Everything is red! You get tired of picking -
Krynki to the top, full and mouth.
Hands are splashed with scarlet juice ...
That's the berry! Is there any redder?
And you laugh when inadvertently
Eat a forest bug with her.
Summer day is both wonderful and long,
And doze off in a haystack behind a hut -
Lots of large and red raspberries
It will float, it will float before you.

RAIN

Willows get wet lonely,
Chickens huddle under the fence.
It rains non-stop
Come on, it's the fourth day.
Knitted feet in yellow clay,
The windows are crying at the hut.
There is no sweetness in raspberries
Mushrooms have become slippery.
After all, in the morning it’s like a bucket!
Look, the light has already disappeared -
Not tubs and not buckets,
And streams pour from heaven.
- There will be a bucket, - mother said, -
Wait a day or two.
There was a rainbow.
She shone high
Seven-colored arc.
Over the rye, crushed by the rain,
It costs almost a day through.
Oryol wind smells like mint,
Wormwood, honey, silence.
I walk with a wall of high bread,
I'm going, I'm going to stand
Admiring how the sky fell
Into a full track.
Birds fly on the blue bottom
Clouds are floating sadly ...
I'm standing ... I'm afraid to stumble,
I'm very afraid to stumble -
So this abyss is deep!
Forest tight road
Into such a thicket led
Where it was a little scary
Where the silence was silent strictly
And firmly by the heart took.
As if in the ear got in and out -
Not a monster, not a man!
As if the pines conspired
Closed tightly, closed
And they won't be released forever.
And the goblin leads with a wild look,
Raising short horns.
Behind the bright red fly agaric,
Like a walleye spots on which,
In an embrace with a broom Yaga.
Do not try to run - they will not let branches,
The branches will choke anyway
Or tighten the spider web ...
(Here by the way pike command,
Yes, no - not in store!)
And suddenly a cool emerald
The old moss began to glow.
And the sun, rolling out a dish,
By your ordinary miracle
The magic was taken by surprise.
And immediately everything fell into place:
Behind the fly agaric - stump-Yaga,
Birch is a cheerful birch,
A dugout at the exit ... And the forest is -
Two steps from the village!

BIRD CHEST

We walk through the forest, we hear -
one voice asks:
- Bush - let me go?
Bush - will let?
And then he answers himself:
- Let go!
Let it go!
Let it go!
Very happy:
Here is comfort, here is comfort, here is comfort!
Another busily and lively:
- That's it, that's where I was sheltered!
That's it, that's where I got shelter!
Third about the nest:
- Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!
Fourth - cautionary:
- Don't let strangers in!
Don't let strangers!
Don't let strangers!
Fifth surprised:
- Whose? Whose? Whose?
All together - cheerfully, cordially:
- Everyone is here!
Here are all yours!
Here are all yours!
Voice to voice
The song is sung.
Spikelet to spikelet -
Let's see off the summer.
The water is cooling
The birds are flying...
There is a stack on the collective farm
golden wheat.
The grains are crushed into flour,
Isn't this a miracle?
Spikelet to spikelet -
Pies on a plate!

TEACH TO SHOE AND BROTHER

I can dress
If I want to.
me and little brother
I will teach you how to dress.
Here are the boots.
This one is on the left foot
This one is on the right foot.
If it rains,
Let's put on galoshes.
This one is from the right foot
This one is from the left leg.
That's how good!
I, as a mother, do not like
In a house of chaos.
I'll spread the blanket
Rough and smooth.
Pa down pillows
I'll put on a muslin.
Admire, toys,
To work for me!
Mom kneaded the dough
From wheat flour.
I asked for a piece
I started making pies.
I sculpt, I make
I just don't get it:
Mom has white
I have gray
I do not know why.

GOOD MORNING!

I rise with the sun
I sing along with the birds:
- Good morning!
- Happy clear day!
That's how nice we sing!
Paradise, Mashenka and Zhenya,
Wash your hands well
Don't feel sorry for the soap.
I've set the table.
All set appliances,
Handed out napkins to everyone.
Stop talking -
I gave you soup.
Knife, fork or spoon
Don't keep your fingers crossed.
Do not feed the cat right away:
The bowl of the cat is in the corner.
Don't dip the bread in the salt shaker
And don't push each other.
The second will be fish,
And for dessert - compote.
Did you have lunch? Here you go!
What should be said?
- Thank you!
I found a kitten in the garden.
He meowed thinly,
He meowed and trembled.
Maybe he was beaten
Or they forgot to let them into the house,
Or did he run away?
The day in the morning was rainy,
Puddles of gray everywhere...
So be it, unfortunate animal,
I will help your trouble!
I took him home
Fully fed...
Soon my kitten became
A glance is simple!
Wool - like velvet, tail - a pipe ...
How good is he!

ON RAINY DAYS

Me on stormy days
Undertook to cut scarves.
It has to be done cleanly.
Slowly,
Without haste
And then
Edges of cambric
Grab the tie of the hemstitch.
There were patches
Handkerchiefs were made.
I want -
I will put
label
In every corner.
Or lace I
I will mark the edges easily.
Mom will say:
“What a daughter!
My needlewoman!"
Grandma gave me
Red patch.
Gave silk
Yellow skein.
We took the scissors
Cut out the flag
And on this flag
Wrote like this:
"PEACE - PEACE!"
yellow stitches
I'll circle the letters.
For the October holiday
I'll go for a walk.
The scarlet flag will rise
in my hand
And everyone will read
On my checkbox:
"PEACE - PEACE!"
Creeps behind the window
Frosty day.
Standing on the window
Flower-light.
crimson color
petals bloom,
As if really
Fires lit up.
I water it
its shore,
give him
Nobody can!
He's very bright
It's very good
Very much for my mother
Like a fairy tale!

WITH ROOF-CAP...

From the roof - cap,
From the roof - cap...
Frost has become
Very weak
And the snows have settled.
Sun
Lives in a mountain.
Sun
Gorenka floats,
Like on a carousel.

STROLL

Pulled on the gloves
She buttoned up her coat.
The wind touches the pigtails,
Blowing fun in the face.
And the snow swirled
Shut up, shut up.
I rolled an arrow from the mountain,
I was lighter than the wind!
Gloves are lost
Coat unbuttoned...
Very difficult without habit!
Very wind hits in the face!

MOTHER'S DAY

I walk, I think, I look:
“What will I give my mother tomorrow?
Maybe a doll? Maybe some candy?"
NO!
Here's to you, dear, on your day
Little scarlet flower!
boats
From nut shells
Ten light boats came out...
Match with a red patch -
Mast in the middle.
And swam the stream
Boats - winches.
The brooks are singing,
That and know meet.
Kashi boats are floating,
Ride on the waves.
The guests jumped and sang,
After they all sat in a circle -
Drank tea, ate sweets
And praised the pie.
The cabbage pie was good
But much tastier than the other:
Very sweet, very tasty
With bright yellow dried apricots.
And then they played hide-and-seek
In dolls, tags and horses.
And then all of a sudden they left
And my brother and I went to bed.

GIFT

A friend came to me
And we played with her.
And here is one toy
She suddenly looked up:
clockwork frog,
Cheerful, funny.
I'm bored without toys -
Favorite was.
But still a friend
I gave away the frog.
Mom sang a song
Dressed my daughter.
Dressed a-put on a
White shirt.
white shirt -
Thin line.
Mom sang a song
Shoe my daughter.
Fastened with an elastic band
For every stocking.
Light stockings
On my daughter's feet.
Mom sang a song
Mom dressed the girl
Red dress with polka dots
New shoes on legs...
That's how mom pleased -
Dressed up my daughter for May.
That's what mom -
Golden right!

PRIMER

Outside the window the moon-lantern
Quietly floats in the sky ...
I have a primer now
Lives on my table.
They gave me a primer
On my birthday.
And, having given, they said:
"There is nothing more wonderful!"
Mom is sleeping, she is tired...
Well, I didn't play!
I don't start a top
And I sit down and sit.
My toys don't make noise
Quiet in an empty room.
And on my mother's pillow
The beam is stealing golden.
And I said to the beam:
I also want to move.
I would like a lot:
Read aloud and roll the ball.
I would sing a song
I could laugh
Whatever I want!
But my mother is sleeping, and I am silent.
The beam darted along the wall,
And then slithered towards me.
"Nothing," he whispered,
Let's sit in silence!

PRO FLAG

Mom put
Into a bottle of water
cherry stick -
Escape young.
A week goes by
And a month has passed
And a cherry twig
Bloomed with flowers.
I am quiet at night
I lit the lamp
And in a jar of water
Checked the box.
What if brushes
Will the flag bloom?
Suddenly a banner will rise
On next year?
But my mother saw
Light in the room
Came and said:
- It won't grow, no!
She said:
- You, son, do not be sad!
You better yourself
Grow faster.
Here you will become like dad,
go to work
And a big banner
You will carry it in your hands.
Our grandfather doesn't like shadows.
He loves the sun and warmth.
Trembling at the old knees
It's hard for the poor guy to walk.
He sees almost nothing
Can't hear anything, deaf...
And the chicken will offend him.
Our grandfather is very bad!
But we can't live without it
He is like family to us.
He will come out - we will help him
Set up a folding chair.
And we'll sit well
We'll cover our feet, and then
Smooth out the gray beard
Or braid in pigtails.
And if the grandfather starts a fairy tale,
We sit until dark.
No one dares to move
Everyone is listening with their mouths open.
Is there anywhere in the world
A friendship like ours?
Do you want us to tell you these fairy tales
Will we tell you next time?
I'll give you a riddle
And you guess it.
Who puts a patch on the heel,
Who irons and mends the clothes?
Who cleans the house in the morning
Who puts a big samovar?
Who plays with little sister
And takes her to the boulevard?
By whom the fringed rug is embroidered
(Sister - see everything)?
Who writes detailed letters
Soldier, my father?
Whose hair is whiter than snow
Are your hands yellow and dry?
Whom I love and pity
Who did you write poetry about?

BIRD BIRD

Bird cherry, bird cherry,
Are you standing white?
- For the spring holiday,
Bloomed for May.
- And you, grass-ant,
What are you doing softly?
- For the spring holiday,
For a May day.
- And you, thin birches,
What is green now?
- For the holiday! For the holiday!
For May! For spring!
The sun is yellow
Laid down on the bench.
I'm barefoot today
She ran on the grass.
I saw how they grow
sharp blades of grass,
I saw how they bloom
Blue periwinkles.
I heard how in the pond
frog croaked,
I heard how in the garden
The cuckoo was crying.
I saw a goose
At the flower bed
He is a big worm
Pecked at the tub.
I heard the nightingale
Here's a good singer!
I saw an ant
Under a heavy burden
I am so strong
I wondered for two hours...
... And now I want to sleep,
Well, you are tired! ..

SHINE CLEARLY!

Burn-burn clear!
The sun is red
Burn-burn clear!
Fly into the sky like a bird
Light up our land
So that gardens and orchards
Green, bloom, grow!
The sun is red
Burn-burn clear!
Swim like a fish in the sky
Revive our land
All the kids in the world
Warm up, heal up!
1
And we have a girl
Call her Alyonushka.
Chorus girl,
Round head.
Whoa all day long
That's all her words.
2
Like our daughter
Pink cheeks.
Like our bird
Dark eyelashes.
Like our baby
Warm feet.
Like our paw
Scratchy nails.
3
Oh, okay, okay, okay
Let's bake pancakes
Let's put a window
Let's make it cool down.
And cool down - let's eat
And we'll give it to the sparrows.
Sparrows sat down
Pancakes were eaten
Pancakes ate -
Shu-u-u! .. and flew away.
We won't go to bed early
The daughter needs a bath.
Warm water
We lie on our bird.
Oh, water off the goose,
Thinness from Alyonushka!
Give me a diaper
Wrap Alyonka.
5
bayu-bayu-bayinki,
Bunnies jumped up:
Is your girl sleeping
Chorus girl?
- Go away, bunnies,
Don't interfere bainki! -
Lyuli-lyuli-lyulenki,
The gulenki have arrived:
Is your girl sleeping
Chorus girl?
- Fly away, gulenki,
Let baby sleep.
The sun will rise tomorrow
Alyonushka will also get up.
The sun will warm
The daughter will sing.
Whole day "wah, wah..."
Love what it is!
6
The little girl woke up
Stretched sweetly,
I lay down, I lay down
Yes, she smiled.
The heart is beating fast.
Oh my fish!
What is the road
Your smile to me
7
A-tu-tu
A-tu-tu
We have five teeth in our mouth.
And a year will pass
The mouth will be full.
Carrot gets on the tooth
Hrup-crunch,
Crunch-crunch!
Cabbage will fall
And she won't get off.
And we know a lot about nuts
click-click,
Click-click!
hard road
From oven to doorstep!
From threshold to table
It's also very hard.
That-top, top-top,
Swayed - slap!
And sits - does not cry, -
Didn't get hurt!
9
oily porridge,
Painted spoon!
We Alyonka never
We do not ask.
Never,
Never,
Right-word,
Never!
10
Looked out the window
Round moon...
Our Alyonushka
Got sick!
The heart is beating fast
I almost cry:
- What's wrong with you, fish?
Quiet mine? -
I went to the doctor
She ran and brought.
The doctor cured Alyonka -
Daughter is happy again!
And on the collective farm there is a house -
Right Terem-Teremok!
someone who's in Teremochka lives,
Who lives in a low place?
Maybe a mouse?
Not!
Well, frog frog?
Not!
So, bunny coward?
Not!
Well, fox-sister?
Not!
There are beds in the tower,
The children sleep on the beds.
Getting up early
Wash white.
Sitting quietly at tables
They don't look at food, they eat.
After they dance, but how:
And like this,
And just like that
And in pairs
And in a circle
And jump
And step by step...
Our Alyonka is ahead
Waving a scarlet flag.
12
I'll go to the street
I'm going to have fun.
I am Alyonushka by the hand,
Like a big one, I'll take it.
Shine, shine, sun
Greener, meadow!
Raise, Alyonushka,
Your first flag!
Higher, raise higher -
Today is May Day!

Backs are warm on a blade of grass
Golden spiders.
Along a winding path
All grains of sand and knots.
The wind carries a tiny midge,
Thin-legged mosquito.
Runs out onto the track
For the caretaker of the children.
The most swarthy and curly,
The most daring - look:
He walks in front of the crowd
Left-right - ahead.
And behind him, like strawberries
On the bake, in the south,
Two little sisters
Two pigtails in the wind.
And behind them are five mushrooms -
Ten heels, five noses,
Five October boys
One hundred cheerful voices.
And everyone has baskets in their hands,
Everyone is chirping like crickets!
Backs are warm on a blade of grass
Golden spiders.

Rain, rain, don't rain
Don't wait, wait.
Come out, come out, sunshine
Golden bottom!
I'm on a rainbow arc
I love it, I'll run
Seven-color-color
I'll wait in the meadow.
I'm on the red arc
I can't look
For orange, for yellow
I see a new arc.
This new arc
Greener than the meadows.
And behind it is blue
Just like my mother's earring.
I'm on the blue arc
I can't look
And behind this purple
I'll take it and run...
The sun has set behind the haystacks
Where are you, rainbow-arc?

YELLOW RAY
(ENDLING SONG)

The blue day moved the shadows,
I walked along the stitches, along the paths.
The yellow beam jumped on the tree
Between the goal and ... disappeared.
He didn't disappear anywhere.
Just fell on the grass
Touched pink porridge,
Rocked on a camomile
Dandelion tousled
Slipped and... disappeared.
He didn't disappear anywhere.
Just hit the fir tree.
The blue day moved the shadows,
I walked along the stitches, along the paths.
The yellow beam jumped on the tree
Between the needles and ... disappeared.
He didn't disappear anywhere.
I just fell on the grass...
and so on - without end.

PROGURETTE
(PATTER)

Yogurt was given to Klasha -
Dissatisfied Clasha:
- I do not want curdled milk,
Just give me porridge.
Dali instead of curdled milk
Our Clash of porridge.
- I don't want just porridge,
So - without curdled milk. ^
Dali along with curdled milk
Kashi Klash our.
Ate, ate Klasha porridge
Along with curdled milk.
And I ate - I got up,
Thank you said.

BUBBLE

Quietly whispering with a willow.
Old birch.
Walks around the yard with a broom
Grandfather Seryozha.
- Grandfather Seryozha, look,
We're blowing bubbles!
You see, in every bubble -
By crimson dawn
Along the birch, along the willow,
But Seryozha, on a broomstick.
You look, look, look:
Bubbles flew -
Red, yellow, blue, -
Choose any one!

THREE PICTURES
(PATTER)

On a cardboard
Three pictures:
In one picture - a cat,
In the other picture - a lid,
And on the third
On the picture -
Black cat
From yellow
Krynki
Milk
He laps and drinks.

NEAR THE BED
(PATTER)

Near the garden -
two blades,
Near the tub -
Two buckets.
After morning exercise
We worked in the garden -
And landing
Everything is good,
Them
Now
pour over
It's time!

1
Our Masha got up early,
She counted all the dolls:
Two Matryoshkas -
on the window,
Two Arinka -
On the feather
Two Feklushki -
On the pillow
A Petrushka
B cap -
On a green box
2
To build a new house
They store oak wood,
bricks,
Iron,
paint,
Nails,
tow
And putty.
And then, then, then
They start building a house.
3
- locomotive,
Locomotive,
What did you bring us as a gift?
- I brought
colored
books,
Let
Read
Kids.
I brought
Pencils,
Let
draw
Babies.
4
Like in our garden
How many flowers bloom
poppies,
roses,
Marigold,
Asters - variegated flowers,
Dahlias and levkoy,
Which one do you choose?
One-two -
Blue!
Three four -
Sun in the world!
Five six -
There is a river!
Seven eight -
Let's drop Mikey!
Nine ten -
Sunbathing for a whole month!

POEMS ABOUT THE FIR-TREE, ABOUT THE GRAY WOLF,
ABOUT THE DRAGONFLY AND THE POOR GOAT

I love by the tree
One to sit.
I love properly
See everything:
What kind of toys
Are they bored
Or who is dissatisfied
Your neighbor.
Here next to Frost
Hanging dragonfly.
And with a toothy wolf,
Look, it's a goat.
I think it's cold
There's a dragonfly
And very scary
Poor goat.
I'm next to Frost
I'll hang a star
And this goat
I'll take it here.
By the way, here is a flower.
Bloomed golden.
And the sun is shining
- Well, goat, stop!
And here is the bell.
It's porcelain.
touch him -
A call will be heard.
Here is the ballerina
And here is the cockerel.
Next to him is a chicken,
Like yellow fluff.
And this is a cracker
And this is a flag
And this is a shepherd.
He plays horn.
Wait, goat
I'll post it here.
Goat and shepherd -
Great, right?
Here is a striped ball,
This is a bear.
Here is the bird
Going to sing.
And it's a mushroom
And this is the moon.
And this is fragrant
Heap of hay.
Wait, goat
I'll post it here.
Goat at the shock -
Great, right?
But sadly suddenly
The goat screamed.
I look - because of the hay
Eyes sparkle.
I laugh until I drop:
Here's the thing!
I goat to the wolf
Brought again!
I, therefore, a Christmas tree
Walked around.

FOREST FABLES

1. Raspberry bush

A barren raspberry bush rustled:
- Look at me - I'm whole!
I'm whole! My foliage is not crumpled,
It stands as a green wall.
Me collective farm guys
Always bypassed.
Malinnik made a noise:
- Well,
We don't mind hearing this!
You look good, maybe
Yes, the berries are not visible on you,
So uselessly and live,
And it's a shame!

The old valuuy said to his sons:
- Enough to be ashamed of us!
We are excellent mushrooms
Almost like mushrooms.
And not freaks - many more beautiful,
Not fools - smarter than others.
Hurry up and paint our hats 1
And let's get on our feet.
Well, that's what they did
Seated side by side in the shade.
And a baby ran through the forest,
I saw them and called out:
- Look,
What a friendly family
Four bitter valui!

3. Fly agaric

Once a red fly agaric
Boasted in front of the mushrooms,
That he decorates the forest,
That everyone can see for themselves,
How dressed he is
How smart
What a hat!
And the cheesecake said:
- There is little sense in your outfit.
You, father, look good,
But poisonous!

4. Good beetle

Once an ant was dragging a twig,
Which was much harder
A bug crawled towards him -
Such a fat and kind man! ..
And, pitying the poor worker,
He asked him this:
- You will not be left without strength?
I advise you, drop this burden!
- No, - Ant said, - I won't quit!
And if you can't look at me,
Isn't it easier to help?
What do you think neighbor?
... But the good-natured man caught a trace!

5. Cuckoo and magpie

Cuckoo sitting on a bough
Made her way: - Ku-ku, ku-ku, ku-ku! -
Magpie says: - You sing how absurdly,
Dull and monotonous!
If only I could learn from the birds
In the forest, go, there are a lot of craftswomen! -
The cuckoo answered her:
- You're right, chirp,
My melody is simple, it does not please the ear!
And yet I stand on my own
And I don’t sing from someone else’s voice!

FORTY-WHITE-SIDE

I
Like a white-sided magpie
I got up at dawn,
I got up at dawn,
She started cooking.
She applied water
kneaded the dough,
sawed firewood,
Fired up the stove.
And the drum crow
I flew through the forest
To Sorokin's cooking
Called guests:
- You, canary birds,
Fly down, get going!
Today we have a holiday
Revelry:
At the white-sided magpie
Housewarming in the house.

2
Crane heard
Came out of the swamp
Boots cleaned -
Departed...
Duck undressed,
I looked into the puddle -
How elegant!
Went...
working woodpecker
Didn't waste time
Also dressed up
Departed...
Only the old owl
Was not strong in walking:
Harnessed a gray hare to a taratayka -
Departed...
Rides along the edge,
The frogs are hiding.
And one was so bold
I clung to the back - I went! ..

3
On the hill, on the mountain
Magpie in the yard
The guests gathered
Canary birds.
Who lay on the grass
Who sat on the bench
And the jumping frog
Basking at the groove.
Here is a white-sided magpie
Jumped on the threshold
Dear guests
She let me into the mountain.
All canary birds
Together they sat down on the benches, on the benches!
Suddenly chili-chili-chili -
The guests arrived late.
Jump-jump, jump-jump, -
Sparrows on the threshold.
seated the sparrow
Next to a frog.
Sparrow treated
Dried fly.
And then the feast went -
Revelry:
At the white-sided magpie
Housewarming in the house.
crane crane
Realized very soon
Pushed the mug away
Hap - and ate a frog.
Magpie got angry
Yes, how it floods
White-sided angry
Yes, how it will chirp:
- Don't be that
At my house! -
The guests jumped
They squeal with anger:
- Where have you seen that guests
Ate the guests themselves? -
The crane trembled
The long beak gaped.
Sparrow ran up
And took out the frog.

5
Barely departed
Poor frog.
Dipped her with her head in a tub,
Covered with sheepskin
Drink raspberries.
A white-sided magpie
Opened the gate:
- Go away, crane, to your swamp!
From these guests
Don't take the bones! -
Here the rooks began to play,
Trumpet musicians.
All canary birds
overturned benches
And benches
And let's go for a walk
Lead a round dance.
A white-sided magpie
Didn't get it either:
Jumped up, turned around
She sang merrily:
- You, hostess, dance, dance, dance,
It hurts legs, it hurts legs are good!

6
A young month has come out,
Illuminated the swamp.
Walks-wanders over water
Long legged someone.
Bored, sad alone
My crane!
But there's nothing you can do about it!

Blaginina Elena Alexandrovna was born in 1903 in the Oryol province in the family of a railway worker. She began to write children's poems in the thirties, although she began to publish as a poetess from the age of 18. In her poems, Blaginina often wrote about ordinary, everyday things surrounding the child. However, she also has works in which the author turns the ordinary into the extraordinary, and a prime example this .

Collection of the best children's poems by E. Blaginina

KITTY

I found a kitten in the garden.
He meowed thinly,
He meowed and trembled.

Maybe he was beaten
Or they forgot to let them into the house,
Or did he run away?

The day from morning was rainy,
Gray puddles everywhere...
So be it, unfortunate beast,
Help your trouble!

I took him home
I fed my fill…
Soon my kitten became
A glance is simple!
Wool - like velvet,
The tail is a pipe ...
How good are you!

RAINBOW

Rain, rain, don't rain
Don't wait, wait!
Come out, come out, sunshine
Golden bottom!

I'm on a rainbow arc
I love to run
Seven-color-color
I'll wait in the meadow.

I'm on the red arc
I can't look
For orange, for yellow
I see a new arc.

This new arc
Greener than the meadows.
And behind it is blue
Just like my mother's earring.

I'm on the blue arc
I can't look
And behind this purple
I'll take it and run...

The sun has set behind the haystacks
Where are you, rainbow-arc?

DANDELION

How cool in the thicket of spruce!
I carry flowers in an armful ...
white-headed dandelion,
Do you feel good in the forest?

You grow on the very edge,
You are standing in the heat.
Cuckoos are chirping above you
Nightingales sing at dawn.

And the fragrant wind blows
And drops the leaves on the grass...
Dandelion, fluffy flower,
I will gently rip you off.

I'll rip you off, baby, can I?
And then I'll take it home.
... The wind blew carelessly -
My dandelion flew around.

Look what a blizzard
In the middle of a hot day!
And fluffs fly, sparkling,
On the flowers, on the grass, on me...

ABOUT THE CRYSTAL Slip

A cricket is chirping in the corner,
The door is locked with a hook.
I am looking at a book
About the crystal shoe.

A fun ball in the palace
The shoe fell off my foot.
Cinderella is very upset
Leave the high room.

But she went home
She took off her magnificent dress
And dressed in rags again
And started working...

It became quiet and dark
The moonbeam fell through the window.
I hear my mother's sweet voice:
"It's time for you to sleep!"
The cricket fell silent in the corner.
Let's turn to the side -
I watch a fairy tale in a dream
About the crystal shoe.

window leaf

I opened the window for a minute
And I stand spellbound...
Right in the captain's cabin,
The wind blows into my room.

Having flown, the curtains fluttered
And puffed up like sails.
I see the oceans
Bright, alien skies.

I know, I know - it's not summer outside,
The cold is growing stronger under the moon.
Why are parquet squares
Trembling, swayed under me?

And the water, roaring, raged ...
And not in a dream, but in reality
I'm on watch at the helm,
To the shores of the unknown I swim.

Here is the siren carefully and low
She lifted her voice.
Where will we be tomorrow?
In San Francisco?
Or in some other port?
Or let's swim without a break
In this azure depth?
…I woke up. Legs are like ice
Hands too. Head is on fire.

I slammed the window shut. And it became
Everything is in place. I climbed into bed
Buried more tightly in a blanket
And slowly began to float away.

The sound resounded important and lingering -
This midnight beats behind the wall.
Our whole house is a multi-storey ship -
An ocean of silence floats ...

PRO FLAG

Mom put
Into a bottle of water
cherry stick,
Escape young.

A week goes by
And a month has passed
And a cherry twig
Bloomed with flowers.

I am quiet at night
I lit the lamp
And in a jar of water
Checked the box:

What if brushes
Will the flag bloom?
Suddenly a banner will rise
For next year?

But my mother saw
Light in the room
Came and said:
- It won't grow! Not! —
She said: -
You, son, do not be sad!
You better yourself
Grow faster.
Here you will become like dad, -
go to work
And a big banner
You will carry it in your hands.

FIRE

Creeps behind the window
Frosty day.
Standing on the window
Flower-light.

crimson color
petals bloom,
As if really
Fires lit up.

I water it
its shore,
give him
Nobody can!

He's very bright
It's very good
Very much for my mother
Like a fairy tale!

ECHO

I'm running along the edge
And I sing a funny song.
Echo loud and discordant
Repeats my song.

I asked the echo: "Will you shut up?" —
And I calmed down and stand.
And it answered me: “Look you, you look!”
It means that he understands my speech.

I said: - You sing awkwardly! —
And I calmed down and stand.
And it answered me: “Okay, okay!”
It means that he understands my speech.

I laugh - and everything rings with laughter,
Shut up - and everywhere silence ...
Sometimes I walk alone
And not boring, because the echo ...

FLIGHT OFF, FLIGHT OFF…

Soon white blizzards
Snow will rise from the ground.
Fly away, fly away, fly away the cranes.

Do not hear the cuckoo in the grove,
And the birdhouse was empty.
The stork flaps its wings -
Fly away, fly away!

Leaf sways patterned
In a blue puddle on the water.
A rook walks with a black rook
In the garden, in the ridge.

Showered, turned yellow
The sun's rays are rare.
Fly away, flew away, flew away and rooks.

THIS IS A MOTHER

Mom sang a song
Dressed my daughter
Dressed-dressed
White shirt.

White shirt -
Thin line.
Mom sang a song
Shoe my daughter
Fastened with an elastic band
For every stocking.

Light stockings
On my daughter's feet.

Mom sang a song
Mom dressed the girl
Red dress with polka dots
New shoes on legs...

That's how mom did it.
Dressed up my daughter for May.
That's what mom -
Golden right!

LET'S SIT IN SILENCE

Mom is sleeping, she is tired ...
Well, I didn't play!
I don't start a top
And I sit down and sit.

My toys don't make noise
Quiet in an empty room.
And on my mother's pillow
The beam is stealing golden.

And I said to the beam:
I want to move too!
I would like a lot:
Read aloud and roll the ball,
I would sing a song
I could laugh
Whatever I want!
But my mother is sleeping, and I am silent.

The beam darted along the wall,
And then slithered towards me.
"Nothing," he whispered,
Let's sit in silence!

OVERCOAT

Why are you keeping your overcoat? —
I asked my dad. —
Why don't you tear it up, why don't you burn it? —
I asked my dad.

After all, she is dirty and old,
Take a better look
There's a hole in the back
Take a better look!

That's why I keep it,
Dad answers me
Therefore, I will not tear, I will not burn, -
Dad answers me. —

Because she is dear to me
What's in this overcoat
We went, my friend, to the enemy
And he was defeated!

I CAN SHOE

I can dress
If I want to.
me and little brother
I will teach you how to dress.

Here are the boots.
This one is on the left foot
This one is on the right foot.

If it rains,
Let's put on boots.
This one is from the right foot
This one is from the left leg.

LOVE IT
TOYS!

I, as a mother, do not like
In a house of chaos.
I'll spread the blanket
Rough and smooth.

For down pillows
I'll put on a muslin.
Admire, toys,
To work for me!

GOT SICK

The sun is yellow
Laid down on the bench.
I'm barefoot today
She ran on the grass.

I saw how they grow
sharp blades of grass,
I saw how they bloom
Blue periwinkles.

I heard how in the pond
frog croaked,
I heard how in the garden
The cuckoo was crying.

I saw a goose
At the flower bed.
He is a big worm
Pecked at the tub.

I heard the nightingale -
Here's a good singer!
I saw an ant
Under a heavy burden.

I am so strong
I wondered for two hours...
And now I want to sleep
Well, you are tired ...

BIRD BIRD

- Bird cherry, bird cherry,
Are you standing white?
- For the spring holiday,
Bloomed for May.

- And you, grass-ant,
What are you doing softly?
- For the spring holiday,
For a May day.

- And you, thin birches,
What is green now?
For a holiday, for a holiday!
For May! For spring!

AUTUMN RAIN
Leisya, rain, in a rut,
Poi black earth.
We don't miss you
You can, little grey, knock.

We answer lessons
And we do not think to be bored.
Yes, and how you miss
If you are in school!

Poetry is an individual expression of one's emotions. Poets of the twentieth century were able to eloquently and subtly describe anything. Many writers wanted to convey their thoughts to the younger generation, because children are the flowers of life. Elena Blaginina's poems carry great amount positive emotions and educational aspects. Rhymes are much easier to perceive, besides, verses have a very positive effect on the child's psyche. This not only develops a sense of beauty in him, but also fills the child’s thoughts with the brightest and most positive sensations. After all, only when reading you can feel the flight of fantasy and acquire unforgettable impressions.

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Even adults, at least sometimes, benefit from reading children's poems. They carry joy and faith in the best. The author conveys to his reader the idea that it is imperative to believe in miracles and never lose heart. Poems of an entertaining nature exist not only to amuse the little reader, but also to teach him a lesson. Boring moralizing is very poorly remembered and perceived by the child not as we would like. Each of us also does not like to listen to lectures. Therefore, the poetic form is the most effective and instructive for the future generation. Elena Blaginina's poems are endowed with a sense of humor. In each work there is a certain meaning that is useful for a little man.

For example, in the poem “This is what a mother is”, Elena shows the true essence of all parents. Each child will read the true meaning of the poem between the lines, and it will remain in his subconscious. The work "Rowan" describes all the beauty of nature, where you can enjoy the singing of birds and relax. The child's thoughts are not yet clogged with stereotypes, poems allow the child to know what "good" is. He has no restrictions in fantasy, which will allow the child to "fly in the clouds" when reading the work. Every verse is positive. Each line suggests the thought that everything will be fine, even if this moment something goes wrong. The works show that one should always believe in miracles, because they are everywhere. No matter how cruel and harsh this world is, you need to believe in miracles and always hope for the best. You need to believe that dreams come true, because this is the meaning.

E.A. Blaginina (1903-1989) came to children's literature in the early 1930s. Her poems were published in the Murzilka magazine. In 1936, her first collection of poems "Autumn" and the poem "Sadko" were published, and in 1939 - the collection "That's what a mother!" Since then, the fund of Russian lyrics for kids has been constantly replenished with her poems.

Blaginina's style is significantly different from the style of Chukovsky, Marshak and even Barto - a special, feminine sound. In Blaginina's poems there is no loud, declarative pathos, their intonation is naturally soft. Femininity shines through in the images of little girls and blossoms in the image of a mother. Efficiency and cordiality, love for everything beautiful, elegant unites mother and daughter - two constant heroines of Blaginina. Her little poem "Alyonushka" can be called a poem of femininity. One of the best poems of the poetess - "That's what mom!" (according to her own assessment, it is “if not perfect, then still truly childish”). It is constructed in such a way that the voices of the mother, the girl (perhaps playing “mother-daughter”) and the author are merged in it:

Mom sang a song, Dressed her daughter, Dressed - put on a white shirt. White shirt - Thin line. That's what mom - Golden right!

She speaks in a clear, sonorous voice. lyrical heroine about love - for her mother, for trees and flowers, for the sun and wind ... The girl knows how not only to admire, but in the name of love and work, and even sacrifice her own interests. Her love is manifested in business, in chores, which are the joy of her life ("Do not interfere with my work"). Children, especially girls, know Blaginina's poem from an early age. "Let's sit in silence."

Mom is sleeping, she's tired... Well, I didn't play either! I do not start a top, I sat down and sit.

The themes of Blaginina's poems are determined by the usual range of interests of kids: home, loved ones, favorite toys, garden and forest. Nature in her poems is close, familiar, also "home". You can directly turn to the bird cherry, to the "grass-ant", to the birches and hear the answer:

Bird cherry, bird cherry, Why are you standing white?

For the spring holiday, For May it blossomed.

Even motives Soviet life the poetess intertwined family life (poems "Overcoat", "Peace to the world", etc.). Contrary to the spirit of ideology and production, Blaginina returned readers to the world of personal, intimate values. In confirmation, one can name her numerous collections: “That's what a mother!” (1939), "Let's sit in silence" (1940), "Rainbow" (1948), "Spark" (1950), "Shine, shine bright!" (1955), the final collection "Alyonushka" (1959), as well as new, later ones - "Grass-ant", "Fly away - flew away."

Elena Blaginina relied in her work on the traditions of folk lullabies for children's songs, on the high simplicity of Pushkin's "verbal" verse, on the color and sound writing of Tyutchev and Fet, the sonority of songwriters - Koltsov, Nikitin, Nekrasov, Yesenin. The rich heritage of folk poetry and classical Russian lyrics helped her to create her own world of pure colors, clear ideas, good feelings:

I put on a belt, I tied a tuesok, I ran through the raspberries Through the meadow, through the woods. I moved the bushes. Well, shady, well, dense! And raspberries, raspberries - the largest krupnost! The largest krupnosty, The reddest redness!

With only the exact word and patterned rhythm, Blaginina created the image mother tongue- bright, sonorous, flexible. The words for her were concrete, physically palpable: “And I feel them! / And I taste them! / Like a bar of wood / And like a brew of cous ... ” Her poems can be strung like beads; they can be sung and even danced. They can also be transferred

The heaviness of colorful vanek-vstanek, The arrogance of curled dolls. And a pink ordinary gingerbread In divorces and patterns of gold. Blaginina's poems are easily scanned, their genre forms are designed for oral existence: these are songs, ditties, counting rhymes, gibberish, tongue twisters, riddles, etc. Their "orality" contributed to the fact that many poems are widely known without the name of the author, like folk poetry.

E. Blaginina also did a lot of translations: she translated poems by T. Shevchenko, L. Ukrainka, M. Konopnitskaya, N. Zabila, Y. Kolas, Y. Tuvim, L. Kvitko, E. Ognetsvet. Her own poems are still heard in many languages ​​​​of the near and far abroad.

36. The world of animals through the eyes of modern Russian writers(N. Sladkov, I. Akimushkin, G. Snegirev S. Sakharnova)

The problem of nature and morality in the works of N. Sladkov, S. Sakharnov, G. Snegirev, and others.

Nikolay Ivanovich Sladkov(1920-1996), living in Leningrad, back in young age met with Vitaly Bianchi. whom he considered his teacher. Sladkov seeks to instill in readers the feeling of "a good elder brother of all living things." He offers to look closely at the life of animals and birds. The range of cognitive material in his book of short stories is unusually wide. "From North to South" (1987): from polar inhabitants - polar foxes and bears, walruses and northern birds - to mountain eagles, snow leopards, porcupines. The person in the book is present indirectly - he does not act in the stories, but he is a kind and interested narrator. And only in conclusion, the author goes “directly” to his reader to tell him: “The book is over, but not the end of incidents and events in ice and sand, forests and mountains. There and now our heroes are playing, hunting, hiding, running and flying. Anyone who has ever seen them on a multi-colored land will want to meet them again in order to find out everything about them.

The writer was sure that nature is capable of making a person happy, and it was incomprehensible to him how a person himself can destroy the source of his happiness, “such love for nature when they declare their love for her with a gun in their hands” is incomprehensible. “Our hearts are still shaggy,” Sladkov said with pain, “we have not yet killed the beast in ourselves, that’s why we kill the beast in the forest so easily.” And the writer became a “daring photohunter”, as he called one of his books (1963): his stories were accompanied by photographs taken by him. N. Sladkov also used the photo gun when creating the books Under the Cap of Invisibility (1968), Land of Solar Fire (1971). "Silhouettes on the Clouds" (1972), "Earth Above the Clouds" (1972), "Children of the Rainbow" (1981).

In Sladkov's books there are no loud declarations of love for all living things, but the author's position is so clear that the reader involuntarily succumbs to its noble influence. The writer was convinced that "natural literature, cognitive and artistic, should develop a new, ecological morality," and subordinated all his books to this main task, from the early Silver Tail (1953) to the later Wild Wings Whistling ( 1977) or The ABC of the Forest (1985). To express the unique beauty of nature, he used a variety of artistic forms. A fairy tale and a parable, a laconic story, sometimes similar to a sketch from nature, memoirs, journalism - all this is colored by a unique writing style, where metaphor is merged with strictly realistic writing.

“Listen to the voices of the living,” Sladkov tirelessly repeated, “listen to the “common heart of life - in every living chest. We are all united by the main miracle of the Earth - life. We can understand each other ”(story“ The Hunt for Voices ”). Svyatoslav Vladimirovich Sakharnov(born 1923), like Sladkov, considers Vitaly Bianchi his teacher. The writer is saddened by the ignorance of today's urban children in environmental issues, the paucity of their ideas about their native land: “The nature that surrounds them is of television origin; they know more about the Amazon than about the Volga.”

Sakharnov entered literature as an already established person - with the experience of a long-distance navigator and a naturalist. Sea voyages, diving in a diving suit, excellent knowledge of seafaring - all this gave him huge material for stories and stories. capital labor writer - “On the seas around the earth. Children's Marine Encyclopedia "(1972) - received four international awards and was translated into several languages ​​(like some other books of the writer).

Fairy tales created by Sakharnov can be divided according to themes into cognitive-biological (“Sea Tales”), educational (“Gak and Burtik in the country of idlers”, “Leopard in the birdhouse”) and processing fairy tales of the peoples of the world (“Tales from the travel suitcase”, Indian "The Tale of Rama, Sita and the Flying Monkey Hanuman").

One of Sakharnov's early books - Indian "Journey on the "Trial"" (1955) - compiled miniature stories with a through action and constant characters: this is the artist on behalf of whom the story is being told, and the scientist and diver Marlene. The characters express the thoughts and feelings that the author himself had on a fascinating sea expedition in the footsteps of "prehistoric animals".

Graceful miniatures made up a book for kids "In the world of dolphin and octopus" (1987). Here is one of them - "Anemone":

Worth it seabed live column. He loosened his tentacle threads, moves them, lures prey. Here the crustacean swims... - Yeah, got caught!

Sakharnov tries to fit as much knowledge, observations and skills into each of his books. Wherever the reader of his books goes, whatever he learns! In the underwater world, where fish look like bizarre flowers, and flowers turn out to be predators; in mangroves and in cold regions; on “lonely islands in the ocean”, where “an amazing, unlike anything world has been preserved. Here, animals do not see people for years, birds gather in huge colonies, and sea animals come by the thousands to rocky or sandy beaches. The accuracy of the descriptions is combined with emotionality. Admiration for what he saw and a thirst for new experiences permeate every line of Sakharnov's works, defining the originality of his writing style. The leopard and the tortoise discuss the meaning of life in Sakharnov's fairy tale. It does not seem strange: animals are the heroes of the book "Leopard in the birdhouse" (1991) highly experienced and intelligent. The tortoise, it turns out, taught at school for a hundred and five years, and the leopard used to be a sailor. Traditional fairy-tale plots are poured into the composed story about them, for example, a sealed bottle appears in which a genie is imprisoned, “a skinny little man with a swarthy face, with a goatee, in a dressing gown and in a turban.” The degree of humanization of the tortoise and leopard is maximum - approximately the same as in the images of Winnie the Pooh or Cheburashka. Children preschool age When reading a fairy tale, they receive lessons in respect for each other, readiness to help in difficult times and just politeness.

Books Gennady Yakovlevich Snegirev(1933 - 2004) are filled with surprise and admiration for what they saw on numerous trips: “When I travel around our country, I am always surprised by cedars in the Sayan Mountains and whales in the Far Eastern seas ... When you are surprised, I want to tell you what a huge country we have, and there are so many interesting things everywhere!” So the writer begins the book "In different regions”(1981) and expresses the hope that his reader, when he grows up, will want to go everywhere and see everything with his own eyes.

As a result of the author's travels, his books "Inhabited Island" (1955), "Beaver Hut" (1958), "Pinagor", "Kachurka", "Lampadidus" (all three - 1960) appeared. K. Paustovsky spoke about the writer as follows: “Absolutely real and accurate things in Snegirev’s stories are sometimes perceived as a fairy tale, and Snegirev himself is like a guide through a wonderful country whose name is Russia.”

The hero of Snegirev's works is a protector of nature from the unreasonable actions of people who do not feel the close interconnection of all life on Earth. Relations with nature should be based on knowledge of its laws - then mutual benefit is also possible. This is what happens in the story. "Camel mitten", from which the little reader can learn a lesson of kindness and responsibility towards another living being: the boy cut off a piece of bread, salted it and took it to the camel - “this is because he gave me wool”; at the same time, he cut the wool "from each hump a little, so that the camel would not freeze."

Many of Snegirev's stories sound like poetic tales, the imagery of which is built on philosophical reflections on life. “The raven returns with nothing: he is very old. He sits on a rock and warms his sick wing. The raven froze him a hundred years, maybe two hundred years ago. Spring is all around, and he is all alone ”(“ The Raven ”). Sometimes romantic pictures appear in the stories: “breezes fly over the steppe and see how poppies bloom at night”; camels dance the “dance of spring”, rejoicing “that winter has passed, the sun is warming and they are alive.”

The fidelity of the depiction of people and animals, as, for example, in the book "Cubs from Kamchatka", is supported by Snegirev's capacious, precise style, energetic and clear language, understandable to children. Everyone who wrote about Snegirev's work invariably noted the closeness of his style to the style of children's stories. L.Tolstoy: the same unhurried flow of narration, restraint and laconism, nobility and humanity.

11:19 — REGNUM Poems Elena Blaginina long ago became something more than just children's literature. This is our background, the foundation, what emerges from the depths of memory - easy, simple, as if by itself, you just have to start. Shabby thin books with cute pictures, a holiday in kindergarten, poems about an overcoat, about mom, about a flower-light, "A fragrant bird cherry, are you standing white", - all this is Elena Alexandrovna Blaginina. She is still a favorite poet among children and parents, her books are republished every year, and today, May 27, she turns 115 years old. Three generations grew up on her books, listened, memorized, babbled touchingly "That's what mom, right golden!"- and then, of course, they forgot about its existence, as they forget about once beloved toys. True, new children were born - and it was then that it turned out that Blaginina's simple nursery rhymes remained in the memory, "in that hiding place where you keep baby dreams".

There is some injustice that people who have been with us all our childhood, educated and accompanied us, carefully introducing us into the realm of literature, are practically unknown to us. Pro Korney Chukovsky, Agnia Barto and Samuil Marshak at least something is known. Who is Elena Blaginina? Nobody, name on the cover. But this is the name of a wonderful person.

She was born in the Oryol region, in the village of Yakovlevo. The most Leskian places, sung by him repeatedly. The village was rather big - besides, it stood on railway. Elena's father Alexander Blaginin, worked as a luggage cashier, grandfather was a priest. In 1903, Alyonushka was born - and grew up like all Yakovlev children. But in a very loving and tender family, she herself is a beloved and tender daughter, granddaughter, sister. Village life, all its joys and difficulties were familiar to her from childhood, and then memories of life in Yakovlevo will be reflected in her wonderful poems, so simple - and at the same time so accurate.

A miracle happened in our garden.

No, really a miracle, I'm not lying!

Suddenly neither from there nor from here

It appeared in the morning.

Yesterday the gooseberries were all glowing -

He was cheeky and funny.

And now it has immediately blossomed,

It stands under the greenery.

In the Blaginins' house, they read a lot and willingly. Grandfather taught at a parochial school, mother was "a great book cell with a phenomenal memory", grandmother knew a huge number of fairy tales, songs, proverbs. The folkloric beginning - not a tortured stunted stylization, but a full-fledged folk word, then Elena Alexandrovna's work will be permeated. No wonder Chukovsky loved her so much "baby, village voice". The Blaginins subscribed to children's magazines, staged home amateur performances - for themselves and the neighbor's children. Favorite books were instantly "swallowed" - both children and adults read avidly - and then they exchanged quotes, enjoyed the exactly caught word, unusual metaphor, successful rhyme. Is it any wonder that at the age of 8 Alyonushka wrote her first poem?

Elena Alexandrovna recalled many years later how she, a teenager, had just read "Poor People" Dostoevsky. “Having closed the book, I looked around and did not recognize the familiar upper room. The evening sun lay on the floor, golden and heavy; the rug ran obliquely across the painted floor, the mirror of the tiled stove shone coolly white. I could not understand - what should I do with this delight, bursting my chest, with this excitement, with this mountain, which suddenly became a haven for a miracle.

The family moved to Kursk, and Elena entered the gymnasium there, choosing for herself the holy path of a folk teacher, following the example of her beloved grandfather. The time was difficult, the Revolution, Civil War. The gymnasium was closed - Lena finished her studies already in the usual high school. And yet she entered the Pedagogical School, went to classes 7 kilometers from home. In 1921, the first poem of the student Blaginina was published in the collection "The Beginning", the girl became a member of the Kursk Union of Poets.

“The world shone with such colors, such triumph… Block, Bryusov, White, Parsnip, Aseev, Akhmatova, Tsvetaeva, Yesenin, Mayakovsky- poets who, before my entry into the circle, were completely unknown to me ” Blaginina later recalled this time.

And Lena also heard that in Moscow there is an institute where they teach to be poets, and caught fire with a new idea. She secretly left for Moscow, fearing that her relatives would not appreciate her impulse and force her to finish the Pedagogical. In Moscow, she went to the founder and inspirer of the Higher Literary and Art Institute (VLHI) - Valery Bryusov. After an interview, he accepted her. There were no exams - Bryusov personally, at the interview, decided whether the applicant would enter the VLHI family. Apart from general development, they could ask anything - they talked about the life experience of the applicant, about books, about history, they could offer to solve a mathematical problem. The "master" selected students according to his personal views. So Lena Blaginina herself chose her fate, or rather, did not resist her.

WHL was unique educational institution. Bryusov picked up a brilliant professorial team, poetry evenings were held at the VLHI, students were immersed in a constant, ongoing creative process; the colossal knowledge and experience of their mentors set a very high standard.

“In those years, the reader of poetry was some kind of furiously greedy, but ... picky. Everything present was remembered immediately, firmly, forever, and caused some kind of violent delight ... Here I read my "Grenada" Svetlov, Mayakovsky came here, here Tsjavlovsky asked the students what was the name of Tatyana Larina's father and whether he had been Pushkin abroad, and how instrumented" Bronze Horseman". Here Georgy Shengeli demonstrated to intoxicated listeners the wonders of modulated iambic... Eichengoltz feasted with the audience at the feasts of French literature with a purely Rabelaisian scope. Read German Literature here Grigory Rachinsky is our patriarch. He seemed terribly old to us—he was then in his fifties. Finally, Valery Bryusov himself, as always tightly buttoned, pulled up, in starched, white collars, folding his hands in Vrubel's fashion, read a lecture on the Middle Ages, now Latin, now physics, now philosophy. I don't remember if he had any particular discipline in the course. He was more like a conductor who played this or that part so that the orchestra member knew how to conduct it. All this together created an impression of great spirituality, significance.

When the power was turned off in the building, which happened quite often, Bryusov offered his students to read poems from memory. For Blaginina, as well as for many other students, VLHI was an invaluable, magical gift of fate - all those five years that it existed.

“In Moscow, I found myself without a home, without money, without work ... But I still found a job - as a scribe in the luggage expedition of the Izvestia newspaper ... After work, I fled to the institute or the Polytechnic - to listen Lunacharsky or poets. Then for the first time I saw and heard Mayakovsky, Aseev, Pasternak, Selvinsky, Antokolsky and etc." Blaginina recalled.

There was a lot of work, life was hard, inspiration was great. But nevertheless, after graduating from the institute “on a creative and editorial and publishing basis” in 1925 (VLHI would cease to exist in the same year), Blaginina moved away from literature. She worked at the University of Radio Broadcasting, then at the All-Union Radio Committee, poetry somehow faded into the background. She returned to her already in a new, unexpected even for herself status. Playing with her friend's little daughter, in her passion Elena began to improvise impromptu after impromptu. And it turned out that children's, simple and light poetry is the direction where her speech sounds most natural. Blaginina, with her keen powers of observation, tenderness, thirst and ability to see the miracle in simple things, turned out to be an ideal children's poet. She went to the Murzilka magazine, and a little later became an editor there. Soon she was already well known in the leading publishing houses for children, including the famous Detgiz. Her poems were greeted with a bang, the children needed this language, this look, upbringing without didactics, understanding and sympathy. Books were published, she was admitted to the Writers' Union, she "fell into the cage" - which means business trips, new publications, all the benefits that rely on "engineers human souls”- in the Soviet country, recognized writers and poets were considered the elite and were fed accordingly. And at the same time, Blaginina remained herself.

Evgenia Taratuta, writer and literary critic, worked in the library, where the authors of Murzilka came to meet with young readers, recalls:“We immediately became friends. I liked her pure speech with simple warm words that suddenly became high poetry. She knew how to play with words merrily, like her favorite toys, revealing their inner meaning, their mysterious sound. She knew Russian poetry very well - Pushkin, Lermontov, Tyutchev, Nekrasov, Fet. I loved Block very much. Once she told me that Blok simply bewitched her, and his poems taught her to see better, hear better.

In the house of Blaginina, in the basement communal apartment on the Kuznetsk bridge, friends gathered, read poetry, poetry was the hostess there. And in the heart of Elena Alexandrovna there was great grief. Her husband, poet Egor Obolduev, was arrested in 1933 on charges of anti-Soviet propaganda, and in 1934 he was sentenced to 3 years and exiled to Karelia, he worked at the White Sea Canal. In total, the link dragged on for five years. Anti-Soviet propaganda turned out to be Tsvetaeva's poems, which Obolduev willingly read at his famous "Obolduev gatherings", and his own lines like "Citizens and citizens! The car goes to Lubyanka". Young and cheerful, friends gathered in Obolduev's house, fooled around, read poems, their own and favorite poets. Someone brought it. played and noble origin, and general habit. Georgy Nikolayevich (he, however, preferred to be called Yegor) Obolduev belonged to an old noble family and for Moscow of the 30s was defiantly, too "outdated" and therefore untimely. A wonderful musician, wit, clever, like Blaginina, he was a pupil of the VLHI, and there they met.

"In his manner - wrote about Blaginin's husband, - there was always something old-fashioned and captivating. Curling gracefully (and a little comically), he kissed the hands of women and, continuously chattering hilarious nonsense, in which, to my memory, no one has ever surpassed him, he immediately became the center of attention ... sparkling champagne of a real wit, word-creator and poet.

Connoisseurs of poetry put Obolduev's work no lower than Pasternak's poems. By the manner of writing, he was close to the Constructivists and the Oberiuts - but, as always, he went his own way, not adjoining anyone. By the time of the arrest, Elena Alexandrovna and Yegor Nikolaevich had just got married (for Obolduev, this was the second marriage).

"FROM… Nina Falaleevna Oboldueva (the first wife of the poet. - M.B.) We were, are and will be on good terms. She, like me, had a great honor and joy to live next to a person about whom one cannot say that he is good, because he is brilliant, as it is impossible to say in the generally accepted sense of the word - decent, because he is peculiar and too complicated, and it cannot be said that he is capable, for he is more than talented. And he is universal. And eternal."

Who could have known that exile to Karelia might turn out to be the lesser evil? In 1937, someone like Obolduev would not have been spared, but he survived. After the exile, he was forbidden to return to the big cities, he lived near Moscow, and then the war began - and he was mobilized. As a knowledgeable German, he was sent to intelligence. Subsequently, Obolduev served in an anti-tank battalion, was seriously shell-shocked, crippled his hand - and there was no more talk of playing the piano. He died from the effects of concussion in 1954. After the war, he was “excused”, allowed to live in Moscow, but for the most part the couple lived in the village. Golitsino, in the country. It was easier and more comfortable there. During his lifetime, Yegor Obolduev published only one of his poems (in 1929 in Novy Mir). But Blaginina, his wife, friend and like-minded person, preserved his archive and did everything to make Obolduev's collection see the light: she, like no one else, understood the scale of his talent - not as a faithful wife, but as a poet. 25 years after the death of the poet, his poems were published in Germany, thanks to the work of G. Aigi, who considered Obolduev his teacher.

In 1937, when Detgiz was smashed, friends were sent to prison and exiled, Blaginina could not succumb to the temptation and join the ranks of "condemning and indignant." She already knew only too well what accusations of espionage and sabotage cost. At a terrible meeting in Detgiz, when colleagues finished off the arrested T. Gabbe, L. Chukovskaya and A. Lyubarskaya, competing, who will douse them with mud more, Blaginina was silent. But she did not interrupt the support of her friends, sending money, books and the most tender, supportive letters to her friend, the editor of Detgiz Heinrich Eichler thrown in Karlag, visiting the daughter of Yevgenia Taratuta, getting tickets for government Christmas trees to the suddenly orphaned children of his repressed friends and colleagues, giving them books, supporting them and not leaving them. In those days it was a lot. As in her own childhood, her father, who received God knows what kind of salary, arranged “candy feasts” for the Yakovlev children, so the daughter of Alexander Blaginin gathered children for the Christmas tree at her house on Kuznetsky for every Christmas season - with poems and gifts. This holiday was called "Tangerine Crusts" - every child was sure to get tangerines as a gift, and tangerine jam was served with tea, according to legend, cooked from tangerine peels left over from last year's holiday. These children, grown up and aged, remembered "Tangerine Crusts" at Aunt Lena's as the most desired winter holiday.

During the war, when the Germans were almost approaching Moscow, Blaginina, as a member of the joint venture, was evacuated to Krasnoufimsk. Once Chukovsky asked her:

— And what did you do in this Krasnoufimsk?

- With a sad noise, she was naked at the local market, Korney Ivanovich ...

“He pushed the device away, jumped up, ran up to me, grabbed me by the elbows, lifted him up, put him back in his place, and he laughed and burst into laughter:

- Well done, - shouts, - clever! I love these things of yours. They must be collected, it is impossible for them to disappear. Let's start now! Let's remember!"

During the war years, writers and poets had to work, like the whole country. Military poems and cycles of Blaginina were necessary for children. They carried hope. And in Blaginina's house, when she returned to Moscow, they constantly spent the night, interrupted, friends and acquaintances stayed - she was glad to everyone.

If you do not look closely at the details, then the life of Elena Alexandrovna has developed quite well. Although all the bitter waters of the history of Russia in the 20th century did not pass her by, the repressions did not touch her personally. On the contrary, Blaginina was repeatedly awarded (medals “For Valiant Labor during the Second World War” and “For Valiant Labor”, two Orders of the Badge of Honor), she became a living classic in the field of children's literature, her translations (in fact, a literary processing of the interlinear) L. Kvitko, T. Shevchenko, Y. Tuvima, N. Zabela, E. Fireblossom were highly appreciated - and Lev Kvitko (a wonderful Jewish poet, later shot for treason and rehabilitated after 3 years) became her friend. The position of Elena Blaginina in literature and near-literary circles also served as a cover for Yegor Nikolaevich Obolduev - he was engaged in translations, like his wife, and the state left him, a front-line soldier and a former convict, in peace, graciously turning a blind eye to "an unenthusiastic way of thinking." She was given friendship by the great poets of that time - for example, Maria Petrovykh, she was respected as a person and as a poet, even by such demanding and demanding critics as Marshak and Chukovsky, but at the same time, the sphere of application of Blaginina's forces was quite clearly defined: children's poetry. It's true, there she was magnificent and inimitable. But did it always suit her? One day she broke out.