Comic questions for February 23 for boys. Board game "Alcoholometer"

Great about verses:

Poetry is like painting: one work will captivate you more if you look at it closely, and another if you move further away.

Little cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of unoiled wheels.

The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which has broken.

Marina Tsvetaeva

Of all the arts, poetry is most tempted to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen glitter.

Humboldt W.

Poems succeed if they are created with spiritual clarity.

The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.

If only you knew from what rubbish Poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion near a fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.

A. A. Akhmatova

Poetry is not in verses alone: ​​it is spilled everywhere, it is around us. Take a look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life breathe from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.

I. S. Turgenev

For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.

G. Lichtenberg

A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing inside us. Telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He is a wizard. Understanding him, we become poets like him.

Where graceful verses flow, there is no place for vainglory.

Murasaki Shikibu

I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin

- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! the visitor asked pleadingly.
I promise and I swear! - solemnly said Ivan ...

Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "The Master and Margarita"

We all write poetry; poets differ from the rest only in that they write them with words.

John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"

Every poem is a veil stretched out on the points of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.

Alexander Alexandrovich Blok

The poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, for each poetic work of those times, the whole Universe is certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for someone who inadvertently wakes dormant lines.

Max Fry. "The Talking Dead"

To one of my clumsy hippos-poems, I attached such a heavenly tail: ...

Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea and not a plague!

Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore drive away critics. They are but miserable drinkers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let the verses seem to him an absurd lowing, a chaotic jumble of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from tedious reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.

Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"

Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing but pure poetry that has rejected the word.

1019

The name of the poetess Irina Tokmakova is well known in children's literature. She began writing in the 1950s. A philologist and translator by profession, Tokmakova chose children's literature not by chance. Irina's childhood was military, her mother worked in an orphanage. According to the memoirs of the poetess, at home all the conversations were about children: who is sick, who is recovering, who is gifted, who is athletic. This was the choice of the children's direction in literature.

Tokmakova's first book was in the full sense of the family. She translated for little son Scottish songs, my husband drew illustrations. So the book "Little Wily Winky" appeared. In translations, the writer uses the lessons of Marshak, a pillar of children's literature, and focuses not on the letter, but on the level of children's perception.

"An Evening Tale" is an instructive story for children who are difficult to put to bed in the evenings. The tale is written in the major rhythm that corresponds to the movements of the child. The poem sounds like the reader is making up a story as they go along.

Here Tokmakova skillfully uses the intonation and emotional mood peculiar only to her poems. The narration is in the first person, it is interesting to observe how the intonation changes throughout the poem. In the first lines we see a tired man who "wandered in the forest all day long." The situation is described in short, simple sentences. And we feel that night is falling on the earth, everyone is getting ready to sleep. Everything is quiet, only the hooting of an owl is heard. And here appears a fabulous intonation, fabulous images. Owls, it turns out, can talk and told the author a story about a boy who knows how to do everything, very smart, capable, only he can’t go to bed in the evenings and “roar gets you up until the morning.” The situation is common, probably, many parents are faced with the fact that the baby does not want to go to bed. What awaits the little brawler, the hero of Tokmakova? The owls decided to take him to their place and with the help of magic grass turn him into an owlet.

The author recognizes his neighbor Zhenya in the story of the owls and hurries to him to warn him about the owl's plan. The rhythm and intonation of the poem changes. Together with the author, we are running, we are worried about Zhenya. And then bad luck, the author got lost, he asks the woodpecker to help, he woke up the mouse, called the fireflies. Whole animal world came to the rescue, and the author, like an arrow, a runner, a helicopter, a jet plane rushed to Zhenya and managed to do it before the owls. He told the neighbor boy what he heard in the forest, and Zhenya realized that the jokes were over.

And again, with a calm homely intonation, Tokmakova finishes the story of a naughty boy, the tension disappears, everything is fine with Zhenya. But owls do not sleep, they guard naughty guys.

The writer tells this story about Zhenya in the expectation that the children, having heard her, will do the same as Zhenya, and will no longer arrange ramblings in the evenings. Images of a sympathetic neighbor and his forest helpers will serve as an example of humanity and will contribute to moral education. In addition, the book carries not only instructive information, but also introduces kids to forest dwellers.

The book was made in good quality on coated sheets. The colorful illustrations by Nina Noskovich are age-appropriate and not overloaded with details. Realistic drawings have a hint of fabulousness, owls are endowed with character, the artist gave them a conspiratorial, cunning look so as not to scare the little reader. Here we see a mysterious forest, for the image of which shades of purple are used, a kind woodpecker, a responsive mouse.

Thanks to the duet of Tokmakova and Noskovich, this book turned out to be interesting, informative and exciting. And special thanks to the Rech publishing house for publishing Tokmakova’s work in the Mom’s Favorite Book series. Such authors should not be forgotten.

Today, March 3, is the birthday of the children's poet and prose writer Irina Tokmakova, 83 years old - this is not a joke to you! :)
There are many owls in her poems. But today I will post only this.

I spent the whole day wandering in the forest.
I look - it's already evening on the nose.
There is no more sun in the sky
Only a red mark remained.
The fir trees fell silent, the oak fell asleep.
In the darkness, the hazel tree sank.
Sleepy pine fell silent.
And there was silence.
And the crossbill is silent, and the thrush is silent,
And the woodpecker no longer knocks.
Suddenly I hear - an owl hooted,
So much so that the foliage shuddered:
– Whoo! Time is wasted,
Dawn faded in the sky.
Let's drag the screamer
Until the moon came out. -
The other grumbled in response:
- I haven't finished my lunch. -
And again the first: - Wow!
You are always talking nonsense.
We won't make it:
After all, they can lock the doors.
Throw lunch, we're flying now.
Let's take it - and the tale is over.

I parted the branches with my shoulder
And he shouted: - Owls, what are you talking about?

After cleaning the beak, one of them
I answered for two:
There is a strange boy in the world.
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Battleship can draw
And angry dogs train.
But they will only say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He roar starts until the morning:

"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still can't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't wish
I can not,
Better for owls
I'll run away..."
We reasoned: so and so,
Since this little weirdo
Doesn't want to sleep at night
He needs to become an owl.
We'll take the boy to the hollow,
Let's say five terrible words,
Let's give magic grass
And turn him into an owl.-
Here the owls rose from the branches
And they were carried away into the darkness of the night.

I knew where they were going
Who do they want to bewitch?
After all, this is Zhenya, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he's all night long
Screams, rages and roars:

"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still can't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't wish
I can not,
Better for owls
I'll run away..."

How to get ahead of these owls?
How can I warn Zhenya?
No one can help me
It's completely dark, it's night.
The mist has risen,
A star lit up in the sky...

I rushed to wake the woodpecker:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend got into trouble,
And I can't find a way...

The woodpecker thought, was silent
And shook his head:
- I'm not going to put my mind to it.
I'm going to wake up the mouse. -
Now a mouse has come running
And she squeaked: - Why are you sad?
After all, my friend is an old mole
Dug a straight underground passage.
You can go straight
You won't go astray there. -
And despite the darkness
I ran to the mole.
But here again trouble awaited:
The move was wide with a mole!
Well, how do I go on the road,
When can't I fit in it?
You'll have to wander on top
But how to find a path in the darkness?
Glasses won't help me...
But the woodpecker called out: “Fireflies!” -
And the fireflies came
Such good bugs
And immediately the darkness receded,
And I ran like an arrow
Like a runner
like a helicopter
Like a jet!

Here I am at home. Owls before!
Familiar Zhenkin hear the roar:

"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still can't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't wish
I can not,
Better for owls
I'll run away..."

I shouted: - Zhenya, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls are flying here!
Here you made a mess! -
And I told him everything.
And Zhenya immediately fell silent,
As if he had never screamed in his life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise rams.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He sleeps until morning.
And owls don't sleep at night
Capricious guys are guarded.

illustrations by Lev Tokmakov.

My husband still remembers how his mother read this fairy tale to him))))

From a child psychologist:

At one time my son did not want to go to bed. What I just did not invent, but all to no avail. In the evening, it's time to sleep at our house scandal and tears. The son screams I don’t want to, I won’t, and so on. This fairy tale helped me then, only I had to learn it by heart. And when it came time to go to bed, my son started again, which was another 10 minutes, then tears, then I said: "I have one very true story that my mother told me as a child, do you want to tell me?" And she told me ... And after a couple of days, he himself asked me to tell him about owls and went to bed peacefully. As soon as I said that it was time to rest and that it was already dark, which means the owls woke up ... Try it, maybe it will help you.
Irina Tokmakova

Evening tale

I spent the whole day wandering in the forest.
I look - the evening is on the nose,
There is no more sun in the sky
Only a red mark remained.
The firs fell silent. Oak fell asleep.
In the darkness, the hazel tree sank.
Sleepy pine fell silent.
And there was silence:
And the crossbill is silent, and the thrush is silent.
And the woodpecker no longer knocks.
Suddenly I hear - an owl hooted,
So much so that the foliage shuddered:

Wow! Time is wasted,
Dawn faded in the sky.
Let's drag the screamer
Until the moon came out.
The other grunted in response.
- I didn't finish my lunch.

And again the first: - Wow!
You are always talking nonsense!
We won't make it:
After all, they can lock the doors.
Drop lunch, let's fly now
Let's take it - and the tale is over.
I parted the branches with my shoulder
And he shouted: - Owls, what are you talking about?
After cleaning the beak, one of them
I answered for two:
- There is a strange boy in the world
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Battleship can draw
And train evil dogs.
But they will only say: "It's time to sleep."
He roar starts until the morning:
- Don't put out the fire
Don't ask me
Still I won't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't wish
I can not,
Better to run away to the owls...
We reasoned: so and so,
Since this little weirdo
Doesn't want to sleep at night
He needs to become an owl.
We'll bring the boy into the hollow,
Let's say five terrible words,
Let's give magic grass
And turn him into an owl.
Here the owls rose from their place
And they were carried away into the darkness of the night.
I knew where they were going
Who do they want to bewitch?
After all, this is Zhenya, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he's all night long
Screams, rages and roars:
- Do not extinguish
fire,
don't ask
Me,
Doesn't matter
I won't sleep
Whole bed
I'll turn over
I don't wish
I can not,
Better for owls
I'll run away...
How to get ahead of these owls?
How can I warn Zhenya?
No one can help me
It's completely dark, it's night.
The mist has risen,
A star lit up in the sky...
I rushed to wake the woodpecker:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend is in trouble
And I can't find a way...
The woodpecker thought, was silent
And shook his head:
- I won't put my mind to it
I'm going to wake up the mouse.
Now a mouse has come running
And squeaked: - Why are you sad?
After all, my friend is an old mole
Dug a straight underground passage.
You can go straight
You won't go astray there.
And despite the darkness
I ran to the mole.

But here again trouble awaited:
The move was wide with a mole!
Well, how do I go on the road,
When can't I fit in it?
You'll have to climb on top.
But how to find a path in the darkness?
Glasses won't help me...
But the woodpecker shouted: - Fireflies!
And the fireflies came
Such good bugs.
And immediately the darkness receded,
And I ran like an arrow
Like a runner
Like a helicopter
Like a jet!

Here I am at home. Owls before!
Ordinary Zhenkin hear the roar
- Do not extinguish
fire,
don't ask
Me,
Doesn't matter
I won't sleep
Whole bed
I'll turn over
I don't wish
I can not,
Better for owls
I'll run away...
I shouted: - Zhenya, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls are flying here!
Here you made a mess!
And I told him everything.
And Zhenya immediately fell silent,
As if he had never screamed in his life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise rams.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep,"
He sleeps until morning.
And owls don't sleep at night.

Someone may say that after such a fairy tale, the child will be even more afraid, but this is not so. My owl was not afraid, although not the most courageous boy either. After reading it, I told him that owls live in the forest, but if you scream and make a lot of noise, cry in your throat, then they can hear and fly in. The son then asked, and that they would take me away? I answered, of course not, my mother will not give it back, but they will fly in and look out the window, who is screaming so much? He calmed down and we did not become afraid of owls, but when he again began to buzz about sleep, I told him: "What are you calling owls for?" And after that, he sort of calmed down.

Evening tale.
1...
I've been wandering in the woods all day
I look - it's already evening on the nose.
There is no more sun in the sky
All that's left is a red mark
The fir trees fell silent, the oak fell asleep.
In the darkness, the hazel tree drowned.
Sleepy pine subsided
And there was silence:
And the crossbill is silent, and the thrush is silent,
And the woodpecker no longer knocks.
Suddenly I hear - an owl hooted,
So much so that the foliage trembled:
– Whoo! Time is wasted,
Dawn faded in the sky,
Let's drag the screamer
Until the moon came out. -
The second grunted in response:
- I haven't finished my lunch. -
And again the first: - Wow!
You are always talking nonsense.
We won't be able to fly
After all, they can lock the doors.
Drop lunch, let's fly now
Let's take it and the story is over.
I parted the branches with my shoulder
And he shouted: -Owls, what are you talking about?
2...
After cleaning the beak, one of them
I answered for two:
There is a strange boy in the world.
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Battleship can draw
And train evil dogs.
But they will only say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He roar starts until the morning:
"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still won't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't want, I can't
I'd better run away to the owls ... "
We reasoned: so and so,
Since this little weirdo
Doesn't want to sleep at night
He needs to become an owl.
We'll bring the boy into the hollow,
Let's say five terrible words,
Let's give magic grass
And turn him into an owl. -
Here the owls rose from the branches
And they were carried away into the darkness of the night.
I knew where they were going
Who do they want to bewitch?
After all, this is Zhenya, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he's all night long
Screams, rages and roars:
"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still won't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't want, I can't
I'd better run away to the owls ... "
How to get ahead of these owls?
How can I warn Zhenya?
No one can help me
It's completely dark, it's night.
The mist has risen,
A star lit up in the sky...
3...
I rushed to wake the woodpecker:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend is in trouble
And I can't find the way...
The woodpecker thought, was silent
And shook his head:
- I won't put my mind to it
I'm going to wake up the mouse. -
Now a mouse has come running
And she squeaked: “What are you sad about?
After all, my friend is an old mole
Dug a straight underground passage.
You can go straight
You won't go astray there. -
And despite the darkness
I ran to the mole.
But here I was in trouble:
The move was wide with a mole!
Well, how do I go on the road,
When will I not fit in it?
You have to climb on top
But how to find a path in the darkness?
Glasses won't help me...
But the woodpecker called out: “Fireflies!” -
And the fireflies came
Such good bugs
And immediately the darkness receded,
And I ran like an arrow
Like a speedboat, like a helicopter,
Like a jet!
4...
Here I am at home. Owls before!
Ordinary Zhenkin hear the roar:
"Don't put out the fire,
Don't ask me
I still won't sleep
Turn the whole bed
I don't want, I can't
I'd better run away to the owls ... "
I shouted: - Zhenya, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls are flying here!
Here you made a mess! -
And I told him everything.
And Zhenya immediately fell silent,
As if he had never screamed in his life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise rams.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep!"
He sleeps until morning.
And owls don't sleep at night
Capricious guys are guarded.