White is spinning and on the ground. Peasant poetry

landscape in early work Bunin is not just sketches of an artist who deeply feels the beauty of his native fields and forests, seeking to recreate the panorama of the places where his hero lives and works. The landscape not only sets off and emphasizes the feelings of the hero. Nature in Bunin's early stories explains a person, forms his aesthetic feelings. That is why the writer seeks to capture all its shades.

For Blok, everything is not easy even in these first months of the revolution. There are things that confuse him: he cannot ignore them and remain indifferent. In Ukraine, Russian soldiers fraternize with the Germans, but to the north, on the Riga front, the Germans are advancing rapidly. There is not enough bread, they shoot at night, a cannon rumbles in the distance.

The theme of love was heard at the top of its voice in the last, fifth book of Arseniev's Life. On the fifth book ("Lika") Bunin worked intermittently from 1933 to 1939. At first, Bunin separated "Lika" from the first four books. This, in particular, is evidenced by the first complete release of the novel in 1939 by the Petropolis publishing house. On the cover of the book was written: “Bunin. "The Life of Arseniev". The novel "Lika".

Ivan Zakharovich Surikov (March 25, 1841) - April 24, 1880) - Russian self-taught poet, representative of the "peasant" direction in Russian literature. Author of the textbook poem "Childhood". Another of his poems, "In the steppe", in folk processing became the most popular song "Steppe and steppe all around." P. I. Tchaikovsky wrote the romance “Whether I was in the field or there was grass” on his poems.

Winter

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field turned white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.

For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.

To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.

He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid
Evil frost, angry.

In Russian literature of the 19th-20th centuries, there is such a direction as peasant poetry, prominent representatives which are Sergei Yesenin and Nikolai Nekrasov. Ivan Surikov, whose name is undeservedly forgotten today, can be attributed to the number of authors who sang of rural life in their works. The creative heritage of this poet, who was born into the family of a serf, is small, but many of his works are still well known to readers, as they are distinguished by their simplicity of style, special melody and amazing brightness of images.

Among them, it is worth noting the poem "Winter", written in 1880, shortly before the death of Surikov, who died in poverty, but until the very last moment he did not lose the ability to admire the world around him and found it perfect even despite the fact that fate did not show this author special favor. Nevertheless, the poet never complained about life and was convinced that he had a lucky lot - to be a poet.

The poem "Winter" belongs to the category of landscape lyrics, and its first lines are dedicated to snowfall, which covers the earth with a white and fluffy blanket, transforming the world, making it cleaner and brighter. These lines exude calmness and peace, as well as the anticipation of the holiday, which will surely come already, if only because winter comes into its legal rights. The poet describes her arrival very simply and succinctly - "here the frosts came - and winter has come." However, this simple phrase contains the philosophical wisdom of being, the meaning of which boils down to the fact that we all obey the laws of nature. Therefore, any changes in the surrounding world should be accepted with joy and enjoy every moment of life, which is filled with amazing charm for those who know how to appreciate simple human joys.

Describing the life of the peasants, the poet notes that on a sunny and frosty winter day, they still have enough worries. It is necessary to harness the sleigh and go for firewood, without which it is impossible to survive the cold. At the same time, the villager is preparing for the winter very thoroughly and in advance, he has long covered the hut with straw outside to protect his home from the cold. But the children in the snowy winter have one expanse, and in almost every village "children build snow mountains."

Simple rural life is described in this work with restraint and unpretentiousness. The main thing for the peasants is to take care of their home, stock up on firewood and food, hay for livestock and warm clothes. This time of the year is quite calm for the villagers, and they have time to pay attention to their meager household, to prepare for the upcoming sowing season, on which the well-being of the whole family depends. However, winter, even for a rural resident, is not without romance. And Ivan Surikov, who spent most of his life in the countryside, never ceases to be amazed at the beauty of the “dark forest”, which in one night acquired a luxurious and lush hat of snow, white fields and short days, which are replaced by long winter evenings filled with a special charm. It is so simple and artless to write about complex things only for a truly gifted person who knows how to appreciate beauty and selflessly loves his native nature, appreciates peasant life and has a very subtle poetic nature. Therefore, it is not surprising that Ivan Surikov is considered one of the most striking and original poets of the Russian village, who was able to breathe romance into the usual way of rural life and present it in such a way that every reader would like to slide down a high snowy mountain on the outskirts of the village or wander through the sleeping forest , listening to the creak of snowdrifts and inhaling the frosty tart air.

We offer you beautiful winter poems by Ivan Surikov. Each of us from childhood knows well poems by Ivan Surikov about winter while others read them to their children and grandchildren. These works are included in school curriculum for different classes.
Short Ivan Surikov help not only to develop speech and memory, but also to get acquainted with the beautiful season of winter.

Verse by Zim Surikov

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field turned white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.

For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.

To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.

He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid

Evil frost, angry.

Poem Childhood I. Surikov

Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;

Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - clap!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.

All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh!

But meanwhile the village
The sun has long
The storm has risen
The sky is dark.

You will overwhelm all
Don't bend your hands
And home quietly
You wander reluctantly.

shabby fur coat
Throw off your shoulders;
Get on the stove
To the grey-haired grandmother.

And you sit, not a word ...
Quiet all around;
Just hear - howls
Blizzard outside the window.

In the corner, bent over
Grandfather weaves bast shoes;
Mother at the spinning wheel
Silently flax spins.

The hut illuminates
The light of the light;
Winter evening lasts
Lasts endlessly...

And I'll start with my grandmother
Tales I ask;
And my grandmother will start
Tales to say:

Like Ivan Tsarevich
I caught a fire bird;
as his bride
Grey Wolf got.

I listen to a fairy tale
The heart is dying;
And in the pipe angrily
The evil wind sings.

I'll stick with the old lady.
Silent speech murmurs
And my eyes are tight
Sweet Dreams adjoins.

And in my dreams I dream
Weird edges.
And Ivan Tsarevich -
It's like me.

Here in front of me
A wonderful garden blooms;
In that garden there is a big
The tree is growing.

golden cage
Hanging on a branch;
There is a bird in this cage
The heat is on fire.

Jumping in that cage
Sings merrily;
Bright, wonderful light
The garden is all over.

So I crept up on her
And for the cage - grab!
And wanted out of the garden
Run with a bird.

But it was not there!
There was a noise, a ringing;
The guards ran
In the garden from all sides.

My hands were twisted
And lead me...
And trembling with fear
I wake up.

Already in the hut, in the window,
The sun looks;
Before the icon of a grandmother
Pray, it's worth it.

You flowed merrily
Baby years!
You were not darkened
Grief and trouble.

Poems about Surikov's winter are perfect for schoolchildren in grades 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 and for children 3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 years old.

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little -
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

Laborer-peasant
Pulled out the sled
snowy mountains
The kids are building.

For a long time the peasant
Waiting for winter and cold
And a straw hut
He hid outside.

To the wind in the hut
Didn't get through the cracks
Wouldn't blow snow
Blizzards and blizzards.

He is now calm
All around is covered
And he's not afraid
Evil frost, angry.

Analysis of the poem "Winter" by Surikov

In the work of Ivan Zakharovich Surikov "Winter" the arrival of the snowy season in the world is lyrically and sincerely described. The lines of this poem contain both a description of the angry frost, and, in contrast, the soft comfort of this season.

But only at first glance this work describes only winter, in fact it contains reflections on the meaning of life - after all, it is completely subordinate to nature, and a description of peasant everyday life, and a feeling of complete calm and harmony with the outside world.

The verse was written in 1880 in the genre of landscape lyrics. The poem has eight stanzas, each containing four lines. It is written in iambic trimeter (two-syllable meter), it has cross-rhyme, female rhyme (stress on the penultimate syllable).

There are many means in the work. artistic expressiveness: epithets ("evil", "fluffy", "angry"), personifications ("frosts came", "the forest fell asleep"), comparisons - "the field turned white, then a veil, everything covered it."

The line “frosts have come - and winter has come” contains the idea that our whole life is subject to the laws of nature, therefore, people should accept any changes in it with gratitude and great pleasure from every, even insignificant, moment. After all, then every moment of our life will be filled with charm and joy.

“For a long time the peasant has been waiting for winter and cold, And he covered the hut with straw from the outside.” When the poet writes about the life of a peasant, he notes that even on such a calm day he still has a lot of worries - you need to pull out and harness the sleigh to go for firewood, prepare the hut for the cold, covering it with straw from the outside, and keep track of the children who keep building snowy mountains.

For most of his life, the author himself, Ivan Surikov, lived in the countryside, and each arrival of winter was fascinated by how the dark forest in just one night was completely covered with a snow cap and, as if in fact, fell asleep for the whole winter, as in the morning the whole field it was white from the night snowfall, when suddenly the day became shorter, and the sun was less and less. That is why he so easily conveyed to the reader a sense of village life.

About such difficult things to understand such in simple terms could write only a truly talented person, which was Ivan Zakharovich. He is rightfully considered one of the brightest, but at the same time original poets of Russian villages. It was he who was able to add a share of romance to the description of rural everyday life, so much so that most readers had a desire to take a walk in the winter sleeping forest, wander through a snow-covered field, listening to the crunch underfoot, build a snow mountain, enjoying the clean refreshing air.

Surikov's poems about winter are so familiar to us that it seems we have always known them. Just born with them. " Here is my village. Here is my home. Here I am rolling in a sledge on a steep mountain ...". These poems are associated with our Motherland. And although many of us were born and raised in major cities, it seems that these lines are close to everyone. Surikov's poems about winter are extremely accurate and sincere.

From the poem "Childhood"

Here is my village;
Here is my home;
Here I am on a sled
Uphill steep;

Here the sled rolled up
And I'm on my side - bang!
head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.

And boy friends
Standing over me
merrily laugh
Over my trouble.

All face and hands
Made me snow...
I'm in a snowdrift grief,
And the guys laugh!

The poet Ivan Zakharovich Surikov (1841-1880) was born into a family of quitrent serfs. His small homeland- the village of Novoselovo, Yaroslavl province. Ivan Zakharovich did not have a chance to study, but he soon became addicted to reading and began to compose poetry.

From the poem "Winter"

White snow, fluffy
Spinning in the air
And the earth is quiet
Falling, laying down.

And in the morning with snow
The field is white
Like a veil
All dressed him up.

Dark forest with a hat
Covered up wonderful
And fell asleep under her
Strong, unshakable...

God's days are short
The sun shines a little -
Here come the frosts -
And winter has come.

At a certain stage, the Surikovs moved to permanent place residence in Moscow. The future poet did not shy away from any work: he worked in a shop, was a bookbinder, compositor. But it was not possible to get out of poverty. Over time, the name of the self-taught poet Surikov became widely known. He published books and appeared in magazines.

From the poem "Frost"

A pale moon looks from the sky,
Like a steel sickle;
Crackling frost in the village
He walks big.

Over fences, over trees
Hangs up an outfit;
Where it goes, diamonds in the snow
They're on fire.

Hat on the side, wide open
Fur coat on the shoulders;
Frost shines like silver
On his curls.