Comic questions on February 23 for boys. Single game "Alcoholometer"

Great about verses:

Poetry is like painting: a different work will be captivated by you more if you will consider it near, and otherwise - if you leave away.

Small chemmered poems annoy nerves more than the creaking of non-scam wheels.

The most valuable in life and in verses is something that has broken.

Marina Tsvetaeva

Among all the arts, poetry is more than others being tempted to replace their own peculiar beauty stolen sparkles.

Humboldt V.

Poems succeed, if created with sincere clarity.

Writing poems closer to worship, what is usually believed.

When you know, the poems grow out of what kind of sera, without keeping shame ... as a dandelion at the fence, like burdocks and a swan.

A. A. Akhmatova

Not in some poetry poetry: she is spilled everywhere, she is around us. Take a look at these trees, on this sky - everywhere blows beauty and life, and where beauty and life, there is poetry.

I. S. Turgenev

Many people have an essay of poems - this is a disease of the growth of the mind.

Lichtenberg

Lovely verse is similar to a bow conducted by sound fibers of our being. Nothing - our thoughts makes the poet sing inside us. I tell us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our soul our love and our grief. He is a cockpit. Understanding him, we become poets like him.

There, where graceful poems are poured, there is no place to be favored.

Murassaki Sikiba

I appeal to the Russian renovation. I think that in time we turn to white verse. Rhymes in Russian too little. One causes another. The flaper inevitably drags the stone. Because of the feeling, art looks. Who is not bored with love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin.

- ... good your poems, tell me yourself?
- Monstrous! - Suddenly, boldly and frankly said Ivan.
- Do not write anymore! - I asked the newly imploringly.
- I promise and swear! - solemnly uttered Ivan ...

Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "Master and Margarita"

We all write poems; Poets differ from the rest only by what they write them in words.

John Falez. "Lover of French Lieutenant"

Any poem is a bedspread, stretched at the episodes of several words. These words will glow as stars, because of them there is a poem.

Alexander Alexandrovich Blok.

The poets of antiquity Unlike modern rarely created more dozens of poems during their long life. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, for each poetic product of those times, the whole universe, filled with miracles, is often dangerous for the one who carelessly wake the rear-arms lines.

Max Fry. "Cattle Dead"

One of his clumsy hippopots-poems, I attached such a paradise tail: ...

Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not worry, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not the 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 critics. They are only miserable in poetry pebbles. What can the critic about the depths of your soul? Do not let his vulgar feeling handles there. Let the poems seem to him with a ridiculous muming, chaotic sticks of words. For us, this is the song of freedom from a tedious reason, a nice song, sounding on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.

Boris Cryger. "Thousand Lives"

Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And there are nothing more tears, as a clean poetry that rejected the word.

1019

The name of the poetess Irina Tokmakova is quite famous in children's literature. It began to write in the 50s of the last century. By profession a philologist, translator, Tokmakova chose children's literature not by chance. The childhood of Irina was a military man, mother worked in an orphan dispenser. According to the memories of poetess, at home all the conversations were about children: who is sick, who recover who is a gifted, who is sporty. This was the choice of children's direction in the literature.

The first book in Tokmakova was in the full sense of family. She translated for a little son Scottish songs, husband drew illustration. So the book "Baby Vili Vinki appeared. In translations, the writer uses Marshak's lessons, a pillar of children's literature, and is not focused on the letter, and at the level of children's perception.

The "Evening Tale" is an instructive story for the guys, which in the evenings are difficult to put in bed. The fairy tale is written in the major rhythm, which corresponds to the movements of the child. The poem sounds as if the reader comes up with a story on the go.

Tokmakova here skillfully uses intrusion intrinsic, emotional mood. The narration is conducted from the first person, it is interesting to observe how intonation changes throughout the poem. In the first lines we see the tired man who "all day wandered in the forest." The situation is described by short, simple sentences. And we feel that night falls on the ground, everyone is preparing to sleep. Everything was amerated, only the Wuwa Owl is heard. And here appears fabulous intonation, fabulous images. Owls, it turns out, they know how to talk and told the author of the story about the boy, who herself knows how to do, very clever, capable, only here can not sleep in the evenings and "roar will turn to the morning." The situation is ordinary, probably, many parents faced the fact that the baby does not want to go to bed. What awaits Little Buyan, Tokmakova Hero? Owls decided to pick it up to themselves and with the help of magic grass to turn to the Council.

The author finds out in the story of his neighbor Zhenka and hurry to him to prevent the Sovic Plan. Changes rhythm, intonation of poem. We, together with the author, run, worry for Zhenka. And then, not enough, the author got lost, he asks to help Dyatla, he woke up his mouse, called fireflies. The whole animal world came to the rescue, and the author as if an arrow, a helicopter, helicopter, jet was rushed to Zhenya and managed before owls. He told the neighboring boy what heard in the forest, and Zhenka realized that the jokes were over.

And again, with a calm home intonation, Tokmakova finishes the story of a naughty boy, the tension disappears, all is well in Zhenka. But owls do not sleep, they will erase naughty guys.

The writer tells this story about Zhenka based on the fact that the children, having heard her, will come in the same way as Zhenka, and will no longer be arranged in the evenings of the Taram. Images of a responsive neighbor and his forest assistants 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 with forests.

The book is made in good quality on coated sheets. Colorful illustrations of Nina Noskovich correspond to age and are not overloaded with details. Realistic drawings have a tint of fabulousness, owls are endowed with character, the artist gave them a conspiratorial, cunning look, so as not to scare a small reader. Here we see a mysterious forest, for the image of which used shades of violet, goodwildwood, a responsive mouse.

Thanks to the duet Tokmakova and Noskovich, this book turned out to be interesting, cognitive and exciting. And some thanks to the publishing house "Speech" for the exit in the series "Mine Favorite Book" of the work of Tokmakova. Such authors should not be forgotten.

Today, March 3, the birthday of the children's poet and Prosaika Irina Tokmakova, 83 years old - this is not a joke! :)
Owls in her verses in a lot. But today Icy is just this.

I wandered all day in the forest.
I look - even the evening on the nose.
There is no longer in the sky
Only red trail remained.
Potted fir, oak fell asleep.
In the MGL, the hazel caught.
Sleeping sleepy pine.
And silence came.
And the coolness is silent, and the thrush is silent,
And the woodpecker is no longer knocking.
Suddenly hear - Owl fluttered,
Yes, so that foliage shuddered:
- ear! Time is in vain
Furious in the sky dawn.
Come on Krikun,
Until the moon got out. -
Another blocked in response:
- I did not reach my dinner. -
And again the first: - ear!
You are forever challenged nonsense.
We will not have time to fly:
After all, can lock the doors.
Throw lunch, fly now.
Take it - and the conceded tale.

Spread the branches I shoulder
And shouted: - Owl, what are you talking about?

Having twisted the beak, one of them
I was responsible for two:
- There is a strange boy in the world.
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Linkor can draw
And evil dogs to train.
But only say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He root turns until the morning:

"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish
i can not,
Better to the owls
utah ... "
We reasoned: so, so
Once this little eccentric
Nights do not want to sleep,
He must become a joint.
In the hollow, the boy will take
Five terrible words say,
Let's give magic grass
And turn it into the owl.
Here owls from the branches rose
And in the darkness of the night carved.

I knew where they were flying
Who wants to smoke!
After all, it is Zhenka, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he all nights
Screaming, brown and roar:

"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish
i can not,
Better to the owls
utah ... "

How to get these sov?
How to warn me to warn me?
No one can help me:
Very dark, the night has come.
Foggy haze rose
In the sky, the stars lit up ...

I rushed to wake:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend got into trouble,
And I will not find the road ... -

Thought the woodpecker, paused
And the head shook:
- I will not do anything.
I fly the mouse wake up. -
Now the mouse came running
And wept: - What are sad?
After all, my familiar old mole
I dug a straight underground stroke.
You can straight go,
There you will not betray you from the way. -
And despite the darkness,
I rushed to the mole.
But here I waited for trouble:
The stroke of the width was with the crot!
Well, how to go on the road,
When I do not fit in it?
We'll have to break on top,
Yes, how to find the path in the darkness?
Here I will not help me glasses ...
But the woodpecker shouted: - Fireflies! -
And the fireflies flew,
Such good bugs
And immediately retreated the blades,
And I rushed like an arrow,
As a swollen
as a helicopter,
As a jet plane!

Here I am at home. Previously owl!
Familiar Zhenkin I hear Röv:

"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish
i can not,
Better to the owls
utah ... "

I shouted: - Zhenka, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls fly here!
Here you have brewed the catcher! -
And I all told him.
And Zhenka immediately silent,
As if did not shout in life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise the taramos.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He falls asleep until morning.
And owls at night do not sleep:
Capricious eraset guys.

illustration of Lion Tokmakova.

The husband still remembers how his mother read this fairy tale))))

From the story of a children's psychologist:

At one time, my son did not want to go to bed. What I just did not come up with, but everything is without result. In the evening the time to sleep our house scandal and tears. Son shouts do not want, I will not and so on. The tale helped me out then, only I had to learn her by heart. And when it came time to go to bed again, the son began again, that another 10 minutes, then tears, then I say: "I have one very truthful story that my mother told me in childhood, do you want to tell me?" And told ... And after a couple of days he himself asked to tell him about the owls and went to bed peacefully. It was worth saying that it was time to rest and what was already dark, and therefore the owls woke up ... Try it, maybe it will help you.
Irina Tokmakova

Evening fairy tale

I wandered all day in the forest.
I look - even the evening on the nose,
There is no longer in the sky
Only red trail remained.
Pretched ate. Oak fell asleep.
In the MGL, the hazel caught.
Sleeping sleepy pine.
And silence comes:
And the point is silent, and the thrush is silent.
And the woodpecker is no longer knocking.
Suddenly hear - Owl fluttered,
Yes, so that foliage shuddered:

Ear! Time is in vain
Furious in the sky dawn.
Come on Krikun,
Until the moon got out.
Another grunted in response
- I did not reach my dinner.

And again the first: - ear!
You are forever challenged nonsense!
We will not have time to fly:
After all, can lock the doors.
Throw lunch, fly now,
Take it - and the conceded tale.
Spread the branches I shoulder
And shouted: - Owl, what are you talking about?
Having twisted the beak, one of them
I was responsible for two:
- Along the world there is a strange boy
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Linkor can draw
And evil dogs to train.
But only say: "It's time to sleep."
He root turns until the morning:
- Do not devour fire,
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish
I can not,
Better to owls run ...
We reasoned: so, so
Once this little eccentric
Nights do not want to sleep,
He must become a joint.
In the hollow, the boy will bring
Five terrible words say,
Let's give magic grass
And turn it into the owl.
Here the owls rose from the spot
And in the darkness of the night carved.
I knew where they were flying
Who wants to smoke!
After all, it is Zhenka, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he all nights
Screaming, brown and roar:
- Do not quit
Fire
Do not ask
Me,
Does not matter
Not asleep
All bed
Invert
I do not wish
I can not,
Better to the owls
Utah ...
How to get these sov?
How to warn me to warn me?
No one can help me:
Very dark, the night has come.
Foggy haze rose
In the sky, the stars lit up ...
I rushed to wake:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend got into trouble,
And I will not find the road ...
Thought the woodpecker, paused
And the head shook:
- I can't do anything,
I fly the mouse wake up.
Now the mouse came running
And wept: - What are sad?
After all, my familiar old mole
I dug a straight underground stroke.
You can straight go,
There you will not betray you from the way.
And despite the darkness,
I rushed to the mole.

But here I waited for trouble:
The stroke of the width was with the crot!
Well, how to go on the road,
When I do not fit in it?
We'll have to break on top.
Yes, how to find the path in the darkness?
Here I will not help me glasses ...
But the woodpecker shouted: - Fireflies!
And the fireflies flew,
Such good bugs.
And immediately retreated the blades,
And I rushed like an arrow,
As a swollen
As a helicopter,
As a jet plane!

Here I am at home. Previously owl!
Normal Zhenkin I hear Ryiv
- Do not quit
Fire
Do not ask
Me,
Does not matter
Not asleep
All bed
Invert
I do not wish
I can not,
Better to the owls
Utah ...
I shouted: - Zhenka, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls fly here!
Here you have brewed the catcher!
And I all told him.
And Zhenka immediately silent,
As if did not shout in life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise the taramos.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep,"
He falls asleep until morning.
And owls at night do not sleep.

Someone can say that after such a fairy tale, the child will be afraid even more, but it is not. My owls were not afraid, although not the most brave boys. I, after reading it, she said that Owls live in the forest, but if they strongly shake and noise, cry in the black throat, they could hear and arrive. The son then asked, and what will take me? I answered, of course not, my mother will not give, but will fly and look out the window, who screams so much? He calmed down and owls we did not be afraid, but when he again started to close at the expense of sleep, I told him: "What are you called?" And after that, he somehow hesitated himself.

Evening tale.
1...
I wandered all day in the forest,
I look - even the evening on the nose.
There is no longer in the sky
Only red trail remained
Potted fir, oak fell asleep.
In the MGL, the hazel drowned.
Sleeping Sleepy Pine
And silence comes:
And the cross is silent, and the thrush is silent,
And the woodpecker is no longer knocking.
Suddenly hear - Owl fluttered,
Yes, so that the foliage fell:
- ear! Time is in vain
Furious in the sky dawn,
Come on Krikun,
Until the moon got out. -
The second burned in response:
- I did not reach my dinner. -
And again the first: - ear!
You are forever challenged nonsense.
We will not have time to fly,
After all, can lock the doors.
Throw lunch, fly now,
Take it and end the tale.
Spread the branches I shoulder
And shouted: -sy, what are you talking about?
2...
Having twisted the beak, one of them
I was responsible for two:
- There is a strange boy in the world.
He himself knows how to eat porridge,
Linkor can draw
And evil dogs to train.
But only say: "It's time to sleep!" -
He turns the roar until the morning:
"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish, I can not
Better to the owls run ... "
We reasoned: so, so
Once this little eccentric
Nights do not want to sleep,
It should be the Council.
In the hollow boy bring,
Five terrible words say,
Let's give magic grass
And turn it into the owl. -
Here owls from the branches rose
And in the darkness of the night carved.
I knew where they would fly,
Who wants to smoke!
After all, it is Zhenka, my neighbor,
He is five and a half years old
And he is all nights
Screaming, brown and roar:
"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish, I can not
Better to the owls run ... "
How to get these sov?
How to warn me to warn me?
No one can help me:
Very dark, the night has come.
Foggy haze rose
In the sky, the asterisk litto ...
3...
I rushed to wake:
- Listen, woodpecker, how can I be?
My best friend got into trouble,
And I will not find the road ... -
Thought the woodpecker, paused
And the head shook:
- I can't do anything,
I fly the mouse wake up. -
Now the mouse came running
And wept: -What is sad?
After all, my familiar old mole
I dug a straight underground stroke.
You can straight go,
There you will not betray you from the way. -
And despite the darkness,
I rushed to the mole.
But I was waiting for my trouble:
The stroke of the width was with the crot!
Well, how to go on the road,
When will I not be placed in it?
Will have to be on the ride,
Yes, how to find the path in the darkness?
Here I will not help me glasses ...
But the woodpecker shouted: - Fireflies! -
And the fireflies flew,
Such good bugs
And immediately retreated the blades,
And I rushed like an arrow,
As a sword, like a helicopter,
Like a jet plane!
4...
Here I am at home. Previously owl!
Normal Zhenkin hear the roar:
"Do not quay fire
Do not ask me
Still not asna
The whole bed is turned over
I do not wish, I can not
Better to the owls run ... "
I shouted: - Zhenka, brother, trouble!
After all, two owls fly here!
Here you have brewed the catcher! -
And I all told him.
And Zhenka immediately silent,
As if did not shout in life.
And more he in the evenings
Does not raise the taramos.
As soon as they say: "It's time to sleep!"
He falls asleep until morning.
And owls at night do not sleep:
Capricious eraset guys.