Drutneva, Evgenia Fedorovna - in his native land. The literary evening "I am proud of my homeland in my native land and breathe abruptly ...

Drutneva, Evgenia Fedorovna - in his native land. The literary evening "I am proud of my homeland in my native land and breathe abruptly ...

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Tatyana Malygin
Literary evening "I am proud of my homeland"

Literary evening"I i am proud of my homeland»

Goal: to bring up a sense of patriotism, pride for the country, instill a feeling of love for radiatful region, to bring up a respectful attitude towards the older generation.

Registration: drawings, poems, story about motherland Yu. Yakovlev, collections of poems A. Tarkhanova, M. Shulgin, M. Vagatova, R. Rugina.

Sounds song "What starts Motherland»

The course of the event.

Leading:

In a large country, every person has its own little corner - village, street, house where he born. This is his little motherland. And from a variety of such small different corners is our common, great Motherland.

Motherland Starts on the threshold of your house. She is huge and beautiful.

Motherland is always with youWherever you live. And everyone has one. How is your mom.

Motherland - mother of their people. She is proud of her sons and daughters, cares about them; And comes to the rescue, gives strength.

We love Motherland. And love MotherlandSo live with her one life.

Washing country is my native

A lot of forests, fields and rivers

I don't know the arc country

Where man breathes so freely.

Grigory Lazarev.

Sun of Happiness and Freedom

Shining my motherland.

Russian, Khanty- All nations,

Friends as one family.

Russian, Khanty, Nenets- Brothers

We are in the rights of our equal

We are all happy in the arms

Our material is the country.

E. Trutneva "In the native edge!"

How good in the native edge!

You are all happier in the world.

In the gardens the starlings they sing

Warm wind is friends with you,

Sunny spring bunny

To you breaks into the window,

In fragrant hives Sweet honey!

And how many forest berries

Do you colide in Lukoshko in the summer?

In fragrant ulle sweet honey

All summer saves a bee.

With you celebrates New Year

Your forest guest is a Christmas tree.

You are waiting for you in the country

Hiking, games and sciences,

And every step your shake

Her caring hands!

Leading: A. M. Seghepov "Ma Municipal"

Motion lamp Anya Move

AR Takhin Vantsum Ma.

Ana Pa Vantsum Tamas Mov-

ma Samhamn Isa Luv.

Wesum Voshn, Karas Rapn,

Muipa Sending Söras Pan.

Rat Mouvie, Nagat Namlam,

Sami Husya Isa Taylem.

Khanty Yoshlan Iska Mov

tovyi Syung Luv.

Rusing, Hanting, Lachsang Move

Arsar Tasi Si Tale Luv.

ASEV lamp VUTANG MOV:

Vantang, Hulang, Tasyung Luv

Lasakov Samup Hunting Mov

Ma Samhamn Isa Luv.

N. Polyakova « my motherland»

-What means: my motherland?

You ask. I'll answer:

Since the beginning of the trail land

It runs to meet you.

Then the garden will adorn you

Each fragrant branch.

Then you see a slender row

Multi-storey houses.

Then bus blue

And a long-long train

The train is out of steppe

With title: Virgin.

Then wheat fields

From the edge and to the edge.

All this - Motherland yours,

Your native land.

The older you become more stronger,

The more before you

She is tempting paths

Calculately reveal.

A. Prokofiev

No on light Motherland Mile.

Sounds "Song about Kazima"

Leading:

I love cedar thickets

And coast

And narts to the trail go

In silent gave snow.

Mikul Shulgin

Winter forest

In silver-fire

My cedar forest

He took his head to the gray sky.

He is in the snow on the chest

Like a hare bal.

And he should be

Moonlight like chalk.

He is just a forest

He is an universal bridge;

Crowns here in the ground,

Crowns there, medium stars.

Sensantly froze the forest

Like a miracle waiting

On the trunks, his long hums go.

Chu! Deer run

Loud talk suddenly.

Hey, sit down, pass!

Hey, do not bag, friend!

I. Nikitin "Shumi, noise, green forest"

Leading: I. Erenov "Ma Municaem"

Vorach Karup Vancy,

Niercy Hashup Padanat,

Nuvi Sayup Rapat

Isa Manaem Moslate.

Lokyn Pitum \u200b\u200bVanesh

Paw kwwartum uncertain

Mui Khuramat Vaitlan

Tama Yukhat Ringed!

Nyara Pitum \u200b\u200bSumala

Wairie Honang Nangk Pai,

Laura Vut Pelac EUM,

Vasya PA Uva Push.

Yuhan Honang Cartat,

Sanghm Uhapat flies -

Sit Ma Muda Takht,

Sam Pitum \u200b\u200bMouview.

Leading: Our country is immense and immense. Diverse the nature of our the edges: Plains and mountains, forests and steppes, lakes and rivers

Prokoki Saltykov "North"

Lakes, lakes,

Lakes without edge

Buckets blue,

Blue water.

Yes, rare thickets

Curly floast

Let you, north,

Grass and foliage.

Let you take into a girlfriend

Blizzards and blizzes

Earth snow.

And yet, and yet

You're the most loved one.

Comrade Stern

My father rami

"Swans"

Snowy Blue-in-law

To the north the wild flock stretches.

I hear in a soft crushing,

It can be seen, mile them sideways

Paradise Alien, Merry Paradise ...

Comic khanty sounds "Song about a mouse"

Leading:

We love laughing

On narts ride, on white snow in winter

And honestly, with frost big

We are reluctant home

Let the Red Sun

We are shining in the window

Rays touches eye

We are the north children

On our planet

There are a lot of friends.

Roman Rugin. "Duma about the north"

Ivan Surikov "Childhood"

Here is my village,

Here is my home native,

I'm rolling in sledding

In grief cool.

So killed sledges,

And I'm on the booth!

Kubarem Kachsya

Under the mountain, in a snowdrift.

And friends are boys

Standing in me.

Fun getting fun over my misfortune.

All face and hands

He shoved me snow ...

To me in a snowdrift, grief,

And the guys laughter.

Leading:

Quiz

1. Name our Motherland?

2. Name the capital of our Motherland?

3. What do you imagine when they say the word « Motherland

4. Competition "Remember proverbs"

5. How do you answer on question: "What means my motherland» ?

6. Excerpt from poem:

Motion lamp Anya Move

AR Takhin Vantsum Ma.

Ana Pa Vantsum Tamas Mov-

7. Name writers and poets who write about Motherland?

8. Translate words to the Khanty language:

(River, Lake, Water, Sky)

Leading:

T Thane "Veterans"

These people - fallen leaves ...

They do not take off on the branch.

Although wise and borrowed thoughts -

Obvious and everyday death.

They are fragments of forgotten battles,

In them - excerpts from the book ...

The time they cast from steel.

Does their feat of Nope?

Defended. Saved. Revived.

All nations managed to rally.

Where else was so schochenna,

To pay love to pay?

I look at these honest faces

With a feeling of vague guilt.

And I want to bow to the ground

Generation of a terrible war.

Their winds are fat:

Here, by chance, they brought here ...

Old people are conscience of Russia

Feed ... But in us - sprouted.

I love you the expanse of the eponym

Your lakes and River Blue.

Mountains Darkness and white plain,

Tall forest and low grass.

Sounds song "How healthy is that we all gathered here".

© Andrey Shalamov, 2016

Created in the Intellectual Publishing System Ridero

To readers

Hello my dear! I am glad that reading my poems, you together with me share the love of great poetry. This is the second full collection, the first came out in 2012 and was called "Lyrics. Favorites. "

The name of this book is "in the native edge and breathing abruptly ..." It was not necessary to say that I wanted to say good poems about my native land, the Nizhny Novgorod region, where he was born and grew. This collection contains poems about the city, where I now live, the village, where he spent children's years, a lot of landscape lyrics and poems observations. I love my homeland, Nizhny Novgorod Region, an excellent Volga, probably, all this determined the choice of works that entered this collection.

All my poems, and they are already more than 500, you can still find on my page on the Internet on the site "Poems.ru - the site of modern national poetry"

With good and best wishes, yours, Andrei Shalamov

In the native edge and breathe abolish ...


In his native edge and breathe
And sweeter there are no those smells of cross
Daisies with cornflowers
Lugged carpets of alive spread.

Silk herbs land caresses legs
I love I, as if in childhood, barefoot
Broken in the meadows carelessly without a road
In the forgotten world, that so the soul is familiar.

Cow Herd in Black and White Spots
In the buckle of sleepy velvet bumblebees,
And the sky in white boost clouds ...
And somewhere ... on the edge ... Nightingale ....

In the hometown, everything is close and familiar
And there is no mile of robusts and fields,
Where a boy ran away from home
In the distant childhood of my memory ...

My city ...


My city - you are twisted today and a little tired
From the flow of cars and people, which is in a rush somewhere,
You today worked all day and did a lot,
You, like everyone in the world, there is also a soul.

You covered your homes, heated a lot of lives,
Gave shelter and protect the Holy Human Love,
You are glorified in the eyelids, called, simply, the bottom,
Today you are tired, rest, riding all the lights.

Let the trees in the night pay for you a serenade,
From the heated houses, let heat heat you
You calmly sleep, silence will be as a reward,
And in the dairy morning with love will wake dawn.

Well, and with the first beam - again fun in the breecy of everyday life,
Helping all of us live soul in unity with you,
Choose your own way, it is complicated and difficult for everyone,
We are your townspeople, our city, our lower native ...

Volga Mother, Russian Mother ...



The look caresses borders borders,
You are my quench all sadness,
Heaven light bulge from grooves.

Volga, shore, Luga Flusted,
After another forest and fields,
Sky wide, clouds painted,
It is homeland, I grown here.

Volga, coast, river coolness,
Tomny evening ... Tingry Solovna,
At night, Dark ... rains of the starral
In the morning ... in a pink dress ... dawn.

Volga, shore, spacious Dali,
You can tell a lot about her,
After all, it was not whatever called her
Volga - Mother, Russian mother.

Today I am again in the White Forest ...


Today I am again in the White Forest
In the waves of the greenery crown the gilding spilled,
How can I love in Russia without
A whittle miracle is a gift of nature.

I feel good in the forest, silence and peace
We lull the soul in the forest cradle,
I'm squeezing uncovered my head
To the whittle miracle that in the songs they melt.

Give me the strength of the birch, my native,
All in the intricate knit sheets and branches,
Under the feet to the pain native land,
Here is the parent edge and the traditions of the ancestors.

Today I am again in the Testavyval Forest,
Although I do not often go to the lap of nature,
I in the Birch Paradise with my heart I hurry,
Only here to feel the sweet air of freedom.

Where there is no falsehood and evil, no borders and shackles,
Where and breathe freely, from the edge to the edge,
I keep in my heart to Russia Love,
Whitestval birch poems devoting.

Cerebrid traveler


Froze the sky in gray-blue,
Hung low clouds
Sparkled inevitable shower
What brought from afar.

Drooped bright birch
All sheets were squeezed on the branches,
Afraid that thunderstorms will be offended
Pressure of a fierce wave.

There are clouds from afar,
Thunderstorm rats
And the wind is squall and mighty
Left somewhere brakes.

He reigns again and dances
On the roofs of compressed houses,
In the thunderstorm, he, rude and important,
The owner of streets and yards.

I love my mumbling summer
Gust and wind, and thunderstorms,
Sleep the heat of heat dormant
Cool rain tears.

Takes fast wind strong
Rainy clouds lead system
Washed the city of the soul, dusty
Cold rainwater.

And immediately the sun with a bright glitter,
And the world as if resurrected,
Forget and you are about wind bold,
Careless traveler heaven ...

Dreams in the rain


Sky smooth blue-black
In wet drops of rain
Sleeping cloud
And crawling at me.

Covers half the city,
And there is no ZGI,
And goosebumps from cold
Ran. Zamri.

Under a canopy lavecon,
Where they traded the old
Seller there Girl,
Often tea with her drink.

And talk about the street,
About familiar guys
And about the films Kusturians,
And about the late sunset ...

I turned rare the element of the IMG,
And rains took
The sun rushed light glare
It became warm again.

And from the shop until the evening
I will not leave again
Listen to the girl I will i
And something dream ...

Nizhny Novgorod Mo.




Nizhny Novgorod, for me you are, of course, fate,
Here, all people will help me, and maybe the walls.

I sign every stone on the walls of the Gray Kremlin,
It is possible to breathe here on endless expanses on the Volga,
Under my legs to pain, native land,
What always will remind us of Motherland, faith and duty.

I love my city, he in his own way is all beautiful,
In the waters of a powerful river reflected walls and towers,
And above the Volga with an eye, a wonderful motive spreads
The lyrical Sorma song of native and homely.

On the green hills, golden dome flame
Protecting the peace of our Third Volga capital,
Our main value has always been our affairs,
That the story inscribed the page to the page.

Steaming beep will fly over a river wave,
Scattering a flock of gulls, whose voice is trembling and ringing,
Nizhny Novgorod, the city is nice and, for sure, the native,
Previously, you just called closed and bitter.

I look at the houses frozen in the stone,
On the romance of bridges that they cut the city like arrows,
Nizhny Novgorod, where the hostess is winter today,
Nizhny Novgorod my, frozen, winter and white.

My homeland is coming


Our homeland is wonderful,
Lush greens of forests,
Dal - Infinite Heavenly
Always in the power of the winds.
Gold fieldless field
In the waves of the ears of the tight,
Red hats combines,
As if in the fields of irons ...
Blue satin Vasilkova
Rivers and boundless lakes,
Meadow, infinitely familiar -
In cute daisies carving ...
Shelkova rustle birro
Drowned by the wind slightly
Our side of the sketch
Visible straight from the window ...
How I love to enjoy
View of the surrounding plains,
As if the water is drunk
Air Nive and Hollow ...
Something special smells
What does not smell anywhere
In London, Varna and Lahti -
Everything is different everywhere ...
I know always returning
From the bustle of cities,
Motherland I'm coming for
Here is my life and love ...

I want your soul with love with love


We are with you slaves
All habits and our sins
We are accustomed to live a lot, never regretted anything,
We are of course weak
And fear of incorrect steps,
By erecting idols in the absurd mouth of the mausoleum.

We are afraid of fate
Frankly dwelled dreams
Burning all his life somehow and, the soul of Kameryya,
We do not hear Molba,
Leaving blindly in the luxury of palaces
Frank Molba that the soul sends, sorry.

How so, we are with you
Dissolved during days
Our soul has long been stripped onto hundreds of fragments,
Just became a crowd,
Gray mass and it's a lot
Understand that the rootless is both Merzko and Kolko.

Dock and find
Its strength in the dysfast soul
This power is in love, because she has not disappeared anywhere,
Who offended, sorry
Do not look for your life in Mirage,
I want your soul with love with love.

"I am an old gate reveal ..."


I welcome old gate
In the dawn hour of dairy dawn,
You give a bouquet of daisies
Me assembled on the step from the summer.

I will hear the cry of the asking for the rooster,
That guarded the peace of night sometimes,
Horn to the collection of Pavlushka-shepherd,
Cow fun hero.

We broke up only five minutes ago,
And it seems that the century will passed,
I again again tone in your eyes,
Calling in the feelings of beautiful dismissal.

Get to the lips, from tenderness sigh,
The soul is caught by a bird in the pinema,
And the heart will listen to silence,
With love to us donated together ...

Great poet and man ...


(Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin)

Forgotten strings of a string ...
Fog will be contacted in poems,
The connection of the elements
Love and loyalty page ...

Is Pushkin forgotten? - not forgotten
Great and royal, road
His poetry from God
Pierced our way and life.

I dream of getting bold
Walk around the park and alleys,
With reverence, Robust,
His edge touched with a vast.

Find that oak and chain on it,
Sigh that air poet
And meet the first ray of dawn,
Washed gentle rain.

Great poet and man
He is the son of the Decembrist era,
He is the pillar of poetry of the Russian
And the genius of the past forever ...

Grandmother


Spindle itself without tired spinning
And jumps with a light chain on the hut,
Distant years, and grandmother I dream,
She played a role in my fate.

Bent back, corn hand,
The eyes that were full of love,
All the severity of war, and hunger all flour
On your shoulders are weak easily.

Volga region, poverty, war and lighter
Bend, but did not defeat the Spirit,
And the grandmother was easy to sing, sing,
And sang to support everyone around.

And the song was flowed, flew through the expanses
Called war, and hunger with trouble,
She taught us itself: "Do not believe the conversations,
What is dissatisfied with all by their destiny. "

"There is water in the well, and there is a scratch of bread,
And apples, and a field with swan ",
And if there is no water, it hits a lot of snow,
The order in the house is just golden.

And they always lived, and there was happiness in the house,
She taught us - "Be good!",
And grandchildren, and children loved everything insanely,
But somehow told me: "I die."

"I'm not afraid of death, because you are my inheritance,
I'll hang you - welcome! "
I remember forever, I remembered from childhood
Words ... Simple, spindlers ... thread ...

White Parus.


White sail on blue lazuries
Viden each afar.
He was born by the splash of the sea from the storm
He is born of a river drop.

White sail you see anyone
You drive you a mysterious breeze,
You are walking around the seaside
In halo sparkling splashes.

You are flying the full wind of dreams,
Illuminated by the shine of the day
Before you the dealer's road
Do you take me with my ...

The full name of the educational institution:(including region and settlement) Perm Territory The city of Perm Municipal Autonomous General Education institution "Secondary School No. 28"

Subject: extracurricular reading

Topic: Writers of our region to children.

Class: 2.

Educational and methodical support:, Boykina reading. Working programs. 1-4 classes. Moscow: Enlightenment, 2013 Pounding Developments on literary reading to the UMC "School of Russia" Moscow: Wako 2013 Literary reading. Textbook. Grade 2 (Cost.,) Moscow: Enlightenment, 2013

Time for the exercise: 45 minutes

The purpose of the lesson:introduce students with works of Perm writers, with biographies of Perm writers; form interest in books, desire and ability to consciously choose and read

Tasks lesson:

Educational

· Expand the representation of students on the literature of the native land,

· Learning to work with books,

· Develop the ability to think and feel

· Formulate sustainable interest in books,

· Email the habit of in-depth reading.

Developing

· Develop speech students

· The ability to awareness and verbal expression of their own attitude to the work,

· Artistic and creative and informative abilities; Emotional responsiveness when reading works.

Educational

· Relieve a sense of love, respect for the native land

· Enrich moral experience and develop moral senses of students.

· To acquire children to literature as the art of the word, to understand what makes literature artistic,


Type of lesson:Learning learning new knowledge

Form of the lesson: Lesson - Staging

Equipment:

Exhibition of books of Perm writers, exhibition of books written by students, exhibition of drawings, portraits of writers, card of the Perm Territory.

Preliminary work:

Reading stories, fairy tales, Poems of Perm writers, Illustrating the works of the works, Pen's test: the creation of his books, participation in the conference of the poems, meeting with writers: A. Zelenin, A. Polyanskaya

Lesson plan:

During the classes

1. Organizational moment

2. Setting the purpose and objectives of the lesson. Motivation of students' learning activities.

Poem(reads student in Russian national costume)

« In the native edge

Everything for you in my native edge!
You are all happier in the world
In the gardens the starlings they sing
With you friendly May wind.

Sunny spring bunny
To you breaks into the window,
And how many forest berries
You will colide in Lukoshko in the summer.

In fragrant hive sweet honey
All summer saves a bee.
With you celebrates New Year
Your forest guest is a Christmas tree.

You are waiting for you in the country
Camping, games and science.
And every step your shake
Her caring hands!

F. Trutneva

Evgenia Fedorovna Trutneva (1884-1959). Famous children's poetess. Brought up adoptive parents.
After graduation in 1904, the gymnasium in Perm worked in the office of the Perm Railway, the secretary and the class mentor in the Perm women's gymnasium named. From 1931 he worked at the Pedagogical Institute first the librarian, then a laboratory assistant on the department.

Poems began to write in the gymnasium years.
During the Great Patriotic War, heading the literary part of the Perm Puppet Theater, wrote a play "in the enemy's rear" and "fairy tale." During his lifetime, more than 40 collections of her poems were published: "Gift", "Snow city", "Motherland", "Victory", "Tropinka", "Mushrooms", "in the native land", "Seasons", "from the Golden Chair "," My calendar "and others.

Teacher:Perm region, Prikamye - This is a big, rich region, part of the country called Russia. To love your edge, you need to learn it, learn. You can study differently. So make various scientists. And we will try to look at your native Kamaye through the eyes of children's writers. Each of them in its own way expresses his love for our big and small homeland. Let this love find a response and in your soul.

3. Actualization of knowledge.

Teacher:Name the writers of the Perm region and their works that you read (children's answers)

Teacher:"Captain Ko-Ko and Green Steklushko", "Yasha Bubenchikov", "shoes", "House with a bell", "starvature". Who wrote these works?

4. Primary learning of new knowledge.

Biography. Born on January 06, 1928 in the village of Zadorino Parfenyevsky district of the Kostroma region. The father lost in the early 30s., Early childhood spent in the village of grandmother's peasant in the village, and studied at the Nikolo-Poloma station, where his mother worked as a teacher. During the war, he left the eighth class and worked as a tractor driver, then she studied one year in the art and industrial school in the village of Krasnoy-on-Volga, in 1946 he moved to the Leningrad construction technique, combined with work. After the protection of the diploma, Siberia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Perm worked. Since 1969, he was exclusively creative for children and junior. Compiled several collections: "Get up, Mitenka!" "Schneyzhka" "The door in the meadow" "Cophering" "One hundred silver horses" "Happy pearls" was awarded the orders of the "Honor Sign", medals "for valiant work in the Great Patriotic War", "Veteran Labor". Honored Worker of Culture. The name is the Perm Regional Children's Library.


Return of Elephant(They read 7 students in the masks of fabulous heroes).
Under the sun, scorching
From the slope
On the slope
Going in the mountains
Elephant traveler.
All the lands he passed
All countries saw
Broom made
Sidewalks in Madrid,
In Istanbul Porta
Shipboats loaded,
But everywhere, but everywhere the house was sad.
And finally he was completely stuck
I bought a suitcase and gathered on the road.
And so he walks,
Ears shake -
Native and acquaintance
Gifts carries.
And homeland

Each minute is closer,
A mountain slopes
Low and lower ...
And the way ended!
And in the bright river
Tip Meet Elephant Countrymen.

They hug him and swing,
And he is
All, everyone! -
By gifts hands.
Slonic makes perfume and seelings,
Elephant - a briefcase with a host and boots,
Giraf - coat in a golden cage,
And hippo - with a pomponchik cap.
And all grateful, all are happy quite,

But here he is heard:
- Sorry! And me?
Do not me? -
Suddenly from somewhere came out
And the gray mouse was complaints about.
And immediately arrived and confused an elephant.
- What is me happy! - he said.
And threw a jacket,
And fell pocket,
And the trunk lasted the suitcase,
And slammed again
And row sat down,
And sad said:
- Suitcase empty!
And everyone is nourished ...

But here in full mouth
Shouted the sad hippo:
- Think, grief!
Well, if you, brothers,
Are you because of the mouse so worried?
After all, we are giants!
And the mouse is slightly visible.
But the elephant whispered:
- Did not poured, old.
The mouse is not worse than you, hippo!
She, ceremony, also a gift hunting.
And I correct my mistake,
I leave friends and family again.

And so he rose,
Tired sighed
Trunk, as if hand, waved
And moved again in other people's edges,
For far mountains
And for the sea.
He left!
And again from the house away
That streets Möl, then shipped ships.
Under it, shipping swabs crack
His bad clouds were held
He did not know any rest,
Neither respives
And - earned a gift for the mouse!
But now he bought
Not worn
And not perfume,
And the harmonica!
And he played himself,
And patted the ears
And happily grew,
And to the house sweeping.
He went and laughed!
He went and a pipe:
- Good gift
I bought the mouse!
Now it will be nice and having fun
Now I walk home comes home!

Scrolshina "Great, Swat"(Two students are involved in the costumes of Russian men)

Great, swat!

Yes, I say, great, swat!

Yes, goat went to sell.

Well, how is it doing?

Three rubles were given, yes cheaply seemed - did not give.

How does Vanyuha live?

Yes, I say, how does Vanyuha live?

A, tobacco sniff? Recently Nyukhal.

Are you, what, the matchmaker, so chibko a beard around?

Tobacco - from throwing? No, Swat, for forty years, smeared - used.

And what, the swat, the Son married?

Drop something, bought, a whole bag.

Is it good?

Is it good?

Not chib to Krushka. Winter Long - Guys will eat.

Will you, matchmaker, was very deaf?

No, the son arrived at two, and I on one: old became - there is no strength.

Yes, you, matchmaking, do not feel at all?

BUT? No, Swat, at least late, go home, not at night.

Well, the swat, they said. Goodbye!

Yes, I say, goodbye!

Cho, come? OK OK! Now both with your son will come!

Teacher:Nikita and Bogdan showed us a squromashin with you, and recorded her famous Perm scientist, a collector of folklore

Biography

Folklore's folk works reached our days thanks

gathers of folklore. One of these scientists was Ivan Vasilyevich

Zyryanov. He loved his native land, his native Kama, and of course his native village of Romanov Krasnovishersky district. Ivan Vasilyevich is known as the collector of the Urals folklore, songs, chastushk, fairy tales, jokes, non-pieces, squamous in the Kama region. He taught at the Perm Pedagogical Institute. Missed several folklore collections: "Vishero Chastushki". "Lyrical folk songs", "Ural Chastushki About Love", "Cherdynskaya Wedding", "Starikova Mystery", "Fairy Tales", "Skomoroshins".

Teacher:Tell me children, do you love riddles?

Biography.More than forty years ago, a book appeared in the shops of the city of Perm, the edition of which was a hundred thousand copies, but they started it instantly. It was called "One hundred puzzles." I composed her Perm poet Boris Shirshov. Boris Valentinovich Shirhov (1923-1973) was born in the Irkutsk region, but most of the life passed in Perm. He lealed from here only to the front. In the war, Shirshov commanded a machine-gun platoon, was injured. Returned to Perm. All his books were printed here.

Riddles from B. Shirshov Book(read two student)

If you let him go from a leash,

He will fly away from you for the clouds. (Balloon)

I walked with barefoot

And walked in green boiling water. (Nettle)

With a big hunting dust inhales,

But does not sick, does not sneeze. (A vacuum cleaner)

Tooty Pila

In the forest, a thick went,

The whole forest went around,

Nothing was cut. (Hairbrush)

On black white
They write something
Let the rag,

Clean page. (school board)

I am from the house for the threshold
Only one stepped the chamber,
The door closed behind his back
There is no way in front of me.
I and at home - and not at home,
Between heaven and earth,
Guess ka, friends:
Where am I? (On the balcony)

I'm not like a horse
And I have a saddle.
The needles are. They, confess
For knitting are not suitable.
Not alarm clock, do not tram,
But I call something and know. (bicycle)

behind the trees, bushes
Flames quickly flames
Flashed, run
There is neither smoke nor fire. (fox)

In the sky he goes
Painter without brushes.
Paint brown
Personal people (sun)

Bubbles allowed
Foam up closed -
And he did not.
All it disappeared (soap)

At the prival helped us:
Soup welded, potatoes of pec.
He is good for the campaign
Yes, you will not suffer. (bonfire)

In our kitchen all year round
Santa Claus lives in the closet. (refrigerator)

Teacher I wrote a lot of poems for adults, but there are poems that he wrote specifically for children. One of these poems is called "lied". (read two boys in fishermen costumes)

Two angler, two lies

Sat over the river.

One of them caught the view

Pescarika is another.

The bush of fishermen shared

Waving, thick,

And the first lies did not see,

Who caught the second.

The second did not see any

Whom the neighbor dragged,

And shouted: - I have a pike perch!

Almost crocodile.

Here is the first, friend of praise,

Replied: - You're strong!

And I raised my chub!

With a log, perhaps he!

Let me see! - said one

Another said: - Do not dare!

To me now do not come,

Run all chunas!

Come-ka better please

I have a neighbor ...

Replied the first: - not to go out.

Where noise, there is no cool ...

Sunset pale and faded

Over the forest behind the river.

Time to go! - one said.

Let's go, "said another.

His catches are not tai

Let's go a lie home ...

Walked along the path first i

For me - my brother.

Teacher:Look carefully at the portrait. Have you recognized this writer?

Biography Mine - SiberianMany years ago, in the Urals, a wonderful Russian writer Dmitry Narcisovich Mamin-Sibiryak lived in the Urals. He called himself a Siberian because he knew well and he loved his native land - the Urals and Siberia. The Ural Mountains stretched for hundreds of kilometers. Here in 1852, Mamin-Sibiryak was born in the factory village of Vysimo-Shaitansk. Family mother lived modestly. Father was a priest. He studied children for free for many years in the village school. Mitya helped her mother in the economy, nursing the younger sister. Mitya dreamed that he would ever tell about the life of the people, write books about the native Urals. Mamin-Sibiryak wrote a lot of excellent stories for kids and teenagers. And although many years have passed since then, but their children read with interest with interest.

5. Primary consolidation.

Guess the riddle, call the fairy tale.(Tasks read two student in turn)

Spex, small in gray fur coat, in felt boots (hare) "Tale about brave hare ..."

Summer goes without a road near pines and birches,

And in the winter he sleeps in Berorgogue, from frost hides his nose (bear) "Tale about Mosquito Komarovich"

Lied between the Christmas tree with needles,

Tihonechko lay, then suddenly ran away (hedgehog) "smarter than all"

Naughty boy in gray Armenian

The crumbs of the courtyard collects (sparrow) "Tale about Sparrow Sparrow"

Flies, fries, legs long drags,

The case will not miss: sit down and bite (Komar). "Tale about mosquito mosquito"

The whole day flies, it's bored with all

The night will come, then will stop (fly) "a fairy tale about how the last fly"

Toothy, shaggy. As it will start, the song sings (cat) "Fairy Tale about Voronushka"

Who is the fall of cold goes gloomy and hungry? (wolf) "Tale about brave hare ..."

6. Reflection

Teacher:So our lesson approached the end. And we finish our meeting the song.

Song "Hello, my homeland"(executes the whole class)

1. In the morning the sun gets up,

All calls everyone

I go out of the house I:

"Hello, my street!"

2. I sing in the embroidery

Sink birds to me

Herbs whispering to me on the way:

"Quick, friend, grow"

3. I answer herbs I,

I answer the winds I,

I answer the sun I:

"Hello, my homeland"

Bibliography:

1. "Squares" - Perm: Book Publishing House, 1984

2. L. Kuzmin "Chagall One Chudak ..." - Perm Book Publishing House, 1973

3. -Sybiryak stories and fairy tales (component "Children's literature", 1977

4. -Sebiryak "Alyonushkin Tales" - Moscow "Children's Literature", 1986

5. "In the edge of the native" poems. - Perm: Book Publishing House, 1954

6. "One hundred puzzles" - Perm: Book Publishing House, 1962

7. "Literature Prikamye" Reader for elementary school (Sost.,) - Perm: Book World, 2001

8. "Writers of the Perm Region" Bibliographic Directory (Sost.) - Perm Book Publishing House, 1985

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