My dear children!
I am writing you a letter:
I ask you to wash more often
Your hands and face.
It doesn’t matter what kind of water:
Boiled, key,
From the river, or from the well,
Or just rainy!
You definitely need to wash
Morning, evening and afternoon -
Before every meal
After sleep and before bed!
Rub with a sponge and washcloth!
Be patient - no problem!
And ink and jam
Wash off with soap and water.
My dear children!
I really, really ask you:
Wash cleaner, wash more often -
I can't stand dirty people.
I won’t give my hand to dirty people,
I won't go visit them!
I wash myself very often.
Goodbye!
Your Tuwim
ABC
What's happened? What's happened?The alphabet fell off the stove!
Painfully sprained my leg
Capital letter M,
G hit a little
It completely fell apart!
Lost the letter U
Your crossbar!
Finding myself on the floor
Broke U's tail.
F, poor thing, it’s so swollen -
No way to read it!
The letter P is turned upside down -
Turned into a soft sign!
The letter C has completely closed -
Turned into the letter O.
Letter A, when I woke up,
I didn't recognize anyone!
CUT WORDS
Sad, sleepy, cheerlessOur hedgehog came from school,
He sat down at the table and yawned once.
And fell asleep over the books.
Three words appeared here:
"Orange", "Pine", "Ring".
All three of them came up
And they said: “What is it?
What have you, Jerzy, done to us?
We'll complain to mom!"
“I,” exclaimed “Orange,”
This is no “Opelsyn”!” -
“I,” “Ring” burst into tears, “
No "Cripple"!"
“I,” Sosna got angry, “
I'm outraged to tears!
Only possible from sleep
Write that I am “Sasna”!”
"We, the words, are offended
Because they are so distorted!
Hedgehogs! Hedgehogs! Stop being lazy!
This is no good way to study!
Impossible without attention
To get an education!
It will be late! Just know it!
The lazy person will become ignorant!
If you ever again
You will cripple us, boy -
You and I will do something cool.
We value our honor,
Name Jerzy in half a minute
Let's turn it into a Hedgehog!
You will be a prickly hedgehog!
This is how we'll teach you a lesson!"
Jerzy shuddered, horrified,
I stretched and woke up.
Suppressed a yawn
Got to work.
POULTRY YARD
The duck said to the chicken:"You don't lay many eggs.
All the turkeys say
That they’ll eat you for the holiday!”
"Clubfoot! Parasite! -
The hen cackled. -
The goose said that you are not a duck
That you have catarrh of the stomach,
That your drake is a fool -
All he knows is: crack and crack!”
“Quack!” was heard in the ditch.
The goose has no right to scold me,
And for this I am stuffed
He will be apples.
I'll get to the goose!" -
"Wow!" - answered the goose.
"Ah, scandal, scandal, scandal" -
The turkey himself muttered.
Pushed the goslings around
And suddenly he pecked the goose.
The rooster came running to the cry,
Down flew out of the duck.
And it was heard in the bushes:
"Ga-ha-ha! Where-dah-dah!"
This fight is still going on
Remembers the poultry yard.
RIVER
Like a shiny ribbonThe river flows
Real.
And the day flows
And it flows at night -
Turn right
Turn left.
And the water in the river is freezing,
Grumpy near the shores,
And in the middle is lazy.
Why should she grumble, river water?
No one will say this anywhere.
Perhaps stones and fish
You could say this
But the fish are silent
And the stones are silent,
Like fish.
VEGETABLES
The hostess came from the market one day,The hostess brought home from the market:
Potatoes
Cabbage,
carrots,
Peas,
Parsley and beets.
Oh!..
Here the vegetables started a dispute on the table -
Who is better, tastier and more necessary on earth:
Potato?
Cabbage?
Carrot?
Peas?
Parsley or beets?
Oh!..
Meanwhile, the hostess took the knife
And with this knife she began to chop:
Potatoes
Cabbage,
carrots,
Peas,
Parsley and beets.
Oh!..
Covered with a lid, in a stuffy pot
Boiled, boiled in boiling water:
Potato,
Cabbage,
Carrot,
Peas,
Parsley and beets.
Oh!..
And the vegetable soup turned out to be not bad!
ABOUT JANEK
Janek lived in the world,He was stupid.
If you want to know -
That's what he did.
He drew water with a sieve,
He taught the birds to fly,
He asked the blacksmith
Shoe the cat.
Seeing a mosquito
I took up the ax
He carried firewood into the forest,
And the apartment is dirty.
He built in winter
Ice house:
"There will be a dacha
It’s spring for me!”
On a hot summer afternoon
He was blowing in the sun.
The horse is tired
He carried out a chair.
Somehow he's fifty dollars
I paid it for a nickel.
It's easier to explain to you:
Janek was a fool!
BIRD RADIO
Attention! Attention!Today at five o'clock
Today to our studio
(Attention attention!)
Different birds will flock to the radio meeting!
Firstly, on the question:
When, at what time
Is it more convenient and profitable to use dew?
The second question is long overdue:
What is an "echo"?
And if there is it in the forest,
Where is it hiding?
On the third question
Drozd reports,
Appointed to manage the repair of avian
nest
Then the debate begins:
And whistling, and creaking, and singing,
Rumbling and squealing,
And chirping and chirping.
Performances will begin
Starlings, goldfinches, tits
And everyone without exception
Other famous birds.
Attention! Attention!
Today at five o'clock
The station will work for groves and forests!
Our receiver at five o'clock
Received a hundred votes:
"Fiur-fiur! Fu-fu-fuo!
Tick-tweet! Tew-tew-tew-tew!
Pew Pew! Tsvir-tsvir-tsvir!
Chivi-chivi! Tyr-tyr-tyr!
Sleep, sleep, sleep! Lu-lu! Tsik-tsik!
Shadow-shadow-shadow! Chu-ik! Chu-ik!
Ko-ko-ko! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Gur-gur-gur! Ku-ka-riku!
Ka-arr! Ka-arr! Pi-it! Drink!.."
We didn't know what to do!
Obviously at this hour
The transfer is not for us!
WHERE ARE THE GLASSES?
- What happened to Aunt Valya?- Her glasses are missing!
The poor old lady is looking for
Behind the pillow, under the pillow,
I climbed with my head
Under the mattress, under the blanket,
I looked into the buckets, into the jars,
In boots, felt boots, boots,
Turned everything upside down
I sat and rested,
She sighed and grumbled
And I went to look first.
Feeling under the pillow again,
He looks behind the tub again.
I lit a candle in the kitchen,
She climbed into the stove with a candle,
Searched the pantry -
All in vain! All for nothing!
Aunt Valya has no glasses -
Apparently they were stolen!
The old woman sat down on the chest.
There was a mirror hanging nearby.
And the old lady saw
Why was I looking for glasses in the wrong place?
What are they really?
They sat on her forehead.
So wonderful glass
Aunt Valya helped.
Translation from Polish by Sergei Mikhalkov
Dear children and their parents! Here you can read " Verse The alphabet fell off the stove! »as well as other best works on the page Poems about the alphabet. In our children's library you will find a collection of wonderful literary works by domestic and foreign writers, as well as from different peoples of the world. Our collection is constantly updated with new material. The online children's library will become a faithful assistant for children of any age and will introduce young readers to different genres of literature. We wish you pleasant reading!
Verse The alphabet fell off the stove! read
What's happened?
What's happened?
The alphabet fell off the stove!
Painfully sprained my leg
Capital letter N,
G hit a little
It completely fell apart!
Lost the letter U
Your crossbar!
Finding myself on the floor
Broke U's tail!
F, poor thing, it’s so swollen -
No way to read it!
The letter P is turned upside down -
Turned into a soft sign!
The letter C has completely closed -
Turned into the letter O.
Letter A, when I woke up,
I didn't recognize anyone!
Great ones about poetry:
Poetry is like painting: some works will captivate you more if you look at them closely, and others if you move further away.
Small cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creaking of unoiled wheels.
The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is what has gone wrong.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Of all the arts, poetry is the most susceptible to the temptation to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen splendors.
Humboldt V.
Poems are successful if they are created with spiritual clarity.
The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is usually believed.
If only you knew from what rubbish poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion on a fence, like burdocks and quinoa.
A. A. Akhmatova
Poetry is not only in verses: it is poured out everywhere, it is all around us. Look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life emanate 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. The poet makes our thoughts sing within us, not our own. By telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He's a magician. By understanding him, we become poets like him.
Where graceful poetry flows, there is no room for vanity.
Murasaki Shikibu
I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in the Russian language. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. It is through feeling that art certainly emerges. 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 me yourself?
- Monstrous! – Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! – the newcomer asked pleadingly.
- I promise and swear! - Ivan said solemnly...
Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "Master and Margarita"
We all write poetry; poets differ from others only in that they write in their words.
John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"
Every poem is a veil stretched over the edges of a few words. These words shine like stars, and because of them the poem exists.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
Ancient poets, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. This is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times there is certainly hidden an entire Universe, filled with miracles - often dangerous for those who carelessly awaken the dozing lines.
Max Fry. "Chatty Dead"
I gave one of my clumsy hippopotamuses this 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 the critics. They are just pathetic sippers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let poetry seem to him like an absurd moo, a chaotic pile-up of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from a boring mind, a glorious song sounding 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 more than pure poetry that has rejected the word.