Brick / 08.09.2020

Quatrain about the native language for children. Poems about native language. Sayings of poets and writers about the Russian language

Statements about the Russian language:

The Russian language in skillful hands and in experienced lips is beautiful, melodious, expressive, flexible, obedient, dexterous and roomy.

A. I. Kuprin

We have been given possession of the richest, most accurate, powerful and truly magical Russian language.

K. G. Paustovsky

In days of doubt, in days of painful reflections on the fate of my homeland - you are my only support and support, oh great, powerful, truthful and free Russian language!., you can’t believe that such a language was not given to a great people!

I. S. Turgenev

There is nothing sedimentary or crystalline in Russian; everything excites, breathes, lives.

A. S. Khomyakov

The Russian language is inexhaustibly rich and everything is enriched with astonishing speed.

M. Gorky

The Russian language is a language created for poetry, it is unusually rich and remarkable mainly for its subtlety of shades.

P. Merimee

Many Russian words themselves radiate poetry, just as precious stones radiate a mysterious brilliance...

K. G. Paustovsky

You marvel at the preciousness of our language: every sound is a gift: everything is grainy, large, like pearls themselves, and, really, there is another name for the most precious thing itself.

N. V. Gogol

Our beautiful language, under the pen of unlearned and unskilful writers, is rapidly declining. Words are distorted. Grammar fluctuates. Spelling, this heraldry of the language, changes according to the arbitrariness of everyone and everyone.

A. S. Pushkin

We spoil the Russian language. We use foreign words unnecessarily. And we use them incorrectly. Why say defects, when you can say gaps, shortcomings, shortcomings? Isn't it time to declare war on the use of foreign words without much need?

Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

Take care of the purity of the language as a shrine! Never use foreign words. The Russian language is so rich and flexible that we have nothing to take from those who are poorer than us.

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

Use foreign word when there is an equivalent Russian word means to offend both common sense and common taste.

V. Belinsky

In fact, for an intelligent person, speaking badly should be considered as indecent as not being able to read and write.

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

To deal with the language somehow means to think somehow: approximately, inaccurately, incorrectly.

A.N. Tolstoy

Take care of our language, our beautiful Russian language - this is a treasure, this is a property handed down to us by our predecessors! Treat this mighty weapon with respect.

I. S. Turgenev

What is language? First of all, it is not only a way to express your thoughts, but also to create your thoughts. Language has the opposite effect. A person who turns his thoughts, his ideas, his feelings into language… he is also, as it were, permeated by this way of expression.

A. N. Tolstoy

In days of doubt, in days of painful reflections on the fate of my homeland, you alone are my support and support, O great, powerful, truthful and free Russian language! Without you - how not to fall into despair at the sight of everything that happens at home? But one cannot believe that such a language was not given to a great people!

I.S. Turgenev

The Russian language in skillful hands and experienced lips is beautiful, melodious, expressive, flexible, obedient, dexterous and roomy.

A.I. Kuprin

There is no word that would be so bold, brisk, so bursting out from under the very heart, so seething and vibrant, as aptly said Russian word.

N. Gogol

Language is the history of the people. Language is the way of civilization and culture. Therefore, the study and preservation of the Russian language is not an idle occupation with nothing to do, but an urgent need.

A. Kuprin

Russian language! For thousands of years this flexible, magnificent, inexhaustibly rich, intelligent poetic people has been creating ... an instrument of their social life, their thoughts, their feelings, their hopes, their anger, their great future ... The people weaved an invisible web of the Russian language with wondrous ligature: bright as a rainbow after the spring rain , as well-aimed as arrows, sincere as a song over a cradle, melodious ... The dense world, on which he threw the magic net of the word, submitted to him like a curbed horse.

A.N. Tolstoy

To treat language somehow means to think somehow: inaccurately, approximately, incorrectly.

A.N. Tolstoy

There are no such sounds, colors, images and thoughts - complex and simple - for which there would be no exact expression in our language.
… You can do wonders with the Russian language!

K.G. Paustovsky

The Russian language is inexhaustibly rich, and everything is enriched with astonishing speed.

Maksim Gorky

You marvel at the treasures of our language: every sound is a gift; everything is granular, large, like pearls themselves, and really, another name is more precious than the thing itself.

N.V. Gogol

Take care of our language, our beautiful Russian language is a treasure, it is a property handed down to us by our predecessors! Treat this mighty weapon with respect; in the hands of the skilful, it is able to perform miracles.

I.S. Turgenev

It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,
It is not bitter to be homeless, -
And we will save you, Russian speech,
Great Russian word.
We will carry you free and clean,
And we will give grandchildren, and we will save from captivity,
Forever.

Poems about mother tongue: 30 poems about mother tongue for children for International Mother Language Day.

Poems about mother tongue

Today, February 21, the world celebrates the holiday - International Mother Language Day. My native language and teaching children my native language is my profession and my favorite thing in my life. Therefore, I decided to prepare for the holiday for you, dear readers of my site "Native Path", a selection of poems about the native language and native word.

In the article you will find:

poems for preschoolers about their native language,
poems for adults and schoolchildren about their native language,
humorous poems about the native language.

Section 1. Poems about the native language for children of senior preschool age

For a small child, the native language is not a subject for study, but everyday life with its discoveries, joys, pranks, sorrows and adventures, it is a game with words and experiments in word creation.

A. Shibaev. On a sunny July day

On a sunny July day
Flowers, flowers around
My Russian language is beautiful,
Like this summer meadow.
I walk along the narrow path
Trees to heaven!
Mighty is my Russian language
Like this Russian forest!
And in joy and in sadness -
He is with me every hour.
My native language is Russian,
Like a motherland!

M. Matusovsky. Where does the Motherland begin?

Although this poem is about the Motherland, but ... it also talks about a lullaby, and about the first primer, and about communicating with friends - about everything that is impossible without the native language!

Where does the Motherland begin?
From the picture in your primer
With good and faithful comrades,
Living in a neighboring yard.
Or maybe it starts
From the song that our mother sang to us,
Since in any trials
No one can take away from us.
Where does the Motherland begin?
From the treasured bench at the gate,
From the very birch that is in the field,
Leaning under the wind, it grows.
Or maybe it starts
From the spring singing of the starling
And from this country road,
To which there is no end in sight.
Where does the Motherland begin?
From the windows burning in the distance,
From my father's old Budyonovka,
That somewhere in the closet we found.
Or maybe it starts
From the sound of wagon wheels
And from the oath that in youth
You brought it to her in your heart.
Where does the motherland begin?

Our beautiful language

Our beautiful language
Rich and resonant
That powerful and passionate
It's softly melodious.
It also has a smile.
Both softness and kindness.
Written by him
Both stories and fairy tales.
magical pages,
Exciting books!
Love and keep
Our great language!

AT preschool age the kid learns the culture of oral speech in his native language and learns to speak without mistakes. The child learns to listen to the sound of words and to notice expressive figurative words in the speech of the people around him, in fiction. An older preschooler can already be aware of his speech and correct his mistakes in speech.

N. Pikuleva. Favorite word

Who's laying the spoon there?
Know this can't be!
Spoon we on the table put,
And we are waiting for you for dinner.

A. Shibaev. Heed the word

Was
SILENCE,
SILENCE,
SILENCE…
Suddenly
ROOM
GROMA
She has changed!
And now it's raining
Quietly - do you hear? —
CRACKED,
CRACKED,
CRACKED
On the roof...
Probably now
DRUM
He will become…
Already
DRUM!
Already
DRUM!

A. Eroshin. word game

This poem will be interesting for children who are learning to read. After reading this poem, try to find the words playing hide-and-seek.
For example, find what words denoting parts of the body are hidden in the words: fly agaric (ear), patties (ears), animal (belly), beads (moustache), tadpole (head), mitten (hand), Italy (waist).

Not only children
They love hide and seek
Words can also play:
Dawn -
Hidden in CHARGING,
And in the draftsman -
Owl.
Listen to the words for a moment:
in annoyance
The wasp hid.
At the bottom of the basket
napping cat,
And in the pavilion -
Fox.
From buckwheat
Rivers flow out
IN HAZHCHINA
Breams are splashing.
The sheep are hiding
IN WORDS.
So…
Search further!

In many words of the native language, the favorite word of the frog is hidden. Of course, your baby knows this word and can easily find it in other words!

And Yeroshin. wah

The frog likes words
with her favorite syllable "KVA",
Literally every word
where the favorite syllable is present:
Quarter,
equator,
cranberry,
Kvass,
in the apartment
swede
(in reserve)
Quartet,
aquarium,
Moscow…
Undoubtedly, glorious words -
primer,
Quadriga
and square,
but hear me
not happy at all
three hundred and thirty times a day
about watercolor
and scuba,
and antiquarian
KVAshnya!
KVAk can
for days
in the pond
such
Croak
nonsense!
tired of the croaking of a wah,
I put ear plugs in.

Section 2. Poems about the native language for children of school age

For kids school age their native language becomes a subject for study, they learn the history and culture of their native people and find out how the worldview of the people is reflected in its language, learn to express their thoughts competently in writing, respect their native language and strive to develop a culture of speech.

T. Zumakulova Mother tongue

Native language!
He has known me since childhood
On it for the first time I said "mom",
On it I swore allegiance to the stubborn,
And every breath is clear to me on it.
Native language!
He is dear to me, he is mine,
On it the winds whistle in our foothills,
It was the first time I heard
Birds babble to me in green spring.

M. Kryukov. Many languages in the world of different

Many languages in the world of different
I couldn't learn them all
They are all beautiful in their own way.
Each has its own zest.
They speak French in Paris
Berlin speaks German;
My dear, familiar, Russian, is dear to me,
For me, he is the only one.
Melodic, flexible and melodious,
He has fascinated me since childhood.
And not in vain the great and mighty
Turgenev named our language.
Developing rapidly, dynamically,
Absorbing different words.
The new one was great
But the wisdom of the ancestors is alive in him.
Yes, and only our, Russian speech
You can sing free Russia!
Our Russian language will live forever
And I can not, I believe, die!

A. Sumarokov. From the epistles about the Russian language

Our language is sweet, pure, and magnificent, and rich;
But sparingly we bring a good warehouse into it;
So that we do not disgrace him with ignorance,
We need to fix our entire warehouse at least a little.

A. Yashin. Russian language

I love my mother tongue!
It is clear to everyone
He is melodious
He, like the Russian people, is many-sided,
As our power, mighty.
He is the language of the moon and planets,
Our satellites and rockets.
On council for round table
Speak it:
unambiguous and direct,
It is like the truth itself.

F. Tyutchev. We can't predict

We can't predict
How our word will respond, -
And sympathy is given to us,
How do we get grace...

V. Poltoratsky. Word about words

Words are different
The efficient, the idle.
They are honest, truthful.
That flattering, false.
There is a word - consolation
And the word is suffocation.
There are sober and drunk
Foggy, foggy.
There are clean, diamond,
And there are shamelessly dirty,
Some will help straighten
Others - to etch the soul.
There is speech burning with fire,
There is stinking with smoldering.
Words of high valor
And the lowest meanness...
Poet, you are assigned
Sow the soul with seeds.
So this one is nothing but
The purest, the finest.
Not evil, not lascivious,
But kind and truthful.
So that the bread of kindness
Gave the field of eternity.

K. Balmont. I am the sophistication of Russian slow speech

I am Russian sophistication slow speech,
Before me is a friend of poets - forerunners,
I first discovered in this speech deviations,
Perepevnye, angry, gentle ringing.
I am a sudden break
I am the playing thunder
I am a clear stream
I am for everyone and no one.
Multi-foam splash, torn-fused,
Semi-precious stones of the original land,
Forest green May roll calls -
I will understand everything, I will take everything, taking it away from others.
Forever young as a dream
Strong in love
Both in yourself and in others,
I am an exquisite verse.

Yakovenko O. Ya. Russian language

Having started a native word from Cyrillic,
And having studied it from A to Z,
There is no better than the native language,
While the native land sounds.
She sounds Yesenin in verse,
Here Mayakovsky, with a word, cuts the sound,
Beloved Pushkin is with us every day,
Both Fet and Tyutchev, there is no separation from them!
And how many Russian sounds are in the prose,
Tolstoy and Gogol, Sholokhov, friends,
They lead us, in a word, to the joy of consciousness,
That they are all Russian, like me!
I thank Methodius, Cyril
For letters, sounds, euphony of words,
What was instilled in us to the Russian language
Huge, endless love!

A. Akhmatova. Courage (1942)

We know what's on the scales now
And what is happening now.
The hour of courage has struck on our clocks,
And courage will not leave us.
It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,
It's not bitter to be homeless,
And we will save you, Russian speech,
Great Russian word.
We will carry you free and clean,
And we will give to our grandchildren, and we will save from captivity

N. Skakunova. great and mighty

He is also powerful
He's nabaty
sweet-smelling,
And thunderous!
He is majestic
He and the caller
floppy-curly
But relentless!
He is amazing!
And striking!
So amazing
Multi-accommodating!
Everyone who is used to expressing himself on it,
They love our wonderful Russian language!

S. Mikhalkov. Book Lover (fable)

To a friend to pass the time
An uninvited guest has arrived.
"Have you started reading, my friend?" -
He exclaimed and looked around
For complete collected works
Balzac and Hugo, Ozheshko and Dumas,
On new, elegant volumes,
Books of fairy tales and poems
Yesenin and Marshak,
That the shelves occupied almost to the ceiling ...
"I know I'm funny with my question,
You have read them all, you have comprehended all their wisdom.
But how do you get to the top books?”
“Yes, very easy! Vacuum cleaner!
***
I know, sometimes in other houses
They only erase dust from subscription publications.

N. Zabolotsky. Reading poetry

Curious, funny, and subtle:
A verse almost like a verse.
The muttering of a cricket and a child
The writer has comprehended perfectly.
And in the nonsense of crumpled speech
There is a certain sophistication.
But is it possible human dreams
To sacrifice these amusements?
And is it possible the Russian word
Turn into a chirping carduelis,
To make sense a living foundation
Couldn't you sound through it?
Not! Poetry puts up barriers
Our inventions, for she
Not for those who, playing charades,
Puts on a sorcerer's cap.
The one who lives the real life
Who has been accustomed to poetry since childhood,
Forever believes in the life-giving,
Full of reason Russian language.

V. Shefner. The words

Many words on earth. There are daily words
The blue of the spring sky shines through them.
There are night words that we talk about during the day
We remember with a smile and sweet shame.
There are words - like wounds, words - like a court, -
They do not surrender with them and do not take prisoners.
Words can kill, words can save
In a word, you can lead the shelves behind you.
In a word, you can sell, and betray, and buy,
The word can be poured into smashing lead.
But there are words for all words in our language:
Glory, Motherland, Loyalty, Freedom and Honor.
I dare not repeat them at every step, -
Like banners in a case, I keep them in my soul.
Who often repeats them - I do not believe that
Forget about them in fire and smoke.
He will not remember them on the burning bridge,
They will be forgotten by another in a high position.
Anyone who wants to cash in on proud words
Offends the heroes of countless ashes,
Those in dark forests and damp trenches,
Without repeating these words, they died for them.
Let them not serve as a bargaining chip, -
Keep them in your heart with a golden coupon!
And do not make them servants in petty life -
Take care of their original purity.
When joy is like a storm, or sorrow is like night,
Only these words can help you!

G. Tukay. Native language

Oh, how good is the native language, the language of father and mother,
I have learned many things in the world through you forever!
First, in this language, shaking the unsteadiness, the mother sang,
And then - my grandmother tried to appease me with a fairy tale.
Native language, you helped me understand and joy from an early age,
And the pain of the soul, when it gets dark in the eyes, the clear light fades.
You, my native language, helped me to say the first prayer:
“Forgive me, father and mother, be generous, my God!”
translation: A. Chepurov

V. Gordeychev. Native speech

Forged from eternal bronze
eternal Russian pronunciation,
hammered, deep
then akanye, then okanye.
Words in another proverb
sing, not pray.
Words are ringing bells
then - with glasses, then - with glasses. Here is the wand. And the club:
hit - the elephant will fall.
Here is the violin. Or a violinist:
plays - tears are pouring.
And the sounds of rivers are bright!
I love following them.
then complain about Setunya,
then talk to Besed.
Singing - over the trees -
nightingale snaps,
native speech, call
from every name!
You, like the river Rechitsa,
any pain will heal,
your words, prophetess,
murmur - and want to listen.

V. Schaefer. The spoken language is fading away

The spoken language is fading away
Conversational beauty;
Retreating into the unknown
Speeches of Russian miracles.
Hundreds of words, native and well-aimed,
drooping, losing his voice,
Locked up like caged birds
Dozing in thick dictionaries.
You let them out of there
Return to everyday life,
So that speech - a human miracle -
Not missing these days.

S. Skachko. Language

Touch with reverence
To what you are armed
Create light and get drunk
Boundless Russian language
Airy, juicy, tasty,
Severe and gentle, many-sided,
Skilled in all melodies
Our amazing language.
It suits him and the term is narrow,
And an interjectional sigh, and a cry,
Be proud that you understand Russian,
Try to get deep.
It's funny and sad to hear, right,
Like Elochek and Fimok army
To overseas "ings", "shn" and "wow"
They want to press him, groaning.

D. Korotaev. Treasure your family, sweet word

W o u t
Native, sweet word:
M n o g o l and k and m -
Big tongue!
Our life OH -
F u r m e n s —
To all nations
The planets are familiar!
Take care of HIM
From flowery
Foreign
And words alien to us
So that the flow
From adverbs of streams -
Not eclipsed
Rodnica - Rodnikov!
Draw in it
Living force:
Russian dialects,
Songs, poems...
Everything that is expensive
S e r d c u,
To merge
IN LANGUAGE - As the Foundation of Foundations!

S. Abdullah. Learn Russian language

If you want to fight fate
If you are looking for the joy of a flower garden,
If you need solid support
Learn, learn Russian.
He is your mentor - great, mighty,
He is a translator, he is a conductor.
If you storm knowledge steep -
Learn, learn Russian.<
The Russian word lives on the pages
The world of inspiring Pushkin's books.
The Russian word is freedom lightning,
Learn, learn Russian!
Gorky's vigilance, Tolstoy's boundlessness,
Pushkin's lyrics are a pure spring,
The Russian word shines with a mirror -
Learn, learn Russian!
The world of the disunited is joylessly small,
The soldered world is immensely large.
My son, work, be useful to people,
Learn Russian language!

K. Balmont. Language, our magnificent language

Language, our magnificent language.
River and steppe expanse in it,
In it screams of an eagle and a wolf roar,
Chanting, and ringing, and pilgrimage incense. In it, the cooing of a dove in the spring,
The rise of the lark to the sun - higher, higher.
Birch Grove. Light through.
Heavenly rain spilled on the roof.
The murmur of the underground key.
Spring ray playing on the door.
In it is the One who did not take the swing of the sword,
And seven swords in the seer's heart.
And again the steady rumble of wide waters.
Cuckoo. At the well of youth.
Green meadow. Cheerful round dance.
Eve in the sky. In black - the run of lightning.
Bonfire of tramps behind the forest, on the mountain,
About the Nightingale the robber of an epic.
"Ay!" in the forest. Firefly at night.
In the autumn garden, red bunches of mountain ash.
A plow and a sickle with a ringing scythe.
One hundred winters in winter. Agile sleds.
Savraska runs at a meek trot.
A trotter flies like a horse of a winged fairy tale.
Shepherd's horn. Pity until dawn.
Native home. Longing became sharper.
It is nice here. And there, look, look.
We run. Let's fly. Let's go. There. For given.
Chu, the horn is different. It has a mad dash.
Yarit greyhounds and hounds doezzhachy.
Bye-bye. My dear. You fell asleep?
I pray. Pray. Not forever failure.
I will equip you for a long journey.
Out of the tightness, the roads stray.
How good it is to breathe in foreign lands
About him - there, in blue - about his native threshold.
Our snowdrop will always break through its snow.
In the scope of a thunderstorm, lightning bolts interlock.
Didn't our Oleg go to Tsar-grad?
Did not the flight of the Firebird call us at midnight?
And you will go along the path of Yermak,
Before the enemy you will cry out: “Closer, friends!”
An icy river will drown you
But for centuries you will swim in it in chain mail.
Realizing that the speech of river silver
Do not keep in a chained den,
You will go along the path of Peter,
To throw sea spray into the forest and the steppe.
Rattlesnake waking dream
You merge thought and power in a single choir,
Crowning the full-flowing Neva
With the Amber Sea in an eternal contract.
You will find the treasure you were looking for
Fill and sing minds and countries.
Isn't he yours, conjuring Baikal,
Where in the lake under the bottom do not sleep volcanoes?
You have thrown your booming camp camp,
His voice is golden, silver-winged,
To the point where the Pacific Ocean
He bewitched the sunflower forces.
You exclaimed: "Pushkin!" Here he is, the bright god,
Like a rainbow over our pond.
In the dark hour you will fit into a small sigh.
But Tomorrow will rise! With lightning and thunder!

V. Rozhdestvensky. In native poetry, not an Old Believer at all

In native poetry, it’s not at all an Old Believer,
I have long loved old icons,
Their joyful colors are a sublime example
And the flight of Russian beauty is captured.
I know the cherished hymnal for centuries,
I'm used to quench my thirst with native speech,
Where Pushkin's iambs are a swift expanse
It contains the running of a horse and the wisdom of a man.
In the neighborhood of distant words I find kinship,
I like to bring their meaning and distance together,
All the more captivating for my palate
Rumbles of hard "r" and aspirated vowels.
Ring, thunder and sing, magic jet!
There was no such language in the world,
It has a quiet rustle of rye, and the roar of a nightingale,
And the oncoming thunderstorms have a brilliant beginning.
The language of Derzhavin and Lermontov's strings,
You are the flood of rivers that have spread wide,
The spacious rumble of the forests and the birds of Gamayun
Deaf singing in Blok's cello.
God grant that we preserve our great-grandfathers' heritage,
Do not dull your hearing where everything is new to him,
And, having melted the line, wait for bright meetings
With the insight of Pushkin and the colors of Rublev.
In unique, great times
People's prowess, labor and inspiration
God forbid we raise the Russian verse on ramen,
So that his life lasts, and strength, and movement!

Section 3. With humor about the Russian language

I really liked these humorous poems. And I decided to end this article about poems about my native language on a cheerful note. Smile with the authors of the poems :)!

A. Eroshin. Illiterate Pirate

Lived in the world uncivilized
And an illiterate pirate.
Throw trash past the bin
The pirate was terribly happy.
Without any shame
He plundered ships at sea,
And for reading smart books
Didn't work hard.
Once a pirate decided
Bury treasure on the beach
Exactly thirty-three rubies,
Each weighing one hundred carats.
But can't decide:
So that I do not put the abyss,
Put a treasure in the pit for him,
Put or put?
“Suddenly,” he thinks, “for trouble,
Treasure wrong put?
Somehow I, with such a situation,
I’ll go all over the world!”
The sadness of the pirate gnaws,
The pirate put down his knives.
put, or put -
What's the right way, tell me?

G. Graubin. Lazy case

I asked Lezhebokin:
- Come on, tell me.
Why do you hate so much
Don't like cases?
A long time ago, all schoolchildren
They are known by heart.
Learn them in two years
Only you couldn't.
I replied angrily:
- That's not my fault.
Let them scientists first
Names will change.
After all, I'm creative
I do not study on purpose:
Work,
And even more so
I don't want to create.
A case like Dative
I have not been patient since childhood.
give, share something
I don't like with friends.
Prepositional I hate:
Not to learn a lesson
Have to invent
Any suggestion.
And in the accusative case
And at all I am angry:
Father in every prank
Always blames me.
— Yes, alteration, it seems,
Serious need.
And you yourself could new
Come up with names?
- I've been thinking about it for a long time.
taking,
dirty,
lying down,
disastrous,
lazy,
And finally, forgiveness

You will find more poems about the native language in the articles of the site:

If you and your children still have favorite poems about their native speech and native language, I will be very grateful if you share them in the comments to this article!

Thank you for your interest in Russian culture and native speech! Until we meet again at the "Native Path!"

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Collection of poems about the Russian language. Part 1

“If not us, then who will preserve the beauty of the Native Russian language?!”

Chita, 2009

6th grade students

Tikhonkov Ivan

Podlesny Kirill

Veslopolova Valeria

Annikova Sofia

Edited by Buyanova S.V., teacher of the Russian language

Anna Akhmatova

COURAGE

We know what's on the scales now
And what is happening now.
The hour of courage has struck on our clocks,
And courage will not leave us.

It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,
It's not bitter to be homeless,
And we will save you, Russian speech,
Great Russian word.

We will carry you free and clean,
And we will give to our grandchildren, and we will save from captivity
Forever!

VIOLETTA BASHA
RUSSIAN WORD
Hit the Word - a bullet in the temple.
Distant lightning will pull the burning.
Lead shower of machine-gun lines
The turn of the century is torn into pages.

The machine will roar, choking on paper,
In the breaks of the earth's attraction -
Hit - fly - in Cyrillic - in ligature
Soaked in the blood of the Russian Word.

Ivan Bunin

WORD

Silent tombs, mummies and bones -
Only the word is given life:
From the ancient darkness, on the world churchyard,
Only letters are heard.

And we have no other property!
Know how to save
Though to the best of my ability, in the days of anger and suffering,
Our immortal gift is speech.

Moscow, 1915

Nikolay Zabolotsky

Reading poetry

Curious, funny and subtle:
A verse almost like a verse.
The muttering of a cricket and a child

The writer has comprehended perfectly.

And in the nonsense of crumpled speech
There is a certain sophistication.
But is it possible human dreams
To sacrifice these amusements?

And is it possible the Russian word
Turn into a chirping carduelis,
To make sense a living foundation
Couldn't you sound through it?

Not! Poetry puts up barriers
Our inventions, for she

Not for those who, playing charades,
Puts on a sorcerer's cap.

The one who lives the real life
Who has been accustomed to poetry since childhood,
Forever believes in the life-giving,
Full of reason Russian language.

1948

Igor Zhelnov

My homeland is Russian
About timpani and laurels without dreaming,
distinguishing both babble and roar,
I am assigned to Russian poetry.
My homeland is Russian.
In this kingdom, wherever you go,
melodious blue without borders.
This charm of prefixes and suffixes,
this wise power of cases!

And smoke billows over the tripod,
drives away the incompetent,
and Apukhta's passionate three-syllable
the gypsy night breathes sultryly.
Bells will ring with bells -
trio bird! And again silence.
Half-breeds and foreigners
this country is built.
This is autumn with an unexpected blue,
it's a crazy carnival in spring.
It all asks for the soul and the song,
but the Lord gave us a tongue.

But the pogromous time has come,
and with luggage light in hand
I left the vast space
Where they sing in my language.

INGVAR ZHUKOV
WORD
It does not hide for days or years,
Suffering, learning, languishing,
Until the time is painfully silent.
And, suddenly, uninvitedly wakes up,
And the light of the Lord will incarnate.

Fall radiantly on the grass,
On the hills, noisy oak forests,
On hailstones, weights, poles,
With earth, crowning heaven.

It worked in him, like a slave,
Wanting to see space
And at the appointed hour it appeared -
Creation to overcome chaos.

KARAMZIN

I want to write in Russian

While the pen is still in my hand.

How much can I lift

I will unfold the wings of the annals.

And navigating the ship of my soul

In the coming enlightenment of kings.

And with God in our hearts we went into the future!

LEONID KORNILOV
RUSSIAN LANGUAGE

And when the blood rushes under the Adam's apple.
From me, like a pin from a grenade,
Time will pull out the Russian language.
And break with deafening force
Light from the stars, like a flame from candles.
Above a funnel the size of Russia
Russian speech will rise into space.
Silence will cross all boundaries.
And half the world will forget the words.
And the moment of silence will last
Maybe a year, maybe a century, maybe two.
But when purses of shellfish
The world will beat itself to the bone,
He wakes up and remembers the Russians,
About the unmercenary - the Russian people,
Giving away Alaska and the truth,
And rising close to God.
I don't need the last word.
Russian will be spoken.
He is one of ours - the last great
Covers safely waste.
Not icons, but books, like faces,
Remain on the shelves of heights.
What do you want me to say...
As height reigns in space,
So the number of Russian letters in the alphabet
The age of Christ is measured.
With the ancient word, we are merged with the future.
Humanity is our student.
Our reading circle is the earth's orbit.
Our Motherland is the Russian language.
* * *
I foresee what a cry will rise here,
And how many great ones will be offended...
But there is only one genius, it is the Russian language.
Others are yet to come.

Dm. Lavrov

W o u t
Native, sweet word:
M n o g o l and k and m -
Big tongue!
Our life OH -
P r o r o s n o v a -
To all nations
Planets - a sign!

Take care of HIM
From flowery
Foreign
And words alien to us
So that the flow
From adverbs of streams -
Not eclipsed
Rodnikov - Rodnikov!

Draw in it
Living force:
Russian dialects,
Songs, poems ... -
Everything that is expensive
S e r d c u,
To merge
IN LANGUAGE -
Like the Foundation of the Foundations!

I hear the Russian word less and less,
Other words "bloomed".
Like a narrow path
They took me to the edge.

And I don't understand what he's lying about:
Tol broker killer shoots,
Or maybe the other way around.

The cheek is disturbed by a nervous tic:
Saloons, markets and boutique,
Or maybe a boutique is better.

In Russian they groom and scold.
There are no hateful words in everyday life.
Everyone here speaks Russian.

And the speech is linden on the tubercle.
My dog even barks like a dog,
Yes, everything is in Russian.

Our language is our memory
And we can't kill her!
Can't force us
Speak another language!

Nobody, no orders
Do not make us "blow"!
We are firmly connected by Russian speech,
And we can't take it away from us!

Never, will not force
Forget the Russian word
Our language is a connection with Russia,
A strong thread with our Motherland!

About Russian
Reading poems,

I will say: It looks like a golden grove,
From the Baltic to the borders of China,
Answered in Russian...

And it's a pity that the poets are young,
Whose stanzas are of interest
And the writing is pretty good.
Sometimes pearls give out such ...
It's time to open the educational program again!

It is clear: we are all poets here,
Yes, half are geniuses at the same time,
And talent - poke your finger at anyone.

And all this is a huge amount of innovation,
Poetry blockages experimental,

To cover up your ignorance.

I don't call grammar to love

And learn the rules by heart.

But you must respect your native language!”

David Samoilov

And then suddenly you know
What does the native word sound like?
After all, it is not the meaning and sound,
And ducks 1 experienced,
Lullaby base
Our joys and pains.

ALEXEY SERENIN
MY RUSSIAN LANGUAGE...
+++
Oh Great, Mighty, Free My Russian Language!
From Our Ancestors: from Rus, Sloven and Ora,
In the Days of Passionate Russia, You are the only one for me, like a Cry of Conscience,
And Protection in the Days of my heavy Thoughts and Support ...
+++
You are the Language of My Homeland in the Abyss of Accomplishments and Troubles,
Beloyar and Kiy, Vladimir and Gostomysl,
Defeats in discord and Glorious in the Unity of Victories,
And Questions of Cosmic Secrets, and Great Meaning
+++
You are the language of Dostoevsky, Gogol, Chekhov, Ge,
Leo Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky, Repin and Levitan,
Youth Brigades, Cities erected in the taiga,
And Russ Baikonur Cosmodrome in the sands of Kazakhstan
+++
And keeping Your Purity and Truthfulness for centuries,
Both the Russian peasant and the master spoke to You ...
We Remember Royal: “Cedar! How do you hear me?...”,
And "Let's go!" Russian that Gagarin shouted to us
+++
You are majestic for centuries, incomparable, unshakable and holy,
You are the Language of Stalingrad on Fire and the Victory Banner,
On You for Yourself and for the Fallen Our Russian Soldiers,
Signed with the Victory in Berlin on the walls of the Reichstag ...

I want to write in Russian
Everything I think, feel and see
What I love and hate in life
While the pen is still in my hand.

Should I pass the steps of centuries,
Lusting for the whole truth about Russia?
How much can I lift
From the time that sleeps under a bushel of words?

But I am a historian. I will not turn back.
Not knowing the deadlines drawn for me,
Over the homeland, departed from the origins,
I will unfold the wings of the annals.

And navigating the ship of my soul
Through the reefs of unrest, violence and anarchy,
I dare to believe that I will take part
In the coming enlightenment of kings.

I want to tell the people of this land
How the ancestors sinned and created,
So that we all do not forget those lessons
And with God in our hearts we went into the future!

About Russian
Reading poems,
A little familiar with grammar
I will say: It looks like a golden grove,
From the Baltic to the borders of China,
Answered in Russian...

And it's a pity that the poets are young,
Whose stanzas are of interest
And the writing is pretty good.
Sometimes pearls give out such ...
It's time to open the educational program again!

But it may turn out that even the word
Not everyone understands these days.
It is clear: we are all poets here,
Yes, half are geniuses at the same time,
And talent - poke your finger at anyone.

Giving textbooks to a genius is scandalous!
And all this is a huge amount of innovation,
Verses piled up experimental
Looks like it was made on purpose
To cover up your ignorance.

I don't call grammar to love
And the syntax, since you are not connected with them,
And learn the rules by heart.
But still: “You may not be a poet,
But you must respect your native language!”

I hear the Russian word less and less,

Other words "bloomed".
Like a narrow path
They took me to the edge.

From the screen, the announcer "beats" something,
And I don't understand what he's lying about:
Tol broker killer shoots,
Or maybe the other way around.

And, as if, with a hangover, he is sick,
The cheek is disturbed by a nervous tic:
Salons, markets and boutique,
Or maybe a boutique is better.

And only here in the lovely village
In Russian they groom and scold.
There are no hateful words in everyday life.
Everyone here speaks Russian.

Here I understand the hubbub of rooks
And the speech is linden on the tubercle.
My dog even barks like a dog,
Yes, everything is in Russian.

v. Saparovo

Reflection on the great and mighty...

As if - we live in the world,
As if - adults and children,
As if - we think and breathe,
As if - we know how we hear ...
N a m e de l e - in our language
Weed words set infiltrated!

We say so - how we live,
We chew the word "as if"

And when I hear "like"
Yes, even "actually" -
I'm barely holding on

I see a nasty fake
I smell hidden lies
And me from these "how to"
creeps me out every time.

SERGEY SKACCHKO
LANGUAGE
Touch with reverence
To what you are armed
Create light and get drunk
Boundless Russian language

Airy, juicy, tasty,
Severe and gentle, many-sided,
Skilled in all melodies
Our amazing language.

It suits him and the term is narrow,
And an interjectional sigh, and a cry,
Be proud that you understand Russian,
Try to get deep.

It's funny and sad to hear, right,
Like Elochek and Fimok army
To overseas "ings", "shn" and "wow"
They want to press him, groaning.

Russian word

I was a daring defiler of the Russian words,
When I entered his heavenly abode
With a universal roof, with a distance without end,
A tongue-tied apprentice without a Father.
And touched the truth of the "Law",
And the "Grace" of the creator descended from Illarion.
And with Monomakh, "sitting on a sledge,
Think in your souls,” he atoned for his sin.
And along the path of freedom golden
Went, and Daniil the Sharpener harp
He gave me meaningful ones, like Pereslavl,
And I thought in pride - Goreslavl.
In Putivl wept bitterly with Yaroslavna
Over Igor's inglorious fate.
And Sergius of Radonezh in the holy life
The wise Epiphanius sanctified in oblivion.
With the imperishable faith of the priest Avvakum
Burned in the conflagration of the Romanovsky gloom.
In the tavern fight, the bit was Barkov,
Flying under the table like an eagle.
In the rays of odic sovereign speech
He hurried to meet the "archangel" Derzhavin.
In the wild, I drank wine with gypsies,
In the regions where it is joyful,
Where the spirit of the Immortal roams to this day
Along the Bessarabian solar plain.
Soared over Lermontov's stone Caucasus
Under the cloak of clouds with a rebellious tale.
And Tyutchev's nocturnal and prophetic mind
Philosopher
pierced by the universal noise.
I saw myself in it, as in a mirror,
And loved, and secretly hated.
Forgetting the verbs, he feasted with Fet,
He rhymed the heavenly lines with his heart.
Suffered and suffered in the space of Dostoevsky,
Was Mephistopheles from Sluchevsky's space.
Whispered with excitement laments and antiquities
In Olonia
the captives of Fedosova Orina.
And, panting, asthmatically languished,
Where the inflamed Blok swept like a comet.
When the road seemed to end
The miracle of Bunin's style was revealed.
Measured the bottom of Yesenin's binges
And Remizov's antiquity of foundations,
And Pontus Euxinus at night stormy
Bewitched Voloshin rumor.
He grieved where Khlebnikov served as a soldier,
Where, under the starry mound, he was friends with Mozart.
As "Nestor the chronicler of the Mesozoic",
More than once put a noose to the throat,
And wanted to live, and waited for death,
And the moth, like a girl, laughed at me.

And then I'm a humble student
Soul and mind to the lips of the Father,
And the words of the Russian heavenly abode
Began to settle down like a slave and Almighty

Poems about the Russian language

Evgeny Firsov

***

The world learned Russian, but only because
What do Asians say to them?
He threw lies to us, as in a coat wardrobe:
"You alone are to blame!"

And pulling out the Russian, as if in a lotto,
From the common grave of a soldier,
The Balts forgot: he died for what,
And what defilement is fraught with.

Tbilisi and Kyiv, Tashkent, Astana,
And Vilnius, and Riga, and Tallinn
In Russian they taught what it means: country,
When Stalin used to say to them.

In Russian, in the most accessible, simple,
Without falsehood, anguish and mat
I demand to learn: our common home -
Russia, the future is holy.

A whim a day taking times, like that, a hundred,
About Russia, whose destiny is unchanged,
The world will learn Russian not only for
What did Lenin say to them?

F.I. Tyutchev

"We can't predict..."

We can't predict
As our word will respond, -
And sympathy is given to us,

How do we get grace...

I. S. Turgenev

Russian language

In days of doubt, in days of painful reflections on the fate of my homeland, you alone are my support and support, O great, powerful, truthful and free Russian language! Without you, how not to fall into despair at the sight of everything that happens at home? But one cannot believe that such a language was not given to a great people!

June, 1882

A. Shibaev

On a sunny July day

Flowers, flowers around

My Russian language is beautiful,

Like this summer meadow.

I walk along the narrow path

Trees to heaven!

Mighty is my Russian language

Like this Russian forest!

And in joy and in sadness -

He is with me every hour.

My native language is Russian,

Like a motherland!

M. Matusovsky

Where does the Motherland begin?

From the picture in your primer

With good and faithful comrades,

Living in a neighboring yard.

Or maybe it starts

From the song that our mother sang to us,

Since in any trials

No one can take away from us.

Where does the Motherland begin?

From the treasured bench at the gate,

From the very birch that is in the field,

Leaning under the wind, it grows.

Or maybe it starts

From the spring singing of the starling

And from this country road,

To which there is no end in sight.

Where does the Motherland begin?

From the windows burning in the distance,

From my father's old Budyonovka,

That somewhere in the closet we found.

Or maybe it starts

From the sound of wagon wheels

And from the oath that in youth

You brought it to her in your heart.

Where does the motherland begin?

M. Matusovsky

Our beautiful language

Rich and resonant

That powerful and passionate

It's softly melodious.

It also has a smile.

Both softness and kindness.

Written by him

Both stories and fairy tales.

magical pages,

Exciting books!

Love and keep

Our great language!

N. Pikuleva

Favorite word

Who's laying the spoon there?

Know this can't be!

We put the spoon on the table

And we are waiting for you for dinner.

Alexey Eroshin

Illiterate Pirate

Lived in the world uncivilized

And an illiterate pirate.

Throw trash past the bin

The pirate was terribly happy.

Without any shame

He plundered ships at sea,

And for reading smart books

Didn't work hard.

Once a pirate decided

Bury treasure on the beach

Exactly thirty-three rubies,

Each weighing one hundred carats.

But can't decide:

So that I do not put the abyss,

Put a treasure in the pit for him,

Put or put?

“Suddenly,” he thinks, “for trouble,

Treasure wrong put?

Somehow I, with such a situation,

I’ll go all over the world!”

The sadness of the pirate gnaws,

The pirate put down his knives.

put, or put -

What's the right way, tell me?

A. Shibaev

Heed the word

ROOM

She has changed!

And now it's raining

Quietly - do you hear? —

CRACKED,

CRACKED

On the roof...

Probably now

DRUM

He will become…

DRUM!

A. Eroshin

word game

Not only children

They love hide and seek

Words can also play:

Hidden in CHARGING,

And in the draftsman -

Listen to the words for a moment:

The wasp hid.

At the bottom of the basket

napping cat,

And in the pavilion -

From buckwheat

Rivers flow out

Breams are splashing.

The sheep are hiding

A. Eroshin

wah

The frog likes words

with her favorite syllable "KVA",

Literally every word

where the favorite syllable is present:

in the apartment

(in reserve)

aquarium,

Undoubtedly, glorious words -

Quadriga

and square,

but hear me

not happy at all

three hundred and thirty times a day

about watercolor

and scuba,

and antiquarian

KVAk can

tired of the croaking of a wah,

I put ear plugs in.

T. Zumakulova

Native language

Native language!

He has known me since childhood

On it for the first time I said "mom",

On it I swore allegiance to the stubborn,

And every breath is clear to me on it.

Native language!

He is dear to me, he is mine,

On it the winds whistle in our foothills,

It was the first time I heard

Birds babble to me in green spring.

M. Kryukov

Many languages in the world of different

I couldn't learn them all

They are all beautiful in their own way.

Each has its own zest.

Berlin speaks German;

For me, he is the only one.

Melodic, flexible and melodious,

He has fascinated me since childhood.

And not in vain the great and mighty

Turgenev named our language.

Developing rapidly, dynamically,

Absorbing different words.

The new one was great

And I can not, I believe, die!

A. Sumarokov

From the epistles about the Russian language

A. Yashin

Russian language

I love my mother tongue!

It is clear to everyone

He is melodious

As our power, mighty.

He is the language of the moon and planets,

Our satellites and rockets.

At the round table

Speak it:

unambiguous and direct,

It is like the truth itself.

F. Tyutchev

We can't predict

As our word will respond, -

And sympathy is given to us,

How do we get grace...

V. Poltoratsky

Word about words

Words are different

The efficient, the idle.

They are honest, truthful.

That flattering, false.

There is a word - consolation

And the word is suffocation.

There are sober and drunk

Foggy, foggy.

There are clean, diamond,

And there are shamelessly dirty,

Some will help straighten

Others - to etch the soul.

There is speech burning with fire,

There is stinking with smoldering.

Words of high valor

And the lowest meanness...

Poet, you are assigned

Sow the soul with seeds.

So this one is nothing but

The purest, the finest.

Not evil, not lascivious,

But kind and truthful.

So that the bread of kindness

Gave the field of eternity.

K. Balmont

I am the sophistication of Russian slow speech

I am the sophistication of Russian slow speech,

Before me is a friend of poets - forerunners,

I first discovered in this speech deviations,

Perepevnye, angry, gentle ringing.

I am a sudden break

I am the playing thunder

I am a clear stream

I am for everyone and no one.

Multi-foam splash, torn-fused,

Semi-precious stones of the original land,

Forest green May roll calls -

I will understand everything, I will take everything, taking it away from others.

Forever young as a dream

Strong in love

Both in yourself and in others,

I am an exquisite verse.

O. Ya. Yakovenko

Russian language

Having started a native word from Cyrillic,

And having studied it from A to Z,

There is no better than the native language,

While the native land sounds.

She sounds Yesenin in verse,

Here Mayakovsky, with a word, cuts the sound,

Beloved Pushkin is with us every day,

Both Fet and Tyutchev, there is no separation from them!

And how many Russian sounds are in the prose,

Tolstoy and Gogol, Sholokhov, friends,

They lead us, in a word, to the joy of consciousness,

That they are all Russian, like me!

I thank Methodius, Cyril

For letters, sounds, euphony of words,

What was instilled in us to the Russian language

Huge, endless love!

Anna Akhmatova

Courage

We know what's on the scales now

And what is happening now.

The hour of courage has struck on our clocks,

And courage will not leave us.

It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,

It's not bitter to be homeless,

And we will save you, Russian speech,

Great Russian word.

We will carry you free and clean,

And we will give to our grandchildren, and we will save from captivity

Sergei Mikhalkov

True story for children (excerpt)

"Not! - we said to the fascists, -

Our people will not tolerate

To fragrant Russian bread

It was called "bro".

And from sea to sea

The Bolsheviks have risen

And from sea to sea

Russian regiments got up.

We got up, we are united with the Russians,

Belarusians, Latvians,

People of free Ukraine,

Both Armenians and Georgians

Moldovans, Chuvashs -

All Soviet peoples

Against a common enemy

All those who love freedom

And Russia is expensive!

N. Skakunova

great and mighty

He is also powerful

He's nabaty

sweet-smelling,

And thunderous!

He is majestic

He and the caller

floppy-curly

But relentless!

He is amazing!

And striking!

So amazing

Multi-accommodating!

Everyone who is used to expressing himself on it,

They love our wonderful Russian language!

S. Mikhalkov

Book Lover (fable)

To a friend to pass the time

He exclaimed and looked around

For complete collected works

Balzac and Hugo, Ozheshko and Dumas,

On new, elegant volumes,

Books of fairy tales and poems

Yesenin and Marshak,

That the shelves occupied almost to the ceiling ...

"I know I'm funny with my question,

You have read them all, you have comprehended all their wisdom.

But how do you get to the top books?”

“Yes, very easy! Vacuum cleaner!

I know, sometimes in other houses

They only erase dust from subscription publications.

N. Zabolotsky

Reading poetry

Curious, funny, and subtle:

The muttering of a cricket and a child

There is a certain sophistication.

And is it possible the Russian word

Turn into a chirping carduelis,

To make sense a living foundation

Not! Poetry puts up barriers

Our inventions, for she

Puts on a sorcerer's cap.

Forever believes in the life-giving,

Full of reason Russian language.

V. Shefner

The words

Many words on earth. There are daily words

The blue of the spring sky shines through them.

There are night words that we talk about during the day

We remember with a smile and sweet shame.

There are words - like wounds, words - like a court, -

They do not surrender with them and do not take prisoners.

Words can kill, words can save

In a word, you can lead the shelves behind you.

In a word, you can sell, and betray, and buy,

The word can be poured into smashing lead.

But there are words for all words in our language:

Glory, Motherland, Loyalty, Freedom and Honor.

I dare not repeat them at every step, -

Like banners in a case, I keep them in my soul.

Who often repeats them - I do not believe that

Forget about them in fire and smoke.

He will not remember them on the burning bridge,

They will be forgotten by another in a high position.

Anyone who wants to cash in on proud words

Offends the heroes of countless ashes,

Those in dark forests and damp trenches,

Without repeating these words, they died for them.

Let them not serve as a bargaining chip, -

Keep them in your heart with a golden coupon!

And do not make them servants in petty life -

Take care of their original purity.

When joy is like a storm, or sorrow is like night,

Only these words can help you!

G. Tukay

Native language

Oh, how good is the native language, the language of father and mother,

I have learned many things in the world through you forever!

First, in this language, shaking the unsteadiness, the mother sang,

And then - my grandmother tried to appease me with a fairy tale.

Native language, you helped me understand and joy from an early age,

And the pain of the soul, when it gets dark in the eyes, the clear light fades.

You, my native language, helped me to say the first prayer:

“Forgive me, father and mother, be generous, my God!”

V. Gordeychev

Native speech

Forged from eternal bronze

eternal Russian pronunciation,

hammered, deep

then akanye, then okanye.

Words in another proverb

sing, not pray.

Words are ringing bells

then - with glasses, then - with glasses. Here is the wand. And the club:

hit - the elephant will fall.

Here is the violin. Or a violinist:

plays - tears are pouring.

And the sounds of rivers are bright!

I love following them.

then complain about Setunya,

then talk to Besed.

Singing - over the trees -

nightingale snaps,

native speech, call

from every name!

You, like the river Rechitsa,

any pain will heal,

your words, prophetess,

murmur - and want to listen.

V. Schaefer

The spoken language is fading away

Conversational beauty;

Retreating into the unknown

Speeches of Russian miracles.

Hundreds of words, native and well-aimed,

Locked up like caged birds

Dozing in thick dictionaries.

You let them out of there

Return to everyday life,

So that speech - a human miracle -

Not missing these days.

S. Skachko

Language

Touch with reverence

To what you are armed

Create light and get drunk

Boundless Russian language

Severe and gentle, many-sided,

Skilled in all melodies

Our amazing language.

It suits him and the term is narrow,

And an interjectional sigh, and a cry,

Try to get deep.

Like Elochek and Fimok army

To overseas "ings", "shn" and "wow"

They want to press him, groaning.

D. Korotaev

Treasure your family, sweet word

W o u t

Native, sweet word:

M n o g o l and k and m -

Big tongue!

Our life OH -

F u r m e n s —

To all nations

The planets are familiar!

Take care of HIM

From flowery

Foreign

And words alien to us

So that the flow

From adverbs of streams -

Not eclipsed

Rodnica - Rodnikov!

Draw in it

Living force:

Russian dialects,

Songs, poems...

Everything that is expensive

S e r d c u,

To merge

IN LANGUAGE - As the Foundation of Foundations!

S. Abdullah

Learn Russian language

If you want to fight fate

If you are looking for the joy of a flower garden,

If you need solid support -

Learn, learn Russian.

He is your mentor - great, mighty,

He is a translator, he is a conductor.

If you storm knowledge steep -

Learn, learn Russian.

The Russian word lives on the pages

The world of inspiring Pushkin's books.

The Russian word is freedom lightning,

Learn, learn Russian!

Gorky's vigilance, Tolstoy's boundlessness,

Pushkin's lyrics are a pure spring,

The Russian word shines with a mirror -

Learn, learn Russian!

The world of the disunited is joylessly small,

The soldered world is immensely large.

My son, work, be useful to people,

Learn Russian language!

K. Balmont

Language, our magnificent language

Language, our magnificent language.

Chanting, and ringing, and pilgrimage incense. In it, the cooing of a dove in the spring,

The rise of the lark to the sun - higher, higher.

The murmur of the underground key.

Cuckoo. At the well of youth.

Green meadow. Cheerful round dance.

Eve in the sky. In black - the run of lightning.

"Ay!" in the forest. Firefly at night.

A plow and a sickle with a ringing scythe.

It is nice here. And there, look, look.

Bye-bye. My dear. You fell asleep?

About him - there, in blue - about his native threshold.

And you will go along the path of Yermak,

Before the enemy you will cry out: “Closer, friends!”

An icy river will drown you

Rattlesnake waking dream

Crowning the full-flowing Neva

To the point where the Pacific Ocean

He bewitched the sunflower forces.

You exclaimed: "Pushkin!" Here he is, the bright god,

But Tomorrow will rise! With lightning and thunder!

A. Romanov

Russian language! Voiced granaries stock

Assembled by Vladimir Dal for us.

I will only touch his Dictionary,

Mighty Russia will blow into the soul.

Capital letters - what a tower.

The speech is alive - that the power itself.

As if in lightning, look at the pages -

The distance will unfold, the sky will open.

In nests like bees, words will rise.

Honeycombs, wisdom is alive in them.

In the arable land of the pages, suffering will stir.

Each word has its own groove.

Word by word - and speech is heard:

Russia will not bend, never die!..

In terrible turmoil, in need of some

Open this great book...

Leonid Kornilov

I don't need the last word

I don't need the last word.

And when the blood rushes under the Adam's apple.

From me, like a pin from a grenade,

Time will pull out the Russian language.

And break with deafening force

Light from the stars, like a flame from candles.

Above a funnel the size of Russia

Russian speech will rise into space.

Silence will cross all boundaries.

And half the world will forget the words.

And the moment of silence will last

Maybe a year, maybe a century, maybe two.

But when purses of shellfish

The world will beat itself to the bone,

He wakes up and remembers the Russians,

About the unmercenary - the Russian people,

Giving away Alaska and the truth,

And rising close to God.

I don't need the last word.

Russian will be spoken.

He is one of ours - the last great

Covers safely waste.

Not icons, but books, like faces,

Remain on the shelves of heights.

What do you want me to say...

As height reigns in space,

So the number of Russian letters in the alphabet

The age of Christ is measured.

With the ancient word, we are merged with the future.

Humanity is our student.

Our reading circle is the earth's orbit.

Our Motherland is the Russian language.

Valery Bryusov

My faithful friend! My enemy is insidious!

My king! My slave! Native language!

My poems are like altar smoke!

How fierce is my cry!

You gave wings to a crazy dream,

You wrapped your dream in fetters.

Saved me in the hours of impotence

And crushed with excess strength.

How often in the mystery of strange sounds

And in the hidden sense of words

I found the tune of the unexpected,

Poems that took possession of me!

But often, joy exhausted

Ile quiet intoxicated with longing,

I waited in vain to be in tune

With a trembling soul - your echo!

You wait like a giant.

I bow before you.

And yet I won't stop fighting

I am like Israel with a deity!

There is no limit to my perseverance.

You are in eternity, I am in short days,

But still, as a magician, submit to me,

Or turn the madman to dust!

Your wealth, by inheritance,

I, impudent, demand myself.

I'm calling, you answer

I'm coming - you be ready to fight!

But, defeated or winner,

I will fall down before you:

You are my avenger, you are my savior

Your world is forever my abode,

M. Efimov

I studied Russian diligently

I studied Russian diligently,

Befriended him inseparably

He inspired and charmed

With a simple, sonorous speech,

Reading Pushkin's poems

Inhaling the lines of freshness,

With excitement in my heart I knew

How beautifully gentle he is!

Nikolay Zabolotsky

Curious, funny, and subtle

Curious, funny, and subtle:

A verse almost like a verse.

The muttering of a cricket and a child

The writer has comprehended perfectly.

And in the nonsense of crumpled speech

There is a certain sophistication.

But is it possible human dreams

To sacrifice these amusements?

And is it possible the Russian word

Turn into a chirping carduelis,

To make sense a living foundation

Couldn't you sound through it?

Not! Poetry puts up barriers

Our inventions, for she

Not for those who, playing charades,

Puts on a sorcerer's cap.

The one who lives the real life

Who has been accustomed to poetry since childhood,

Forever believes in the life-giving,

Full of reason Russian language.

Mikhail Kryukov

Many languages in the world of different

Many languages in the world of different -

I couldn't learn them all

They are all beautiful in their own way.

Each has its own zest.

They speak French in Paris

Berlin speaks German;

My dear, familiar, Russian, is dear to me,

For me, he is the only one.

Melodic, flexible and melodious,

He has fascinated me since childhood.

And not in vain the great and mighty

Turgenev named our language.

Developing rapidly, dynamically,

Absorbing different words.

The new one was great

But the wisdom of the ancestors is alive in him.

Yes, and only our, Russian speech

You can sing free Russia!

Our Russian language will live forever

And I can not, I believe, die!

Andrey Biryuchkov

I love my Russian language

He is dearer to me in the world,

And I will appreciate it

I want to learn it too.

Mighty, rich language beautiful,

He is all like a clear dawn!

I never slang dirty

I won't pollute it!

Sergei Skachko

Touch with reverence

To what you are armed

Create light and get drunk

Boundless Russian language

Airy, juicy, tasty,

Severe and gentle, many-sided,

Skilled in all melodies

Our amazing language.

It suits him and the term is narrow,

And an interjectional sigh, and a cry,

Be proud that you understand Russian,

Try to get deep.

It's funny and sad to hear, right,

Like Elochek and Fimok army

To overseas "ings", "shn" and "wow"

They want to press him, groaning.

A. Sumarokov

Our language is sweet, pure, and magnificent, and rich

Our language is sweet, pure, and magnificent, and rich;

But sparingly we bring a good warehouse into it;

So that we do not disgrace him with ignorance,

We need to fix our entire warehouse at least a little.

Svetlana Sharova

We'll have no one to blame

What are you used to like the sun -

Great Pushkin language!!!

The price is only money and goods,

And the heart-rending cry is terrible lies ...

And they trample with mud a wondrous gift -

Priceless Pushkin's language!!!

But this is the fear of a temporary worker ...

And the life of a century in the future is a moment!

Coming to the nations for ages

Immortal Pushkin language!!!

V. Gordeychev

Forged from eternal bronze

eternal Russian pronunciation,

hammered, deep

then akanye, then okanye.

Words in another proverb

sing, not pray.

Words are ringing bells

then - with glasses, then - with glasses.

Here is the wand. And the club:

hit - the elephant will fall.

Here is the violin. Or a violinist:

plays - tears are pouring.

And the sounds of rivers are bright!

I love following them.

then complain about Setunya,

then talk to Besed.

Singing - over the trees -

nightingale snaps,

native speech, call

from every name!

You, like the river Rechitsa,

any pain will heal,

your words, prophetess,

murmur - and want to listen.

Violetta Basha

Hit the Word - a bullet in the temple

Hit the Word - a bullet in the temple.

Distant lightning will pull the burning.

Lead shower of machine-gun lines

The turn of the century is torn into pages.

The machine will roar, choking on paper,

In the breaks of the earth's attraction -

Hit - fly - in Cyrillic - in ligature

Soaked in the blood of the Russian Word.

Alexander Yashin

I love my mother tongue

I love my mother tongue!

It is clear to everyone

He is melodious

He, like the Russian people, is many-sided,

As our power, mighty.

If you want - write songs, hymns,

If you want - express the pain of the soul.

Like rye bread, it smells,

As if the flesh of the earth is tenacious.

For big and small countries

He is for friendship

Given to the brotherhood.

He is the language of the moon and planets,

Our satellites and rockets.

On the board

round table

Speak it:

unambiguous and direct,

It is like the truth itself.

He, like our dreams, is great,

Life-giving Russian language!

Yunna Moritz

The language of insults is not a Russian language

The language of insults is not a Russian language,

And Russian is not a language of insults.

And no reboot

The Russian will not be confused.

Loading over or under

You can't go wrong with this kind of language.

He does not surrender the country and subsoil,

I don't fawn on anyone.

He does not give up and does not give up -

He has such a star

In the darkness of the heavenly well,

Where is the Russian speech Christmas.

And this holiday of Russian speech

Created by high depth -

Like the path where the trembling candles

They lead over the abyss of time.

We are not invalids of resentment.

We are in the universal draft

From the Arctic to Antarctica

We breathe in Russian.

Mikhail Lermontov

There are speeches - meaning

Dark or insignificant

But they don't care

It is impossible to take.

How full of their sounds

Crazy desire!

They are tears of separation

They have the thrill of goodbye.

Won't get an answer

Amid the noise of the world

Of flame and light

born word;

But in the temple, in the midst of the battle

And wherever I will be

Hearing him I

I know everywhere.

Without finishing the prayer

I will answer that sound

And throw myself out of the fight

I am towards him.

Konstantin Balmont

Language, our magnificent language

Language, our magnificent language.

River and steppe expanse in it,

In it screams of an eagle and a wolf roar,

The chant, and the ringing, and the pilgrim's incense.

In it the cooing of a dove in the spring,

The rise of the lark to the sun - higher, higher.

Birch Grove. Light through.

Heavenly rain spilled on the roof.

The murmur of the underground key.

Spring ray playing on the door.

In it is the One who did not take the swing of the sword,

And seven swords in the seer's heart.

And again the steady rumble of wide waters.

Cuckoo. At the well of youth.

Green meadow. Cheerful round dance.

Eve in the sky. In black - the run of lightning.

Bonfire of tramps behind the forest, on the mountain,

About the Nightingale the robber of an epic.

"Ay!" in the forest. Firefly at night.

In the autumn garden, red bunches of mountain ash.

A plow and a sickle with a ringing scythe.

One hundred winters in winter. Agile sleds.

Savraska runs at a meek trot.

A trotter flies like a horse of a winged fairy tale.

Shepherd's horn. Pity until dawn.

Native home. Longing became sharper.

It is nice here. And there, look, look.

We run. Let's fly. Let's go. There. For given.

Chu, the horn is different. It has a mad dash.

Yarit greyhounds and hounds doezzhachy.

Bye-bye. My dear. You fell asleep?

I pray. Pray. Not forever failure.

I will equip you for a long journey.

Out of the tightness, the roads stray.

How good it is to breathe in foreign lands

About him - there, in blue - about his native threshold.

Our snowdrop will always break through its snow.

In the scope of a thunderstorm, lightning bolts interlock.

Didn't our Oleg go to Tsar-grad?

Did not the flight of the Firebird call us at midnight?

And you will go along the path of Yermak,

Before the enemy you will cry out: "Closer, friends!"

An icy river will drown you

But for centuries you will swim in it in chain mail.

Realizing that the speech of river silver

Do not keep in a chained den,

You will go along the path of Peter,

To throw sea spray into the forest and the steppe.

Rattlesnake waking dream

You merge thought and power in a single choir,

Crowning the full-flowing Neva

With the Amber Sea in an eternal contract.

You will find the treasure you were looking for

Fill and sing minds and countries.

Isn't he yours, conjuring Baikal,

Where in the lake under the bottom do not sleep volcanoes?

You have thrown your booming camp camp,

His voice is golden, silver-winged,

To the point where the Pacific Ocean

He bewitched the sunflower forces.

You exclaimed: "Pushkin!" Here he is, the bright god,

Like a rainbow over our pond.

In the dark hour you will fit into a small sigh.

But Tomorrow will rise! With lightning and thunder!

Alexey Markov

Oh, how they pacified the French

My freedom-loving tongue!

At first they tried on salons,

But he was not used to salons.

Smelling of gunpowder and sweat

He was exiled to the stable.

Protested there but worked

His blacksmith's good ringing.

And as from a rude dialect,

The dandies fled from him,

Only in girls' songs in the evening

He was on his own.

Spit on royal halls -

There is not even laughter in Russian,

And with him they are related there in scandals,

Only to speak sin.

He is with the nurse at the village

Shelter will find at the chest

And with more power and brilliance

More to come, wait!

The Mongols tamed him,

Whips whipped on the run,

And he without complaints and sadness

He became richer for the evil of the enemy!

The Germans shortened my language,

In the teacher, having made his way to us,

From the words of the peasants they cleared:

Why does Russia need extra rubbish?!

But she cared so much about the Russian

Isn't that why there are an army of scientists,

How should one learn the language?

Yes, few people have a comfortable bathroom

Would you like to make an ocean?

And he is boundless spilled,

Given to the people in possession.

You will never fade

You won't get cold even for a moment.

I bow to you in Russian

The language of my great-great-grandfathers!

Yaroslav Smelyakov

Russian language

At your poor cradle

still barely audible at first,

Ryazan women sang

dropping words like pearls.

Under the dim tavern lamp

drooping wooden table

at a full untouched cup,

like a wounded falcon, coachman.

You walked on broken hooves

burned in the fires of the Old Believers,

washed in tubs and troughs,

a cricket on the stove whistled.

You, sitting on the late porch,

turning the face to the sunset,

took the ring from Koltsov,

took the ring from Kurbsky.

You, our great-grandfathers, are in captivity,

powdered face with flour,

grinded at the Russian mill

visiting Tatar language.

You took a little German

even though they could do more

so that they don't get it alone

the scientific importance of the earth.

You, smelling of rotten sheepskin

and grandfather's sharp kvass,

written with a black torch

and a white swan feather.

You are above prices and rates -

in the forty-first year, then

wrote in a German dungeon

on weak lime with a nail.

Lords and those disappeared

instantly and surely

when accidentally encroached

to the Russian essence of the language.

Zhelnov Igor

I want to write in Russian

Everything I think, feel and see

What I love and hate in life

While the pen is still in my hand.

Should I pass the steps of centuries,

Lusting for the whole truth about Russia?

How much can I lift

From the time that sleeps under a bushel of words?

But I am a historian. I will not turn back.

Not knowing the deadlines drawn for me,

Over the homeland, departed from the origins,

I will unfold the wings of the annals.

And navigating the ship of my soul

Through the reefs of unrest, violence and anarchy,

I dare to believe that I will take part

In the coming enlightenment of kings.

I want to tell the people of this land

How the ancestors sinned and created,

So that we all do not forget those lessons

And with God in our hearts we went into the future!

There are many languages in the world

From different people.

For us, Russian has become native,

And there is none more expensive.

Beautiful, warm and dear,

It warms the soul.

On it we communicate with you,

Reading, writing, thinking

And we express thoughts.

There is nothing more beautiful for us.

We live it, we breathe it.

We live together in Russia

We all learn "Russian" together.

A. Shibaev

On a sunny July day

Flowers, flowers around

My Russian language is beautiful,

Like this summer meadow.

I walk along a narrow path -

Trees to heaven!

Mighty is my Russian language

Like this Russian forest!

And in joy and in sadness -

He is with me every hour.

My native language is Russian,

Like a motherland!

V. Rozhdestvensky

In native poetry, not an Old Believer at all

In native poetry, it’s not at all an Old Believer,

I have long loved old icons,

Their joyful colors are a sublime example

And the flight of Russian beauty is captured.

I know the cherished hymnal for centuries,

I'm used to quench my thirst with native speech,

Where Pushkin's iambs are a swift expanse

It contains the running of a horse and the wisdom of a man.

In the neighborhood of distant words I find kinship,

I like to bring their meaning and distance together,

All the more captivating for my palate

Rumbles of hard "r" and aspirated vowels.

Ring, thunder and sing, magic jet!

There was no such language in the world,

It has a quiet rustle of rye, and the roar of a nightingale,

And the oncoming thunderstorms have a brilliant beginning.

The language of Derzhavin and Lermontov's strings,

You are the flood of rivers that have spread wide,

The spacious rumble of the forests and the birds of Gamayun

Deaf singing in Blok's cello.

God grant that we preserve our great-grandfathers' heritage,

Do not dull your hearing where everything is new to him,

And, having melted the line, wait for bright meetings

With the insight of Pushkin and the colors of Rublev.

In unique, great times

People's prowess, labor and inspiration

God forbid we raise the Russian verse on ramen,

So that his life lasts, and strength, and movement!

Ivan Bunin

Word

The tombs, mummies and bones are silent,

Only the word is given life:

From the ancient darkness, on the world churchyard,

Only letters are heard.

And we have no other property!

Know how to save

Though to the best of my ability, in the days of anger and suffering,

Our immortal gift is speech.

Georgy Graubin

Lazy case

I asked Lezhebokin:

- Come on, tell me.

Why do you hate so much

Don't like cases?

A long time ago, all schoolchildren

They are known by heart.

Learn them in two years

Only you couldn't.

I replied angrily:

That's not my fault.

Let them scientists first

Names will change.

After all, I'm creative

I do not study on purpose:

Work,

And even more so

I don't want to create.

A case like Dative

I have not been patient since childhood.

give, share something

I don't like with friends.

Prepositional I hate:

Not to learn a lesson

Have to invent

Any suggestion.

And in the accusative case

And at all I am angry:

Father in every prank

Always blames me.

— Yes, alteration, it seems,

Serious need.

And you yourself could new

Come up with names?

- I've been thinking about it for a long time.

taking,

dirty,

lying down,

disastrous,

lazy,

And finally, forgiveness.

Andrey Usachev

Great mighty Russian

I showed the language to the Frenchman,

And he showed - French,

And I gave Monsieur in the belly.

We entered into battle with him close,

Rolling, screaming, growling...

But then he showed us English

A cheeky one Englishman.

Then the Frenchman and I got up

And showed two languages.

He immediately got into a fight with us,

And in boxing, he was not weak:

We showed him to the Pole,

Chinese and two Arabs.

Passers-by lifted us up with difficulty...

And we understood, fools:

What are our similar

Grammar

Grammar, grammar -
Science is very strict.
Grammar textbook
I always take it with concern.
She is difficult, but without her
Life would be bad.
How many rules, how many rules!
Unaccustomed to shiver!
Be careful - and only!
You will remember everything, you will understand everything.
I love you grammar!
You are smart and strict.
You my grammar
I'll get by a little!

Russian language
In days of doubt, in days of painful reflections on the fate of my homeland, you alone are my support and support, O great, powerful, truthful and free Russian language! Without you - how not to fall into despair at the sight of everything that happens at home? But one cannot believe that such a language was not given to a great people!
I.S. Turgenev

***
Take care of our language, our beautiful Russian language is a treasure, it is a property handed down to us by our predecessors! Treat this mighty weapon with respect; in the hands of the skilful, it is able to perform miracles.
I.S. Turgenev

***
The Russian language in skillful hands and experienced lips is beautiful, melodious, expressive, flexible, obedient, dexterous and roomy.
A.I. Kuprin

***
Language is the history of the people. Language is the way of civilization and culture. Therefore, the study and preservation of the Russian language is not an idle occupation with nothing to do, but an urgent need.
A. Kuprin

***
Russian language! For thousands of years this flexible, magnificent, inexhaustibly rich, intelligent poetic people has been creating ... an instrument of their social life, their thoughts, their feelings, their hopes, their anger, their great future ... The people weaved an invisible web of the Russian language with wondrous ligature: bright as a rainbow after the spring rain , as well-aimed as arrows, sincere as a song over a cradle, melodious ... The dense world, on which he threw the magic net of the word, submitted to him like a curbed horse.
A.N. Tolstoy

***
To treat language somehow means to think somehow: inaccurately, approximately, incorrectly.
A.N. Tolstoy

***
It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,
It is not bitter to be homeless, -
And we will save you, Russian speech,
Great Russian word.
We will carry you free and clean,
And we will give grandchildren, and we will save from captivity,
Forever.
A.A. Akhmatova

***
There are no such sounds, colors, images and thoughts - complex and simple - for which there would be no exact expression in our language.
… You can do wonders with the Russian language!
K.G. Paustovsky

***
The Russian language is inexhaustibly rich, and everything is enriched with astonishing speed.
Maksim Gorky

***
You marvel at the treasures of our language: every sound is a gift; everything is granular, large, like pearls themselves, and really, another name is more precious than the thing itself.
N.V. Gogol

***
There is no word that would be so bold, brisk, so bursting out from under the very heart, so seething and vibrant, as aptly said Russian word.
N. Gogol

***
The Russian language is a language created for poetry, it is unusually rich and remarkable mainly for its subtlety of shades. - P.Merime

***
Language
Touch with reverence
To what you are armed
Create light and get drunk
Boundless Russian language

Airy, juicy, tasty,
Severe and gentle, many-sided,
Skilled in all melodies
Our amazing language.

It suits him and the term is narrow,
And an interjectional sigh, and a cry,
Be proud that you understand Russian,
Try to get deep.

It's funny and sad to hear, right,
Like Elochek and Fimok army
To overseas "ings", "shn" and "wow"
They want to press him, groaning.
Sergei Skachko

***
I want to write in Russian
Everything I think, feel and see
What I love and hate in life
While the pen is still in my hand.

Should I pass the steps of centuries,
Lusting for the whole truth about Russia?
How much can I lift
From the time that sleeps under a bushel of words?

But I am a historian. I will not turn back.
Not knowing the deadlines drawn for me,
Over the homeland, departed from the origins,
I will unfold the wings of the annals.

And navigating the ship of my soul
Through the reefs of unrest, violence and anarchy,
I dare to believe that I will take part
In the coming enlightenment of kings.

I want to tell the people of this land
How the ancestors sinned and created,
So that we all do not forget those lessons
And with God in our hearts we went into the future!
Igor Zhelnov

***
Our language is sweet, pure, and magnificent, and rich;
But sparingly we bring a good warehouse into it;
So that we do not disgrace him with ignorance,
We need to fix our entire warehouse at least a little.
A. Sumarokov

***
What a sweet poison
circles, sticks, dashes -
drive them left and right
under the rustle of dates on the calendar.

Each letter has a bell
desert world icon,
so that the heart - this shepherd of lines -
they were distinguished from each other.

When Cyrillic chickens
they will run like a paper meadow,
the soul is not so big a price
for this captivity, for this work.

Bring together the disparate parts
all thirty sounds of the dictionary
in one line - what happiness! -
and all thanks to you.

How glad is the silent hermit
palms of warm rain,
so is the poet: he sits, happy,
translating himself into poetry.
Evgeny Tishchenko

See other topics in this section here -

Rating of the best economic universities in Russia Rating of universities in the direction of economics

Embossing Card embossing on the spot

Quatrain about the native language for children. Poems about native language. Sayings of poets and writers about the Russian language