Poems about Motherland
“Who lives well in Russia” and “The Tale of Igor's Campaign” - usually from these works children learn for the first time about the history of their homeland, about the peasant people, about traditions and customs Ancient Russia. Both of them are filled with a feeling of deep patriotism, they glorify the nature of Mother Russia, speak about the Russian soul and the problems of the country. Many poems about Russia for children today are included in school curriculum on literature.
In the 20th century, when the country was brewing October Revolution When there were a lot of problems in the country, poetry for children acquired a deeper meaning, the authors forced them to think about the future fate of the Motherland with their quatrains. Poems about Russia for children during this period were written by Sergei Yesenin, Alexander Blok and Vladimir Mayakovsky. Each in his own way understood the changes taking place in the country in connection with the revolution. But love for Russia allowed them to create a number of wonderful poems and poems.
I will chant
With the whole being in the poet
sixth of the earth
With a short name "Rus".
This poem by Sergei Yesenin is known to every schoolchild, his and other poems about Russia for children are asked by the teacher to teach the children by heart. Most of the works of Sergei Alexandrovich were devoted to his native land, he admired the spikey meadows, sang the harmony of birches and the boundlessness of fields. Yesenin's poems are similar to an oath of allegiance to their Fatherland:
If the holy army shouts:
"Throw Russia, live in paradise!"
I will say: "There is no need for paradise,
Give me my country."
Although the poet was married for some time to a foreign dancer, Isadora Duncan, and traveled with her to many countries of the world, he was always drawn to home, he never wanted to exchange his homeland for foreign lands.
Another great poet, Alexander Blok, was imbued with love for his native land in early childhood. Coming to Shakhmatovo as a child every summer, he fell in love with the beauty of nature. One of his first poems about Russia for children was this work:
Clearly the golden days have arrived.
All the trees stand as if in radiance.
At night it blows cold from the earth;
In the morning the white church in the distance
And close and clear outline.
Blok was a symbolist poet, and he described the Motherland somewhat differently than other authors. For him, it was both a lover and a mother, but he did not seek to personify her as a woman. A whole cycle called "Motherland" was dedicated by the poet to his native country, this includes the works known to every teenager "Russia" and "My Russia, my life ...". One cannot ignore Blok's historical poem "On the Kulikovo Field":
Oh my Russia! My wife! To pain
We have a long way to go!
Our path is an arrow of the Tatar ancient will
Pierced us in the chest.
Each of us knows by heart the work of Vladimir Mayakovsky “What is good and what is bad?” From childhood, but this poet also composed many poems about Russia for children. Let us quote one of the most famous, which is called "Russia":
Here I go, overseas ostrich,
in feathers of stanzas, meters and rhymes.
Hide your head, stupid, I try
in plumage ringing explosion.
This is the beginning, and this is the end of the work:
Well, take me with a vile grip!
Shave the feathers with the razor of the wind.
Let me disappear, alien and overseas,
under the fury of all the Decembers.
Mayakovsky had his own way of declaring love and devotion to the Motherland, although in these lines we do not see descriptions of beautiful landscapes, like Yesenin’s, there are no words “my Russia”, you still understand through the lines what the poet wanted to say. Almost every poet wrote poems about Russia for children, but we can read the brightest works from Afanasy Fet, Fyodor Tyutchev, Alexander Pushkin and Marina Tsvetaeva. "What do we call Motherland?"
What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.
What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.
What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.
© Stepanov Vladimir
There is no better homeland
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
- Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!
© P. Voronko
For peace, for children
Anywhere in any country
The guys don't want war.
They will have to enter into life soon,
They want peace, not war
The green noise of the native forest,
They all need a school, And a garden at a peaceful threshold,
Father and mother and father's house.
There are many places in the world
For those who live accustomed to work.
Our people raised their powerful voice
For all children, for peace, for work!
Let each ear ripen in the field,
Gardens are blooming, forests are growing!
Who sows bread in a peaceful field,
Builds factories, cities,
The one for the children of the orphanage
Will never wish!
© E. Trutneva
About Motherland
What is my homeland called?
I ask myself a question.
The river that winds behind the houses
Or a bush of curly red roses?
Is that autumn birch over there?
Or spring drops?
Maybe a rainbow stripe?
Or a cold winter day?
Everything that has been around since childhood?
But it will all be nothing
Without mother's care dear,
And I'm not the same without friends.
That's what is called the Motherland!
To always be by your side
Everyone who supports will smile,
Who needs me too!
Oh Motherland!
Oh Motherland! In dim light
I catch with a quivering gaze
Your blueberries, copses -
Everything that I love without memory:
And the rustle of the white-trunked grove,
And the blue smoke in the distance is empty,
And a rusty cross above the bell tower,
And a low mound with a star...
My hurts and forgiveness
They will burn like old stubble.
In you alone - and consolation
And my healing.
© A.V. Zhigulin
Kremlin stars
Kremlin stars
Burning above us
Everywhere their light reaches!
Good Motherland the guys have
And better than that Motherland No!
© S. Mikhalkov
motherland
Motherland is a big, big word!
Let there be no miracles in the world,
If you say this word with soul,
It is deeper than the seas, higher than the heavens!
It fits exactly half the world:
Mom and dad, neighbors, friends.
Dear city, native apartment,
Grandma, school, kitten... and me.
Sunny bunny in the palm
Lilac bush outside the window
And on the cheek a mole -
This is also homeland.
© Tatyana Bokova
vast country
If long, long, long
In an airplane we fly
If long, long, long
We have to look at Russia.
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...
We will see the distance without edge,
Tundra where spring rings.
And then we'll understand what
Our country is big
Immeasurable country.
Russia is my Motherland!
Russia - You are like a second mother to me,
I have grown and grown before your eyes.
I go forward confidently and directly,
And I believe in God that lives in heaven!
I love the ringing of your church bells,
And our rural flowering fields,
I love people, kind and spiritual,
Who were raised by the Russian Land!
I love slender, tall birches -
Our sign and symbol of Russian beauty.
I look at them and make sketches,
Like an artist, I write my poems.
I could never part with you
For I love You with all my heart and soul.
War will come and I will go to fight
At any moment I want to be only with You!
And if it ever happens,
That fate will separate us from you
Like a bird in a tight cage I will beat,
And every Russian here will understand me!
© E. Kislyakov
Motherland!
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
© G. Ladonshchikov
Our Motherland!
And beautiful and rich
Our Motherland, guys.
Long drive from the capital
To any border.
Everything around is own, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
rivers sparkling blue,
Blue skies.
Every city
dear to the heart,
Every rural house is expensive.
Everything in battles is once taken
And strengthened by labor!
© G. Ladonshchikov
Hello my homeland! In the morning the sun rises
Calls us to the street.
I leave the house:
- Hello, my street!
I sing in silence
The birds sing to me.
Herbs whisper to me on the way:
- Hurry, my friend, grow up!
I answer the herbs
I answer the wind
I answer the sun
- Hello, my Motherland!
© V. Orlov
What is our Motherland!
An apple tree blooms over a quiet river.
Gardens, thinking, stand.
What a beautiful motherland
She herself is like a marvelous garden!
The river plays with rifts,
In it the fish is all made of silver,
What a rich motherland
Do not count her goodness!
The wave runs slowly
The expanse of fields caresses the eye.
What a happy motherland
And this happiness is everything for us!
© V. Bokov
motherland
If they say the word "homeland",
Immediately comes to mind
Old house, currants in the garden,
Thick poplar at the gate,
By the river there is a shy birch
And chamomile...
And others will probably remember
Your native Moscow courtyard.
In the puddles the first boats
Where there was a skating rink recently,
And a big neighboring factory
A loud, joyful horn.
Or the steppe is red from poppies,
Golden whole...
Homeland is different
But everyone has one!
© Z. Aleksandrova
Hey
Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!
Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!
© S. Drozhzhin
motherland
Touching the three great oceans,
She lies, spreading the cities,
Covered with a network of meridians,
Invincible, wide, proud.
But at the hour when the last grenade
Already in your hand
And in a short moment it is necessary to remember at once
All that we have left in the distance,
You remember not a big country,
What did you travel and find out
Do you remember your homeland - such,
Which one did you see when you were a child?
A piece of land, crouched against three birches,
A long road behind the woods
A river with a creaky ferry.
Sandy shore with low willows.
This is where we were lucky to be born
Where for life, until death, we found
That handful of earth that is good.
To see in it signs of the whole earth.
Yes. You can survive in the heat, in a thunderstorm, in frost,
Yes, you can be hungry and cold
Go to death ... But these three birches
You can't give it to anyone while you're alive.
© K. Simonov
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland
What is this song of weeping birches about,
A melody full of light and tears?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
What is beyond the cold granite borders
Longing for birds flying away for the winter?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
In moments of sadness, in times of adversity
Who will take care of us and who will save us?
Motherland, only Motherland.
Whom in the bitter cold we need to warm
And in hard days we should regret?
Motherland, dear Motherland.
When we leave for interstellar flight
What is our earthly heart singing about?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
We live in the name of kindness and love,
And the best songs are yours and mine -
About the motherland, only about the motherland ...
Under the scorching sun and in the snow dust
And my thoughts, and my prayers -
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
© R. Gamzatov
Where does the Motherland begin?
Where does the Motherland begin?
With smiles and tears of mothers;
From the path, the guys passed,
From home to school doors.
From birch trees standing for centuries
On the hill in the father's land,
Desire to touch with hands
my beloved land.
Where does our Fatherland end?
Look - you will not see the borders,
In the fields the horizon moves apart
With a flash of distant lightning.
And at night in her blue seas
A wave cradles the stars.
There is no edge-end in Russia;
Boundless, like a song, she is.
So what are you. Motherland?
Fields in the copses of dawn.
Everything seems to be very familiar
And look - and the heart burns.
And it seems: you can run
Fly up without fear of heights
And a blue star from the sky
Get it for your native country.
© K. Ibryaev
Immeasurable country.
If long, long, long
we fly on an airplane,
If long, long, long
We have to look at Russia.
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...
We will see the distance without edge,
Tundra where spring rings.
And then we'll understand what
Our country is big
Immeasurable country.
G. Ladonshchikov Our
motherland
And beautiful and rich
Our Motherland, guys.
Long drive from the capital
To any border.
Everything around is own, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
rivers sparkling blue,
Blue skies.
Every city
dear to the heart,
Every rural house is expensive.
Everything in battles is once taken
And strengthened by labor!
Kremlin stars
Kremlin stars
Burning above us
Everywhere their light reaches!
The guys have a good homeland,
And better than that Motherland
Not!
(S. Mikhalkov)
There is no better homeland
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!
(P. Voronko)
Motherland
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
(G. Ladonshchikov)
Hey
Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!
Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!
(S. Drozhzhin)
native country
In a wide area
predawn time
Scarlet dawns rose
over the native country.
Every year it gets better
Dear edges...
Better than our motherland
Not in the world, friends!
(A. Prokofiev)
Ride across the seas-oceans
Ride across the seas, oceans,
It is necessary to fly over the whole earth:
There are different countries in the world
But one like ours is not to be found.
Deep are our bright waters,
The land is wide and free,
And the factories rumble without ceasing,
And the fields are noisy, blooming ...
(M. Isakovsky)
Above native land
Airplanes are flying
over our fields...
And I shout to the pilots:
"Take me with you!
So that over native land
I shot like an arrow
I saw rivers, mountains,
Valleys and lakes
and swell on the Black Sea,
and boats in the open
plains in riotous color
and all the children in the world!
(R. Bosilek)
motherland
If they say the word "homeland",
Immediately comes to mind
Old house, currants in the garden,
Thick poplar at the gate,
By the river there is a shy birch
And chamomile...
And others will probably remember
Your native Moscow courtyard.
In the puddles the first boats
Where there was a skating rink recently,
And a big neighboring factory
A loud, joyful horn.
Or the steppe is red from poppies,
Golden whole...
Homeland is different
But everyone has one!
(Z. Aleksandrova)
native land
Cheerful forest, native fields,
Winding rivers, flowering slope,
Hills and villages, free space
And bell ringing.
With your smile, with your breath
I merge.
Boundless, guarded by Christ,
My native land
My love.
(M. Pozharova)
Motherland
Has its own motherland
By the stream and by the crane.
And you and I have it -
And the native land is one.
(P. Sinyavsky)
Russia
Here the warm field is filled with rye,
Here the dawns splash in the palms of the meadows.
Here golden-winged angels of God
Beams of light descended from the clouds.
And the earth was watered with holy water,
And the blue expanse was overshadowed with a cross.
And we have no Motherland, except for Russia -
Here is mother, here is the temple, here is the father's house.
(P. Sinyavsky)
What do we call motherland
What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.
What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.
What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.
(V. Stepanov)
Key words
Learned in kindergarten
We beautiful words.
They were first read:
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
Spring and summer will fly by.
Leaves become sunny.
Illuminate with new light
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
The sun shines kindly on us.
Blue is pouring from the sky.
May they always live in the world
Mom, Motherland, Moscow!
(L. Olifirova)
Russia cannot be understood with the mind
Russia cannot be understood with the mind,
Do not measure with a common yardstick:
She has a special become -
One can only believe in Russia.
F. Tyutchev
My native land
My native land -
You are dear to me like a mother.
I'm ready to shout to you
That I can give my life for you!
Kremlin stars
Kremlin stars
Burning above us
Everywhere their light reaches!
The guys have a good homeland,
And better than that Motherland
Not!
S. Mikhalkov
My motherland…
My homeland is my fatherland:
Native arable lands and meadows.
Mighty forests and rivers
And my family lives here!
Hills, woods...
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
G. Ladonshchikov
I love my motherland
I love my country
She is truly ready to serve.
And I will not give to enemy enemies,
Walk on your native land!
Motherland
Has its own native land
By the stream and by the crane.
And you and I have it -
And the native land is one.
P. Sinyavsky
Oh my mother Russia...
Oh, my mother, Russia, Russia,
Unshakable is your golden-domed throne,
I love you, I'm proud of you
Long-suffering and sovereign.
Russia, Russia, great power,
Great power, bottomless Russia,
In Russia, in Russia with all my heart I'm in love
And I'll stay with her forever, I swear!
Alexander Cherny
There is no better native land!
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land?
He answered, flying:
There is no better native land!
P. Voronko
Ride across the seas-oceans
Ride across the seas, oceans,
It is necessary to fly over the whole earth:
There are different countries in the world
But one like ours is not to be found.
Deep are our bright waters,
The land is wide and free,
And the factories rumble without ceasing,
And the fields are noisy, blooming ...
M. Isakovsky
native land
Cheerful forest, native fields,
Winding rivers, flowering slope,
Hills and villages, free space
And bell ringing.
With your smile, with your breath
I merge.
Boundless, guarded by Christ,
My native land
My love.
M. Pozharova
RAIN, RAIN, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?..
Rain, rain, where have you been?
- I floated in the sky with a cloud!
- And then you crashed?
- Oh, no, no, it spilled with water,
Dripped, dripped down, fell -
I went right into the river!
And then I swam away
In the fast, blue-eyed river,
Loved with all my heart
Our Motherland is great!
Well, after it evaporated,
Attached to a white cloud,
And swam, I tell you
To distant countries, islands.
And now over the ocean
I'm drifting away with the fog!
Enough, the wind, continue to blow -
You need to sail back.
To meet the river
To rush with her to the native forest!
To love so that the soul
Our homeland is big.
So, wind, my friend,
With a cloud, we hurry home!
You, wind, drive us -
Send the cloud to the house!
Cause I miss home...
Well, I'll shake the cloud!
I'm in a hurry to get home...
I'll be back to you soon!
GO FOR THE SEA-OCEANS
Ride across the seas, oceans,
It is necessary to fly over the whole earth:
There are different countries in the world
But one like ours is not to be found.
Deep are our bright waters,
The land is wide and free,
And the factories rumble without ceasing,
And the fields are noisy, blooming ...
IMMENSE COUNTRY
If long, long, long
In an airplane we fly
If long, long, long
We have to look at Russia.
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...
We will see the distance without edge,
Tundra where spring rings.
And then we'll understand what
Our country is big
RUSSIA
Russia - like a word from a song,
birch young foliage,
Around forests, fields and rivers,
Expanse, Russian soul -
I love you my Russia
I love, I deeply understand
Steppe pensive sadness
I love everything they call
In one broad word - RUSSIA.
MOTHERLAND
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
Oh motherland!
Oh Motherland! In dim light
I catch with a quivering gaze
Your blueberries, copses -
Everything that I love without memory:
And the rustle of the white-trunked grove,
And the blue smoke in the distance is empty,
And a rusty cross above the bell tower,
And a low mound with a star...
My hurts and forgiveness
They will burn like old stubble.
In you alone - and consolation
And my healing.
DOUBLE-HEADED ARMS OF RUSSIA
I read a book yesterday
About the treasures of Russia.
And, seeing the double-headed coat of arms,
I quietly asked my mother:
“Why is the eagle double-headed?
What is a rider on a horse?
I want to know everything in detail!
Tell me, Mommy, to me.
"Our country is great,
For peace to reign forever
A double-headed eagle gazes into the distance,
Protects us from harm.
On horseback - Victorious -
Our holy fighter against evil.
Serpent fierce, big
He killed with his spear.
And the coat of arms of Russia is painted
In red and gold.
Red is the blood of fallen heroes
To live with you.
Gold is our wealth:
Bread, ore, fields, forests.
Just to live richer
It takes hard work and kindness."
I listened to stories
About Russia from ancient days
And I decided - no in the world
OUR EMBLEM
power in various ways
They decorated their coats of arms.
Here is a leopard, a two-headed eagle
And a rearing lion.
That was the old custom,
So that from the state emblems
The animal face threatened the neighbors
Baring all your teeth.
Now a predatory beast, then an evil bird,
Similarity, having lost its own,
They squeeze in their paws, threatening,
A slashing sword or spear.
Where lions have never been,
From the coats of arms lions look fiercely
Or eagles that are not enough
One eagle's head!
But not an eagle, not a lion, not a lioness
Decorated with our coat of arms,
And the golden wreath of wheat
Mighty hammer, sharp sickle.
We do not threaten other nations,
But we take care of a spacious house,
Where is the place under the sky
Everything that lives by work.
Will not be split by the enemy
Union of peoples never.
Hammer and sickle are inseparable
Earth, and an ear, and a star!
MOTHERLAND
I love my homeland, but with a strange love!
My mind won't win her
Nor glory bought with blood
Nor full of proud trust peace,
No dark antiquity cherished legends
Do not stir in me a pleasurable dream.
But I love - why don't I know myself?
Her steppes are cold silence,
Her boundless forests sway,
The floods of her rivers are like the seas ...
I like to ride in a cart on a country road,
And, with a slow gaze piercing the shadow of the night,
Meet around, sighing about an overnight stay,
The trembling lights of sad villages;
I love the smoke of the burnt stubble,
In the steppe, an overnight convoy,
And on a hill in the middle of a yellow field
A couple of whitening birches.
With joy unknown to many
I see a complete threshing floor
Thatched hut,
Carved shuttered window;
And on a holiday, dewy evening,
Ready to watch until midnight
To the dance with stomping and whistling
To the sound of drunken men.
GOY, YOU, RUSSIA, MY NATIVE ...
Goy you, my dear Russia,
Huts - in the robes of the image ...
See no end and edge -
Only blue sucks eyes.
Like a wandering pilgrim,
I watch your fields.
And at the low outskirts
Poplars wither loudly.
Smells like apple and honey
Through the churches your meek Savior,
And buzzes behind the hillside
There is a cheerful dance in the meadows.
I'll run along the wrinkled stitch
To the freedom of the green lekh,
Meet me like earrings
A girlish laugh will ring out.
If the holy army shouts:
"Throw you Russia, live in paradise!",
I will say: “There is no need for paradise,
Give me my country."
SINGING HEAVED DROGES...
Hewn drogs sang,
Plains and bushes run.
Again chapels on the road
And memorial crosses.
Again I am sick with warm sadness
From the oatmeal breeze.
And on the lime of the bell towers
Involuntarily, the hand is baptized.
O Rus - raspberry field
And the blue that fell into the river -
I love to joy and pain
Your lake longing.
Cold grief cannot be measured,
You are on a foggy shore.
But not to love you, not to believe -
I can't learn.
And I will not give these chains
And I will not part with a long sleep,
When native steppes ring
Prayer feather grass.
SLEEPING KOVIL...
The feather grass is sleeping. Dear plain,
And the lead freshness of wormwood.
No other homeland
Do not pour my warmth into my chest.
Know that we all have such a fate,
And, perhaps, ask everyone -
Rejoicing, raging and tormented,
Life is good in Russia.
The magnifying glass light, mysterious and long,
Willows are crying, poplars are whispering.
But no one under the cry of a crane
He will not stop loving his father's fields.
And now that behold the new light
And my life touched fate,
I still remain a poet
Golden log cabin.
At night, clinging to the headboard,
I see a strong enemy
How someone else's youth splashes with new
To my glades and meadows.
But still, crowded that night,
I can sing heartily:
Give me in the homeland of my beloved,
All loving, die in peace!
OH MY MOTHER RUSSIA
Oh, my mother, Russia, Russia,
Unshakable is your golden-domed throne,
I love you, I'm proud of you
Long-suffering and sovereign.
Russia, Russia, great power,
Great power, bottomless Russia,
In Russia, in Russia with all my heart I'm in love
And I'll stay with her forever, I swear!
KEY WORDS
Learned in kindergarten
We are beautiful words.
They were first read:
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
Spring and summer will fly by.
Leaves become sunny.
Illuminate with new light
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
The sun shines kindly on us.
Blue is pouring from the sky.
May they always live in the world
Mom, Motherland, Moscow!
THERE IS NO BETTER REGION
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!
MOTHERLAND
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
RUSSIA
Russia, you are a great power,
Your expanses are infinitely great.
For all ages you have crowned yourself with glory.
And there is no other way for you.
Lake captivity crowns your forests.
The cascade of ridges in the mountains conceals dreams.
River flow heals thirst
And the native steppe will give birth to bread.
We are proud of your cities.
From Brest to Vladivostok, the road is open.
The glorious capital crowns you,
And Petersburg keeps history.
In the land of your wealth, the flow is inexhaustible,
The path lies to your treasures.
How little we know about you.
How much we have to learn.
MOTHERLAND
Touching the three great oceans,
She lies, spreading the cities,
Covered with a network of meridians,
Invincible, wide, proud.
But at the hour when the last grenade
Already in your hand
And in a short moment it is necessary to remember at once
All that we have left in the distance,
You remember not a big country,
What did you travel and find out
Do you remember your homeland - such,
Which one did you see when you were a child?
A piece of land, crouched against three birches,
A long road behind the woods
A river with a creaky ferry.
Sandy shore with low willows.
This is where we were lucky to be born
Where for life, until death, we found
That handful of earth that is good.
To see in it signs of the whole earth.
Yes. You can survive in the heat, in a thunderstorm, in frost,
Yes, you can be hungry and cold
Go to death...
But these three birches
You can't give it to anyone while you're alive.
WHAT WE CALL HOMELAND
What do we call motherland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
We are walking next to my mother.
What do we call motherland?
A field with a thin spikelet,
Our holidays and songs
Warm evening outside.
What do we call motherland?
Everything that we keep in our hearts
And under blue sky
Russian flag over the Kremlin.
HEY
Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!
Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!
ABOUT HOMELAND, ONLY ABOUT HOMELAND
What is this song of weeping birches about,
A melody full of light and tears?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
What is beyond the cold granite borders
Longing for birds flying away for the winter?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
In moments of sadness, in times of adversity
Who will take care of us and who will save us?
Motherland, only Motherland.
Whom in the bitter cold we need to warm
And in hard days we should regret?
Motherland, dear Motherland.
When we leave for interstellar flight
What is our earthly heart singing about?
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
We live in the name of kindness and love,
And the best songs are yours and mine -
About the motherland, only about the motherland ...
Under the scorching sun and in the snow dust
And my thoughts, and my prayers -
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland.
I NEED TO TALK ABOUT RUSSIA
I need to talk about Russia
Yes, so that the verses are pronounced aloud,
Yes, so that you want to repeat,
Stronger than all names to say: Russia!
Stronger than all names to pronounce,
Stronger than mother, stronger than love
And on the lips it is gratifying to carry
To the singing waves that turn blue in the distance.
More than once I was alone with you,
Asked for participation, demanded advice,
And you have always been my destiny
My star, unique light.
He shone to me from my mother's eyes,
And entered my chest, and entered my blood,
And if he went out in my chest,
That heart would have broken at the same moment!
IN A WIDE SPACE
In a wide area
predawn time
Scarlet dawns rose
over the native country.
Every year it gets better
Dear edges...
Better than our motherland
FOR PEACE, FOR CHILDREN
Anywhere in any country
The guys don't want war.
They will have to enter into life soon,
They want peace, not war
The green noise of the native forest,
They all need a school
And the garden at the peaceful threshold,
Father and mother and father's house.
There are many places in the world
For those who live accustomed to work.
For all children, for peace, for work!
Let each ear ripen in the field,
Gardens are blooming, forests are growing!
Who sows bread in a peaceful field,
Builds factories, cities,
The one for the children of the orphanage
Oh RUSSIA!
Oh Russia!
With a difficult fate, the country ...
I have you, Russia,
Like a heart, alone.
I will tell a friend
I will tell the enemy
Without you,
Like without a heart
I can't live...
If long, long, long
In an airplane we fly
If long, long, long
We have to look at Russia.
We'll see then
Both forests and cities
ocean spaces,
Ribbons of rivers, lakes, mountains ...
You are beautiful, fields of the native land,
Even more beautiful are your bad weather;
Winter is similar in it to the first winter
As with the first people of her peoples! ..
Fog here dresses the sky vaults!
And the steppe spread out in a lilac shroud,
And so she is fresh, and so kindred with a soul,
As if it was created only for freedom ...
Kremlin stars
Burning above us
Everywhere their light reaches!
The guys have a good homeland,
And better than that Motherland
Not!
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
Hello, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!
Hello, dear people,
Hero of labor tireless,
In the middle of winter and in the summer heat!
Hello, my native land!
In a wide area
predawn time
Scarlet dawns rose
over the native country.
Every year it gets better
Dear edges...
Better than our motherland
Not in the world, friends!
Ride across the seas, oceans,
It is necessary to fly over the whole earth:
There are different countries in the world
But one like ours is not to be found.
Deep are our bright waters,
The land is wide and free,
And the factories rumble without ceasing,
And the fields are noisy, blooming ...
Airplanes are flying
over our fields...
And I shout to the pilots:
"Take me with you!
So that over native land
I shot like an arrow
saw rivers, mountains,
Valleys and lakes
and swell on the Black Sea,
and boats in the open
plains in riotous color
and all the children in the world!
Zhura-zhura-crane!
He flew over a hundred lands.
Flew, circled
Wings, legs worked hard.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land? -
He answered, flying:
- There is no better native land!
hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
native, green
Our land.
The land where I made
Your first step
Where did you ever go out
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that it
expanse of fields -
Particle of the great
My fatherland.
song swallows
Above my window
Sculpt, sculpt a nest...
I know, soon in it
The chicks will appear
They will start to vote
They will be parents
Moscara to wear.
Little ones flutter
From the nest in summer
Fly over the world
But they always
They will know and remember
What is in the native land
The nest will greet them
Above my window.
Motherland is a big, big word!
Let there be no miracles in the world,
If you say this word with soul,
It is deeper than the seas, higher than the heavens!
Flocks of birds. Road tape.
Fallen wattle.
From the foggy sky
Sadly looks dim day
A row of birches, and the view is dull
Roadside pole.
As if under the yoke of heavy sorrow,
The hut rocked.
Half-light and half-darkness, -
And involuntarily rush into the distance,
And involuntarily crushes the soul
Endless sadness.
You are extraordinary even in a dream.
I won't touch your clothes.
I doze - and behind the slumber is a mystery,
And in secret - you will rest, Russia.
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