Autumn
Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
My heart became sadder.
Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.
The sun laughs less
There is no incense in flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.
Autumn
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.
Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.
A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..
Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
Already the sky was breathing in autumn
... Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
With a sad noise she was naked,
Fog fell on the fields
Noisy geese caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.
Is in the autumn of the original
Is in the autumn of the original
Short but wonderful time -
The whole day stands as if crystal,
And radiant evenings ...
Where a peppy sickle walked and an ear fell,
Now everything is empty - space is everywhere -
Only cobwebs of thin hair
Shines on an idle furrow.
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But far from the first winter storms -
And pure and warm azure pours
To the resting field...
Autumn
Covers a golden leaf
Wet ground in the forest...
I boldly trample with my foot
Spring forest beauty.
Cheeks burn with cold;
I like to run in the forest,
Hear the branches crack
Leaves with your foot ***!
I have no former pleasures here!
The forest has taken a secret from itself:
The last nut is plucked
Tied the last flower;
Moss is not raised, not blown up
A pile of curly mushrooms;
Purple lingonberry brushes;
Long on the leaves, lies
The nights are frosty, and through the forest
Looks cold somehow
Clear skies...
Leaves rustle under foot;
Death spreads its harvest...
Only I have a cheerful soul
And like crazy, I sing!
I know, not without reason among the mosses
I tore an early snowdrop;
Down to autumn colors
Every flower I have met.
What the soul told them
I remember, breathing happiness,
In winter nights and days!
Leaves rustle underfoot...
Death spreads its harvest!
Only I am cheerful in soul -
And like crazy, I sing!
Expectation
A naked forest is waiting for snow,
Tired of autumn for a long time.
The low vault of heaven is gray,
A fallen leaf whispers sadly ...
"When will the snow start?"
Magpies crackle in the fieldfare.
The berries burn with a blush,
Like frosty cheeks in the morning.
Waiting for snow now kids
She needs winter fun.
And the whole day: “Por-ra! Por-ra!”
Crow croaks burr
Sparrow
Autumn looked into the garden -
The birds have flown away.
Outside the window rustling in the morning
Yellow blizzards.
Under the feet of the first ice
Crumbles, breaks.
The sparrow in the garden will sigh
And sing -
He is shy.
gold autumn
Autumn. Fairy tale,
All open for review.
clearings of forest roads,
Looking into the lakes
Like in an art exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm, ash, aspen
Unprecedented in gilding.
Bad weather
The leaves trembled, flying around,
The clouds of the sky covered the beauty
From the field a storm, bursting, angry
Tears, and rushes, and howls in the forest.
Only you, my dear bird,
Barely visible in the warm nest
Svetlogruda, light, small,
She is not afraid of the storm.
And the roll call thunders,
And the noisy haze is so black...
Only you, my dear bird,
Barely visible in a warm nest.
True omen
The wind drives the clouds
The wind in the pipes groans,
Rain slanting, cold
It knocks on the glass.
Puddles on the roads
Wrinkle from the cold,
Hiding under a canopy
true omen,
That the summer is passing
What mushrooms are asking for
What's in a hurry with gifts
Bright autumn again
What is missing at school
Sad rooks.
Themselves in the box,
Talker-call.
Sad time! Oh charm!
Sad time! Oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.
Autumn
Autumn quietly appeared like a swan,
She dressed up in a yellow dress.
I took brushes with orange paint,
I started painting trees and grass.
Gray painted the clouds in the sky,
White - the fog that floats at dawn.
For the spiders here is a ball of silver
So that the cobweb shone in the morning.
Sprinkled drops of water with a brush -
It's the September sky rains.
Freshness in the air added a smell,
She hid the mushrooms for the Christmas trees under her paws.
How many worries this beauty has!
She needs to change everything after the summer.
Autumn seamstress
So that the little earth winters without hassle,
Autumn sews a patchwork quilt for her.
The leaf is neatly sewn to the leaf,
The stitch adjusts with a pine needle.
Leaves to choose from - any will come in handy.
Here next to the crimson lilac lies down,
Although very golden to the taste of the seamstress,
Will fit and brown, and even spotted.
The thread of the web fastens them carefully.
More beautiful than this, you will not find pictures.
gold autumn
Autumn. golden rain -
Specie!
- Summer, wait! Wait!
I'll pay for it!
Well, stay a little longer!
Wait a little!
Your path will be golden!
Golden Road!
You will eat on gold
Gold clothes!
Will become a gold leaf
Golden cover!
I'll spoil you all!
Isn't that enough?
- You know, autumn,
Summer replied,
I like green color
Do not litter in vain
Wait for Silver Coins
On a new day, rainy.
I don't want, -
AUTUMN
Autumn is a yellow word of a yellow picture,
Because the leaves on the aspen turned yellow!
Autumn is an affectionate word, warm days,
Because the sun is friends with a light breeze!
Autumn is a delicious word, jam is being cooked,
Because there are a lot of fruits, a lot of treats!
Autumn is a joyful word, friends meet again,
Because back to school - that's how it goes!
OCTOBER
October creeps along the paths
Steps quietly after the sun.
Mushrooms and berries in a basket.
And September he sends greetings!
In a crimson velvet coat,
From the leaves of the hat on one side,
He will be with us for a whole month.
Meet the dawn, and the night, and the day.
He will fulfill the will of autumn -
Color the field, meadow and forest.
And fill the world with beauty!
And invite you to Wonderland!
Late fall
We removed in November
All dry leaves.
It became quiet in the yard
Festive and clean.
A quiet pond falls asleep
The flowerbeds are empty
The birds don't sing anymore
They flew south.
In purity and silence
Autumn is resting
Day after day she is Winter
The place is giving way.
NOVEMBER
November is a hunchbacked old man,
Eyes - like ice, nose - a hook!
The look is dissatisfied and prickly,
Cold month, clouds in the sky.
Seeing off the golden autumn
And meets the white winter!
He changes heat to cold
And tired - no longer young!
But the north wind will help:
Will pluck the leaves, put them in the carpet,
Will cover the earth with a veil,
That would not freeze until spring!
Such a different autumn
What a different autumn!
Now gloomy, now clear
That bright, happy,
It's grey, sad.
Blossom in the flowerbed joyfully
Last flowers...
What a different autumn!
Just like me and you.
Autumn miracle
What is the miracle of miracles?
We have come to the autumn forest!
In summer, both oaks and maples
They were green leaves.
Leaves are colored:
pink, gold,
Brown and red -
Different-excellent!
Maybe a rainbow from heaven
Invited Autumn to the forest?
autumn leaf
Outside the window, the autumn leaf turned yellow,
Broke off, spun, flew.
The yellow leaf made friends with the breeze,
Everyone is spinning and playing under the window.
And when the cheerful wind flew away,
The yellow leaf on the asphalt got bored.
I went into the yard and picked up a leaf,
I brought it home and gave it to my mom.
You can't leave him outside.
Let him live all winter with me.
Autumn
Beautiful leaves fly under your feet,
Arranged autumn in the garden leaf fall.
Here are birch leaves, here are aspen leaves,
Here the rowan leaves are spinning in a waltz.
And the cranes fly in the sky,
And they sing a sad song.
We will wave goodbye to them,
But we do not say goodbye, autumn, with you!
Autumn
On a bush-bush -
yellow leaves,
A cloud hangs in the blue, -
So it's time for autumn!
In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag.
Our autumn park has become stricter.
All covered in bronze!
Autumn seems to me too
Getting ready for October...
In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag!
Glorious autumn
And moss swamps, and stumps - Everything is fine under the moonlight,
Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;
Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.
Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
Everywhere I recognize dear Russia,
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
Clear, quiet days...
I think my mind...
sad rain
September is suddenly sad
The rain invited me to visit
He led all the birds to the south.
The rain is something despondent,
Sounds slapping through the puddles,
And he doesn't need anyone.
He's been crying since morning
Autumn is a sad time.
AUTUMN MIRACLE
It's autumn now, bad weather.
Rain and slush. Everyone is sad:
Because with the hot summer
They don't want to break up.
The sky is crying, the sun is hiding
The wind sings mournfully.
We made a wish:
Let summer come to us again.
And this wish came true
Having fun kids:
Miracle now - Indian summer,
It's hot in the middle of autumn!
Uncompressed strip
Late fall. The rooks flew away
The forest is bare, the fields are empty,
Only one strip is not compressed ...
She makes a sad thought.
It seems that the ears whisper to each other:
"It's boring for us to listen to the autumn blizzard,
It's boring to bend down to the ground,
Fat grains bathed in dust!
We are being ruined by the villages every night
Every flying gluttonous bird,
The hare tramples us, and the storm beats us...
Where is our plowman? what else is waiting for?
Or are we born worse than others?
Or unfriendly blossomed-eared?
Not! we are no worse than others - and for a long time
Grain has been poured and ripened in us.
Not for the same he plowed and sowed
So that the autumn wind will dispel us? .. "
The wind brings them a sad answer:
- Your plowman has no urine.
He knew why he plowed and sowed,
Yes, he started the work beyond his strength.
Poor poor fellow - does not eat or drink,
The worm sucks his sick heart,
The hands that brought these furrows,
They dried up to a chip, hung like whips.
The eyes dimmed and the voice disappeared,
That a mournful song sang,
Like on a plow, leaning on your hand,
The plowman thoughtfully walked in a lane.
So the beautiful autumn comes into its own with small steps, pushing the summer back. In the mornings it became fresh and cool, and in the afternoon the sun no longer has time to warm the air. It becomes very beautiful on the streets of the city and on the alleys of parks and squares. Trees and shrubs change their color: here and there, among the green foliage, yellow, orange spots flash.
Do not pass by the autumn beauty - stop, draw your child's attention to the charm of the surrounding nature, to the riot of autumn colors. Observe, talk about what changes have occurred in nature, what your baby has seen new. If it is difficult, show, tell verses about autumn.
I offer a selection of poems about autumn. Read a few verses to your son or daughter, and memorize the one that you especially like!
Autumn
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.
Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.
A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..
Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
A. Pleshcheev
Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
My heart became sadder.
Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.
The sun laughs less
There is no incense in flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.
Konstantin Balmont
Summer is ending
Summer is ending
Summer is ending
And the sun don't shine
And hiding somewhere.
And the rain is a first grader,
A little shy
In oblique line
Lining the window.
I. Tokmakova
leaf fall
Forest, like a painted tower,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
It stands over a bright meadow.
Birches with yellow carving
Shine in blue azure,
Like towers, Christmas trees darken,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there in the foliage through
Clearances in the sky, that windows.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
During the summer it dried up from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He enters his motley tower ...
Ivan Bunin
autumn
When the through web
Spreads the threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant Annunciation is more audible,
We are not sad, afraid again
Breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer lived
We understand more clearly.
Athanasius Fet
Autumn
I walk, I'm sad alone:
Autumn is around.
Yellow leaf in the river
Summer is gone.
G. Novitskaya
For the winter
A rustling string
Following the sun
Birds fly over us
To the far side.
They fly to winter.
And in the yard, in the cold,
clothespins on a rope,
Like swallows on a wire.
Carpet tracks
Somewhere behind the autumn clouds
The crane hushed up the conversation.
On the paths where the summer ran,
Multi-colored carpet lay down.
The sparrow was sad outside the window,
Unusually quiet at home.
On autumn carpets
Winter is slowly coming.
V. Orlov
Autumn leaves
Empty birdhouse,
The birds have flown
Leaves on the trees
It also doesn't fit.
All day today
Everyone is flying, flying...
Apparently, also in Africa
They want to fly.
I. Tokmakova
Sparrow
Autumn looked into the garden
The birds have flown away.
Outside the window rustling in the morning
Yellow blizzards.
Under the feet of the first ice
Crumbles, breaks.
The sparrow in the garden will sigh
And sing -
He is shy.
V.Stepanov
Autumn has come
Autumn has come
It started to rain.
How sad is
Gardens look.
The birds were reaching out
To warm climes.
A farewell is heard
The scream of a crane.
The sun does not pamper
Us with their warmth.
Northern, frosty
Blows cold.
It's very sad
Sad at heart
Because it's summer
Do not return already.
E. Arsenina
AUTUMN MIRACLE
It's autumn now, bad weather.
Rain and slush. Everyone is sad:
Because with the hot summer
They don't want to break up.
The sky is crying, the sun is hiding
The wind sings mournfully.
We made a wish:
Let summer come to us again.
And this wish came true
Having fun kids:
Miracle now - Indian summer,
It's hot in the middle of autumn!
N. Samoniy
sad autumn
Leaves flew away
Follow the birds.
I am red autumn
I miss you day by day.
The sky is sad
The sun is sad...
It's a pity that autumn is warm
It doesn't last long!
N. Samoniy
Complains, cries
Autumn outside the window
And hides tears
Under someone else's umbrella...
Sticks to passers-by
Bores them -
different, different,
Sleepy and sick...
That makes you tedious
windy longing,
That breathes a cold
Moist city...
What do you need
Weird madam?
And in response - annoying
Whip on wires...
A. Herbal
autumn wind
The wind raises a storm
Throwing the day at your feet;
Leaves fly away
To low clouds.
Soared yellow wall
Tornado swirling,
They pull you into the air
Filled the world.
Only one interrupted the circle:
autumn fire
About winter warning
Suddenly burned his hand.
Holding him back a little
In a swirl of others
I let go again on the road -
Catch up with yours!
Olga Bagaeva
autumn girl
autumn girl
With a red umbrella
Wandering among the pines
Crying about
What didn't happen
What didn't come true
Forgotten by the heart
It has grown with the summer...
A. Herbal
Autumn is coming
Gradually getting colder
And the days got shorter.
Summer is running fast
A flock of birds, flashing in the distance.
Already the rowans have turned red,
The grass has become withered
Appeared on the trees
Bright yellow foliage.
In the morning the fog swirls
Motionless and gray-haired,
And by noon the sun warms
Like a hot summer day.
But the wind barely blows
And autumn leaves
Flickers in a bright dance
Like sparks from a fire.
"Autumn" Alexey Pleshcheev
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
Analysis of Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn"
The beauty of autumn has been sung by Russian poets more than once in their works. For some, this time of the year was “charm to the eyes”, for others, like N. A. Nekrasov, it gave vivacity, for others, for example, for K. D. Balmont, it was a carnival bright colors. For Alexei Nikolaevich Pleshcheev (1825 - 1893) it was a dreary time, which he informs the reader about in his 1863 poem.
What distinguishes the work of Alexei Nikolaevich "Autumn" from other autumns is his attitude towards it. For a poet, this is not just a complex complex weather phenomena, characterized by the withering of nature and the gradual onset of cold weather. Autumn Pleshcheeva is, rather, an old friend, a living being. The poet addresses her in a poem, as if to a person: “I recognize you, the time is dull ...”
Describing the autumn heroine, the author uses such epithets as “pale days”, “faded leaves”, “rainy dark nights”, “endless clouds”. A bleak landscape is drawn in the reader's imagination. Instead of the picturesque colors that other writers endowed autumn, Alexei Nikolaevich uses a gloomy color - his yellow is not sunny and bright, but painful and dull. With this color, the author paints drooping bushes in a damp field. If in other works there are magnificent images of variegated autumn leaf fall, then in Pleshcheev’s leaves lifelessly “fall from the tree”.
The next stanza begins with the same phrase that opened the first. But it belongs to another phenomenon. Although it is described in the same shades as autumn, the poet speaks of old age:
I recognize you, the time is dull,
The time of heavy and bitter worries ...
Now it becomes clear to the reader why the poet dislikes autumn so much. This time of year is tantamount to old age. Parallels are felt in the lines: faded leaves - gray hair showing through, heavy clouds - endless worries, drooping bushes - "deadly doubt oppresses" the heart. The author compares the destruction of nature with the destruction of a man who has entered the time of decay. In autumn, there is nothing beautiful for him. This time is filled with a premonition of death, which is why the poet ends the poem with an epiphora, slightly changing the phrase from the first stanza: “Old age is boring! .. Yes, it’s you!”
Poems about autumn by A.N. Pleshcheev are especially dear to our hearts. What are you, autumn, in a hurry to come so early? The heart still asks for warmth and light. Birdies! We are sorry for your sonorous songs. Don't fly to warmer climes, wait!
"Autumn song"
The summer has passed
Autumn has come.
In fields and groves
Empty and dull.
The birds have flown
The days got shorter
The sun is not visible
Dark, dark nights.
Alexei Nikolaevich Pleshcheev, a descendant of an old Russian noble family, was born on November 22, 1825 in Kostroma. He spent his childhood in Nizhny Novgorod where the father brought the two-year-old boy. In 1838, the young Pleshcheev went to St. Petersburg, where he entered the University.
"Children and Bird"
"Bird! We are sorry for your ringing songs!
Don’t fly away from us… Wait!”
"Lovely little ones! From your side
Colds and rains drive me.
Out in the trees, on the roof of the gazebo
How many friends are waiting for me!
Tomorrow you will still sleep, children,
And we're all heading south.
There is no cold now, no rain,
The wind does not tear the leaves from the branches,
The sun doesn't hide in the clouds...
“Soon, birdie, will you return to us?”
"I am with a stock of new songs
I will return to you when from the fields
The snow will come down when in the ravine
Bubbling, shining, stream-
And start under the spring sun
All nature come alive...
I'll be back when, little ones,
You will be reading!”
Leaving the University, Pleshcheev devotes himself to literary activity, first as a poet, and then as a prose writer. His first poems and stories were published in the Notes of the Fatherland in 1847 and 1848.
"Autumn"
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And look sad
Bare bushes.
Wither and turn yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.
A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..
Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
Many hardships befell the Russian poet Pleshcheev. Need, constantly pursuing him, undermined his health.
His meek muse never lied, and this was her great merit. Pleshcheev was not looking for popularity. She herself went to him. From his personality emanated warmth, truthfulness. How was it not to love his poetry? The sounds of his songs came straight from the heart.
"Autumn"
I recognize you, the time is dull:
These short, pale days
Long nights, rainy, dark,
And destruction everywhere you look.
Faded leaves fall from the tree,
In the field, turning yellow, the bushes drooped;
Endless clouds float across the sky...
Autumn is boring! .. Yes, it's you!
I recognize you, the time is dull,
Time of heavy and bitter worries:
The heart that once loved so passionately
Presses the deadening doubt oppression;
Extinguish in it quietly one after another
Youth proud holy dreams,
And gray hair breaks through ...
Boring old age!.. Yes, it's you!
"A boring picture..."
Boring picture!
Clouds without end
The rain is pouring down
Puddles on the porch…
stunted rowan
Wet under the window
Looks village
Gray spot.
What are you visiting early
Autumn, come to us?
Still asks the heart
Light and warmth!
1860
There is probably no such person in Russia who from childhood did not remember at least the first four lines of one of the most famous poems about autumn:
1 Autumn has come,
2 dried flowers,
3 And they look sad
4 bare bushes.
5 Fading and turning yellow
6 Grass in the meadows,
7 Only turns green
8 Winter in the fields.
9 A cloud covers the sky,
10 The sun does not shine,
11 The wind howls in the field,
12 It's raining.
13 Noisy water
14 fast stream,
15 The birds have flown away
16 To warmer climes.
And in many anthologies, since the 1960s. (Chrestomathy for older children up to school age: For reading, storytelling and children's amateur performances / Comp. R.I. Zhukovskaya, L.A. Penevskaya. M.: Education, 1968. S. 133; Reader for older children preschool age/ Comp. R.I. Zhukovskaya, L.A. Penevskaya. 2nd ed., revised and enlarged. M.: Education, 1972. S. 135; Seasons. Reader for the little ones / Compiled by B.G. Sviridov. Rostov n/D, 2000, p. 10), and on various Internet resources Aleksey Nikolaevich Pleshcheev is named as the author of this work. The problem, however, lies in the fact that none of the collected works of A.N. Pleshcheev of the 19th - 20th centuries, as well as in the volume of the Poet's Library, does not contain this poem. It is not included in the composition of Pleshcheev's prose and dramatic works, as well as among translations.
Therefore, the tasks arose, firstly, to find the real author, secondly, to determine who, when and under what circumstances attributed this text to Pleshcheev, and, finally, thirdly, how the false authorship was broadcast in time.
You need to start with how the search ended: for the first time this poem, entitled "Autumn", was published in the book: Our dear. Russian and Church Slavonic primer and collection of articles for exercises in Russian and Church Slavonic reading, with samples for writing, material for independent writing exercises and drawings in the text. [First year of study]” (St. Petersburg, 1885, p. 44). The author and compiler of the textbook was the inspector of the Moscow educational district Alexei Grigorievich Baranov (1844 - 1911).
The book - from the point of view of authorship - was compiled by Baranov from texts of three types: a) indicating the authorship or source from which the text was reprinted; b) with three asterixes instead of the author's surname (these are texts by unknown authors, obviously used in oral transmission); c) texts whose authors are not named at all. By tradition, the latter category includes those texts that were composed by the compilers of textbooks - for example, A.A. Radonezhsky, the author of numerous books “for initial reading”, published in the 1870s, specifically mentioned this in a special note to the table of contents. Baranov does not have such a reservation, but, apparently, he, like K.D. Ushinsky in his classic books, composed a number of prose passages and even poems himself. In any case, review de visu of a number of earlier educational anthologies, collections, anthologies and magazines of the text “Autumn has come. The flowers dried up" did not reveal, and with a fairly high degree of probability it can be argued that the author of the text is A.G. Baranov, for what reason the poem "Autumn" in the textbook compiled by him appeared for the first time. As a result, the story is repeated with R.A. Kudasheva’s poem “Yolka” (1903), the author of which was unknown until 1941.
Incidentally, a look at children's magazines showed that poetic production similar to the "autumn" theme and simplified style in the 1880s. existed: Baranov only supported the tradition, acting as an imitator. For example, the peasant poet Spiridon Drozhzhin owns the poem “In Autumn” (Toy. 1881. No. 42. 25 Oct. S. 1420): “Howls, howls / The wind is colder, / Fades, fades / The beauty of the fields. // The clouds parted / In the depths of the sky, / The dense darkened / And the green forest ... // Seen in sheaves / Full threshing floor, / Splashes under the flails / Ripe grain ... // The sun does not rise early / In the morning it rises, / Dimly from the fog / Beam on pours the earth // And soon lies down; / So that, having finished work, / Could calm down / Baptized people are with him. The size is the same - X3 ZHMZHM.
A certain V. Lvov wrote a long poem “Autumn in the Village” (Toy. 1880. No. 38. 5 Oct. S. 1188 - 1192), from which I will give a small fragment: forest; // The leaves have crumbled, / They lie in heaps, / And the trees are bare / They look gloomily. // The nightingale does not sing / Late at times, / And rushed off across the sea / A free swarm of birds. // Boring / Compressed fields have been emptied, / And plowed under the winter / Loose land. // The sun shines dimly / Through the fog in the morning, / The nights have become dark, / The evenings are long. // Often the rain is intrusive / It pours like a bucket, / It blew cold / And it's time to drown.
In addition to the general imitation of the cited production, it is impossible not to notice the connections of Baranov’s poem with Pushkin in verses 1 (“October has already come ...”) and 9 (“A storm covers the sky with darkness ...”), with Pleshcheev in verses 6 - 7 (“The grass is turning green ...”) and with Apollon Grigoriev in verse 11 ("The evening is sultry, the wind howls"). This kind of unreflected rapprochement and similarity is characteristic of the texts of dilettantes who have a lot of poetry on their lips. As for the emotional coloring of the text, one can suspect the neurotic state of the author, who focuses only on the sad aspects of autumn changes metaphorically associated with death: bushes, flowers, grass, a cloud-covered and “dead” sky, a hidden and also “dead” sun that has flown away birds. Signs of seasonal change are forced into the poem and treated almost like a catastrophe; perhaps they express internal state the author, in any case, there is a large field for interpretation, associated, for example, with traumas of childhood.
There are other texts in Baranov’s book that he himself composed for the textbook, for example, the prose “The Orphan’s Prayer” and “Admission to School”: “Summer has passed. Autumn has come. ran out field work. It's time for the guys to study, ”etc. In addition to "Autumn" Baranov composed a poem "Winter" - written by the dull Y4 ZHMZHM and again a sad variation on the theme of Pushkin's "Winter Morning":
The cold winter has come
Fluffy snow flies from heaven;
The river was frozen with frost;
The dark forest looks sad.
Grass is no longer green
Meadows, valleys and hills...
Wherever you look: everywhere it turns white,
Everywhere glitters the cover of winter.
Baranov's poem "Autumn" was also included in subsequent editions of "Our Dear". In parallel, Baranov included "Autumn" in the educational manual "Russian primer with material for initial reading, memorization and written exercises", the first edition of which was published in 1887.
As for the texts of unknown authors, which are included in "Our Dear" (1885 and subsequent editions), each of them can be independently searched, similar to that carried out in relation to Baranov's "Autumn". These, for example, include poems by unknown authors “Literacy” (“A letter from a grandson / Received by Fedot: / His grandson is far away / Lives in the city”) and “On the eve of the holiday” (“The sun sets / And the day darkens; / It fell from the mountain / There is a shadow on the village”). It is possible that Baranov reproduced works from those textbooks that he himself studied in childhood (1850s). By the way, the alteration of "Literacy" was included in the book of prison lyrics "Russian Villons" (Moscow, 2001; compilers and authors of the preface A.G. Bronnikov and V.A. Mayer).
A few words must be said about Baranov himself. At the request of S.A. Vengerov for the "Critical Biographical Dictionary of Russian Writers and Scientists" (St. Petersburg, 1897 - 1904. T. VI. S. 392 - 397), Baranov wrote an autobiography, from which it follows that he was a man of great determination . He came from a serf family: his parents were serfs of S.P. Fonvizin, the owner of the village of Spassky, Klinsky district, Moscow province, and he was the very “yard boy” mentioned by Pushkin. When in 1851 Fonvizin's daughter, Natalya Sergeevna, arrived in Spasskoye, saw the boy, she wished to take him to her Moscow house, and at the age of 7 Alexei was forcibly separated from his mother (who, by the way, was Natalya Sergeevna's nurse and, so Thus, Natalya Sergeevna and Alexei were dairy sister and brother) and sent to Moscow to the master's house. An interesting detail noted by Baranov in his autobiography: “As soon as the winter route was established, I was sent with carts to Moscow, where N.S. Rzhevskaya lived.” Perhaps that is why the transition of autumn into winter, reflected in two of Baranov's poems, was fixed in his mind as a symbol of the trauma caused by the forced separation from his mother and home. It should also not be forgotten that M.N. Pokrovsky called the 1880s - and "Autumn" was written in 1885 - the era of a new serfdom for the peasants, citing a lot of concrete evidence (Pokrovsky M.N. Russian history in the most concise essay Moscow, 1934, part 1 – 2, pp. 153 – 154).
FROM early years Alexey strove for learning, and in 1855 Natalya Sergeevna assigned a serf boy, whom she clearly favored, to a parish school, and in 1858 to the 2nd grade of a gymnasium (at that time D.S. Rzhevsky, husband Natalya Sergeevna), and for the legality of his stay in the gymnasium, she freed him from serfdom, not much ahead of the course of history (“on the certificate of dismissal, later well-known figures signed as witnesses - A.M. Unkovsky and A.A. Golovachev”). In 1864, Alexei Baranov graduated from the gymnasium with a gold medal and entered the Moscow University in the mathematical department of the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics. In 1868 he graduated from the university with a candidate's degree, after which he devoted himself entirely to teaching. By the way, while still a student, he taught in the families of the Dyakov sisters: Princess Alexandra Alekseevna Obolenskaya and Maria Alekseevna Sukhotina. “I remember these families, Baranov noted in his autobiography, only with a feeling of the deepest gratitude for the beneficial influence they had on my life. moral development". Baranov's connections with people of the literary circle could not be identified.
In 1875 - 1885. Baranov served as the director of the teacher's seminary in Torzhok, and in 1885 he became an inspector of the Moscow educational district. It was in Torzhok that the textbook “Our Dear” was prepared, which included a poem that became so famous much later. Explaining the need to prepare new manuals for teaching reading, Baranov emphasized that the existing textbooks did not fully meet the needs. This also applied to Ushinsky's books "Native Word" and "Children's World": "the first of them was intended by the author for home schooling of children in intelligent families, and the second for students of secondary educational institutions."
From one of the editions of “Our Dear”, the text of the poem “Autumn” (with reference to Baranov’s book) was reprinted in the “Book for Reading in Public Schools in the North-Western Territory of Russia with a Russian and Church Slavonic Primer and Material for Independent Writing Exercises. The first year of study ”(Vilna, 1896. P. 41 - 42), compiled by N.F. Odintsov and V.S. Bogoyavlensky. They also placed the text in the “First Book” prepared by them for reading in parochial schools and literacy schools. Year of the 1st education ”(St. Petersburg, 1899. P. 40), published by the school council at the Holy Synod. Everywhere the text of the poem about autumn was printed as anonymous, neither the authorship of Baranov, nor - even more so - the authorship of Pleshcheev, was noted.
It is important to note the reissue of 1899 only because the author of the musical album “Children's Fun: A Collection of Songs for School-Age Children” (M., 1902. Part 1. S. 7) took verses for children's songs from it, composer I.S. Khodorovsky . It was he who first attributed the authorship of the text to A.N. Pleshcheev, and just after 1902, a tradition arose to publish the text of the poem “Autumn” as belonging to A.N. Pleshcheev.
It can be assumed why Khodorovsky made this mistake: in the "First Reading Book" prepared by Odintsov and Bogoyavlensky, from which Khodorovsky took poetic lyrics for songs (he emphasized this at the beginning of the album), two poems were printed on page 40: - firstly, the anonymous "Autumn" (with reference in the table of contents to Baranov's "Our Dear" as the primary source), and, secondly, the poem by A.N. The page contains the name of the poet. Most likely, having inattentively read the table of contents of the book, the composer decided that Pleshcheev was the author of both poetic texts printed on page 40.
The same mistake (on their own or with the help of I.S. Khodorovsky) was made by Fedor Pavlovich Borisov and Nikolai Ivanovich Lavrov. Since 1906, with annual reprints, the book “The New Folk School. The first book after the primer for class reading in elementary schools and at home, compiled by a "circle of teachers edited by F. Borisov and N. Lavrov," in which Pleshcheev was invariably named the author. After that, for more than 100 years, the author of “Autumn has come. The flowers have dried up" was Pleshcheev. Naturally reprint the poem famous poet much more respectable than anonymous text.
However, in 1914 two editions appeared in which the poem "Autumn" was published as anonymous: firstly, this is the reader "Living Word", compiled by a group of teachers from Moscow city schools, edited by A.A. Soldin, and, secondly, secondly, an album of children's songs to the music of C.A. Cui (op. 97, edition of the magazine "Firefly"; in the Russian Journal Fund of the Russian national library the album is attached to the annual set of the magazine).
AT Soviet time the poem was first reprinted in the textbook for preschool teachers and kindergarten teachers "The Living Word to a Preschooler" (M., 1945). Here Pleshcheev was again named the author of the text. The editor of the book was Associate Professor E.A. Flerina, the compilers in addition to her were also M.K. Bogolyubskaya and A.L.Tabenkina.
By the way, it can be assumed that after the release of the anthology, the fallacy of attribution became clear, therefore, in the two subsequent editions (Reader on children's literature: Tutorial for preschool pedagogical schools / Compiled by M.K. Bogolyubskaya, A.L. Tabenkina. M., 1948; Artistic word for a preschooler: A manual for kindergarten teachers. 2nd edition, revised / Compiled by M.K. Bogolyubskaya, A.L. Tabenkina, E.A. Flerina. Edited by Corr. APN of the RSFSR E.A. Flerina. M., 1952) this poem does not exist at all.
Evgenia Alexandrovna Flyorina (1889 - 1952) remained in the history of literature as a persecutor of children's poems by Chukovsky and Marshak, which she called "defective literature". “The tendency to amuse a child, tomfoolery, an anecdote, a sensation and tricks even in serious, socio-political topics, is nothing more than distrust of the topic and distrust of the child, with whom they do not want to talk seriously about serious things” (Flerina E You need to talk seriously with a child // Literary newspaper. 1929. 30 Dec. No. 37. P. 2; the author is the chairman of the commission on the children's book of the People's Commissariat of the RSFSR). Another merit of Flerina is the erroneous attribution of the authorship of the text about the coming autumn to Pleshcheev, which had consequences (entering the history of literature with two major mistakes is also a success). In fact, there is nothing surprising in the attribution: pedagogical activity Flerina began in 1909, and just during this period the “New Folk School” was published, compiled by a “circle of teachers edited by F. Borisov and N. Lavrov”, where Pleshcheev was called the author of the poem.
It was with the support of the reading book of 1945, edited by Flerina, that, for example, a translation of the poem into Belarusian appeared, indicating the authorship of Pleshcheev (Twelve months: Schoolboy Calendar. 1947. Listapad<ноябрь>. Minsk. 1947<Без пагинации, оборот листа за 11 ноября>), and in 1962 - a solid reader "Our book: A collection for reading in kindergarten”(compilers N. Karpinskaya and P. Dymshits. M., 1962. S. 188), where Pleshcheev was also named the author (since there were no public refutations of Pleshcheev’s authorship, noted in the 1945 reader). Moreover, in 1962 and 1964 In two editions, the "Kindergarten Education Program" was issued, approved by the Ministry of Education of the RSFSR, in which this poem was attributed to Pleshcheev and recommended for memorization. It is noteworthy, however, that this poem has not been published in any of the Soviet school textbooks since the 1930s. But in parallel with the school one, a preschool subculture developed, and after entering the compulsory kindergarten program in 1962, no one had any doubts about the authorship of the text “Autumn has come”. The poem itself, memorized back in kindergarten, eventually became so popular that it entered school folklore in obscene alterations - a fate that befell only the most famous and beloved: “Autumn has come, / There are no more sheets, / And they look sad / Damn bushes. // I’ll go out into the street, / I’ll put x.y in a puddle - / Let it crush the tractor, / I don’t need it anyway ”(Russian school folklore: From the“ calls ”of the Queen of Spades to family stories / Compiled by A.F. Belousov. M. , 1998, p. 449). By the way, here the traumatic-neurotic overtones of the original are accurately captured and translated into modern language psychoanalysis.
The plot will not be complete without considering one more poem, which is also posted on the Internet and falsely attributed to Pleshcheev. It's called "Autumn Song":
The summer has passed
Autumn has come.
In fields and groves
Empty and dull.
The birds have flown
The days got shorter
The sun is not visible
Dark, dark nights.
This text has nothing to do with A.N. Pleshcheev, for the first time the second stanza appeared in the “Primer” by Alexandra Vladimirovna Yankovskaya (b. 1883) and Elizaveta Georgievna Carlsen, released in Moscow in 1937 (there are also in subsequent editions). The author of the text was not listed in the Primer. With a slight change in the last verse, the second stanza was reprinted in the journal "Preschool Education" (1938. No. 11, p. 71) as an appendix to the article by L. Zavodova "Correction of speech defects in children." It is possible that the second stanza was composed by one of the authors-compilers of the Primer or reproduced from childhood memories, and the first stanza with the iconic line “Autumn has come” and the old rhyme “it has come - sadly” arose later as “ folk art". The result was a derivative of the poem by A.G. Baranov.
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