Tale of peasant children read text online, free download. Peasant children poem nikolai nekrasov pretty vanyusha walked you a lot

Again in the village. I go to the hunt, I write my verses - it lives easily. Yesterday, tired walking on the swamp, I wandered in the barn and fell asleep deep. I woke up: a cheerful sun rays look into wide slits of a barn. Vorts a dove; Over the roof flying, shouting young ruchies, flies and the other bird is flying - I learned about the trees. Chu! Whisper of some kind ... But the rim along the slot of attentive eyes! All gray, brown, blue eyes - Mixed, as in the field Flowers. They have so much peace, freedom and caress, in them so much holy kindness! I love expressing child eyes, I always know him. I measure: touched the soul of a dying ... Chu! Whisper again! \u003e Beard! \u003e And Barin, said! ...\u003e Potes you, devils! \u003e Bar beard does not have a mustache. \u003e And the legs are long, as if how troops. \u003e And in the header, looked-TKO - watch! \u003e Ai, an important thing! \u003e And the chain of the Golden ...\u003e Tea, expensive? \u003e How the sun burns! \u003e And the dog is big, big! Water from the language runs. \u003e Gun! Looking-TKO: Double stem, carved locks ...\u003e looking with fright! \u003e Silent, nothing! Stand more, Grisha! \u003e Sweets ... --- My spies were frightened and rushed away: a person sauna, so the flocks fly from the pokyanka. Natiya, I squinted - appeared again, the go-free flashes in the gap. What happened to me - everything was woven and my sentence was osprsed: "It would be for a hussy for hunting! I would lay myself on the furnace! And you can see, not a barin: how I went with the swamp, so next to Gavrila ..." - "will hear , silence! " --- about cute plows! Who often saw them, he believes, loves peasant children; But if you even hated them, the reader, like the "low kind of people," - I still need to confess the openly, which I often envy them: In their life, so many poetry merged, as God forbid your bald children. Happy people! Neither the science nor the balls do not know in childhood they. I felt mushroom raids with them: I split the leaves, she stipped the stump, tried to notice a mushroom place, and I could not find anything in the morning. "Looking, savosya, what a ring!" We both came down, and once and to go snake! I jumped: stool painful! Savosya laughs: "I got enough!" But then we then roared them pretty and put a row on the railing of the bridge. We must have been waiting for the feats of glory, we also had a big road: the working title, people were again over her no matter. Distributor of a Valve Zoghzhitan, a loudist, a tailor, a horror, and then in the monastery of the city dweller under the holiday praying to Katit. Under our dense, vintage elms on holiday pulled tired people. The guys complaint: the stories about Kiev will begin, about Turku, about wonderful animals. Other poured, so only keeps - it will start with a lush, it will reach Kazan! Chukhna is molded, Mordwo, Chereve, and felt like a fairy tale, and the parable will lead: "Goodbye, guys! Try Naipache on the Lord God in everything to crackle: we had a snap, lived all the cooler, and he decided to spend once on God, - since , I broke the bar, there is no honey with bees, crop out of the ground, and only in one he was happily that the hair was grew out of the nose ... "The worker will lay out, laid out the shells - the plane, the footage, bits, knives:" Look, thoughts! " And the children and glads, as they saw, like Ludi - they show everything. Passerspit will fall asleep under its booms, guys for business - saw and strict! Extract the saw - do not fulfill and per day! Brewery break - and run away with fright. It happened, here the whole days flew - that the new passerby, then the new story ... Wow, hot! .. Until half a day, the mushrooms were collected. Here from the forest went out - there is just a blue ribbon, winding, long, the river meadow: jumped up the gurba, and the brown heads over the river desert that white mushrooms on the glade of the forest! The river was announced and laugh, and however: there is a fight - not a fight, the game is not a game ... And the sun is palette with their meal. Home, guys! Dining time. Returned. Everyone is full of Lukokhko, and how many stories! I got sick, caught hedgehog, got lost a little and saw the wolf ... I'm scary! The Muh, and the Kozhevok, the roots of Milk gave him his own roots - Do not drink! I retreated ... who catches the leeches on the lava, where the uterus is kogotit linen, who nurses sister a two-year-old head, who drags on the rear of Kvaderno Kvadko, and he tied under the throat shirt, mysteriously something draws in the sand; That in the puddle was hammered, and this with the updated: splash myself a glorious wreath, - all white, yellow, pale-lilac and occasionally a red flower. Those are sleeping on the seat, they are danced to print. Here the girl catches his horse: caught, jumped up and rides on it. And is it, under the sunny heat born and in the apron from the field home brought, afraid of a humble horse horses? .. Mushroom time did not have time to move, look - all the lips of everyone, they have been whipped by SCOME: Crying! And there and raspberries, lingonberry, nut! A childish cry, repeated echo, in the morning and in the morning thundering in the forests. Frightened with stump, aucan, laughter, whether the aunt takes off, clouding chicks, whether the ribbons will jump - soda, turmoil! Here is the old wooder with a lean wing in the bustle ... well, poor bad! The living in the village is dragging with a celebration ... "Pretty, Vanyusha! You walked a lot, it's time for work, native!" But even labor will turn first to the vanya of his own side: he sees how the Father's field fertilizes how grain throws in the loose land. As a field, then green begins, as a spike grows, pours grain. The finished harvest is cut with sickles, they will tee in the sheath, they will be brought to Riga, dried, crop-crushing the tsepami, baked bread on the mill and baked. Heats a fresh loaf baby and in the Field of Okhotny runs after his father. Li Peztsi: "Frames, postmen!" Vanyusha in the village entrances to the king ... However, the envy in the noble child to sow it would be sorry. So, wrap we owe by the way with the other side of the medal. We put the peasant child freely growing, do not study anything, but he will grow, if God is pleased, and not binding to him. I put it, he knows the forest paths, Garsets riding, is not afraid of water, but his midges eat mercilessly, but he is too familiar with the works ... Once, in the student winter time I came out of the forest; There was a strong frost. I look, it rises slowly into the mountain of the horse, the WHO brushwort. And the sledging is important, in calm the chiny, the horse leads a peasant in large boots under the coat, in a sheepskin coat, in large mittens ... and myself with marigolds! "Great harden!" - "Go yourself by!" "It hurts that you are Grozen, as I will see! Where did the woodwife come from?" - "From the forest, Vote; Father, you hear, chop, and I take." (In the forest he was heard in the woods.) "And what, the father has a big family?" - "Family is big, yes two people of all the men, something: My father is yes, I ..." - "So that's what it is! And how to call you?" - "Vlas". - "And why did you go to you?" - "Sixth passed ... Well, dead!" - shouted to the baby bass, rushed under the boil and walked faster. On this picture so the sun shone, the child was so sculptively small, as if all this cardboard was, as if I would get into the children's theater! But the boy was a boy lively, real, and woodcut, and a brotherpiece, and a sherry horse, and snow, to the windows of the village lying, and the winter sun is cold fire - everything, the entire real Russian was, with a stigma of an unlike, dead winter, that the Russian soul is so It is painfully nice that Russian thoughts instill in the minds, those honest thoughts, who have no will, who have no death - Davi do not give, in which there are so many malice and pain, in which so much love! Play the same, children! Grow on the will! You and the Red Childhood are given to love this scanty field forever, so that you always seemed cute you. Keep your age-old inheritance, love your labor bread - and let the charm of childhood poetry spends you in the land of the land of the native! .. --- Now it's time for us to go back to the beginning. Noticing that the guys are bold, "hey, thieves go! - I shouted Fingal. - They will decoke, steal! Well, hiding quickly!" Finghalushka was shooting a serious mine, my belongings were buried under the hay, it was planted with a game, my female lay down, my legs lay down - and I growled angrily. An extensive area of \u200b\u200bdog science was perfectly familiar to him; He began to throw out things that the public could not come out of place, they wondered, laugh! It's not to fear! Command themselves! "Fingalka, die!" - "Do not zastya, Sergey! Do not push, Kuzyaha!" - "Look - dying - see!" I myself enjoyed having rolled on the Seine, their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark in the barn: so quickly darkens on the stage when the thunderstorm is destined. And for sure: the blow thundered over the barn, the rain river was poured into the barn, the actor walked over a deafening laem, and the audience gave rise to a straight! The wide door left, creaked, hit the wall, was fixed again. I looked out: the dark cloud hung over our theater just. Under the major rain, the children fled barely to the village of their own ... And the faithful Fingal stoke the thunderstorms and went out to look for fools. 1861.

Again in the village. I go hunting
I am writing my verses - it lives easily.
Yesterday, tired walking on the swamp,
I wandered in the barn and fell asleep deep.
Woke up: in wide shed slits
Merry sun rays look.
Vorts a dove; above the roof flying
Screaming young gri
The other bird flies and another -
According to the shadows, I learned the crows just;
Chu! some kind of whisper ... but the rim
Along the gap attentive eyes!
All gray, brown, blue eyes -
Mixed, as in the field of flowers.
They have so much peace, freedom and affection,
In them so much holy kindness!
I love expressing baby eyes,
I always know him.
I measure: touched the soul of the dying ...
Chu! Whisper again!
First voice
Beard!
Second
And Barin, said! ..
The third
Potache you, devils!
Second
The bar has no beard - mustache.
First
And the legs are long, as if torsp.
Fourth
And in the header, look-TKO - watch!
Fifth
Ai, important thing!
Sixth
And the chain is golden ...
Seventh
Tea is expensive?
Eighth
How the sun burns!
Ninth
And the dog is big, big!
Water from the language runs.
Fifth
Gun! Look-TKO: Double stem,
Carved locks ...
The third
(with fright)
Looking!
Fourth
Silent, nothing! Stand more, Grisha!
The third
Sweet ...

My spies were frightened
And they rushed away: a man sax,
So the flocks from the punching sparrows fly.
I sat down, squinted - appeared again,
Eyeless flashes in the gap.
What happened to me - all woven
And my sentence was pricked:
- Such something goes so for hunting!
I would lay myself on the furnace!
And it can be seen Barin: how to drive from the swamp,
So next to Gavrila ... - "Hears, silent!"

Oh, cute swarms! Who often saw them
He, I believe, loves peasant children;
But if you even hated them,
Reader, as a "low kind of people", -
I still need to confess that
What often envy them:
In their lives, so many poetry merged,
How to give God the bald kids yours.
Happy people! Neither science nor love
They do not know in childhood they.
I made fungal raids with them:
Russed the leaves, shakeped the stumps,
Tried to notify the fungal place,
And in the morning I could not find anything.
"Looking, savosya, what a ring!"
We both got off, and at once and to hug
Snake! I jumped: stool painful!
Savosya laughs: "Skipped!"
But we then roete them
And put a row on the perilles of the bridge.
We must have been waiting for the feats of glory.
We also had a big road:
Working title people again
On it no number.
Davitel Canvas Volgodern,
Louffalker, tailor, woolobit,
And then in the monastery of the city
Under the holiday praying rolls.
Under our dense, vintage elm
On holiday pulled tired people.
Guys comprising: Stories will begin
About Kiev, about Turku, about wonderful animals.
Other poured, so only keep
Start with a wolf, reach Kazan!
Chukhna will be opposed, Mordwo, Chereve,
And the fairy tale will sweat, and the parable will lead:
"Farewell guys! Try Napa
On the Lord God to crack everything:
We had a snap, lived all the cooler,
Yes, he decided once on God to grow, -
Since then, she broke, broke her
No honey with bees, harvest from the ground,
And only in one he was happily,
That the hair out of the nose is glowing ... "
Worker will deploy, laid out the shells -
Planned, cutting, bolts, knives:
"Look, thien!" And children and glads,
How to saw, like Ludie - they show all.
Passer will fall asleep under its booms,
Guys for business - saw and strict!
Extract the saw - do not fulfill and per day!
Brewery break - and run away with fright.
It happened, here all days flew,
What is a new passerby, then a new story ...

Wow, hot! .. To half a day, the mushrooms were collected.
Here from the forest came out - to meet just
Blue ribbon, winding, long,
River meadow: jumped up with gurboy,
And blond heads over the river deserted
What is white mushrooms Pa Polyanka Forest!
The river was announced and laugh:
Here the fight is not a fight, the game is not a game ...
And the sun flies their meal heat.
Home, guys! Dining pori.
Returned. Everyone is full of Lukokhko,
And how many stories! Caught oblique
Caught hedgehogs got lost a little
And saw the wolf ... y, terrible what!
Muh and Kozhevock are offered,
The roots of milk gave him his own -
Do not drink! retreated ...
Who catches leeches
On the lava, where the uterus is kolotit linen,
Who nurses sister, two-year-old iron,
Who drags on the rear bucket
And he, toned under the throat,
Mysteriously something draws in the sand,
That in the puddle was hammered, and this with the updated:
Split a glorious wreath,
All white, yellow, pale lilac
Yes occasionally a red flower.
Those are sleeping on the seat, they are danced to print.
Here the girl catches her horse:
Caught, jumped up and rides on it.
And she, under the sunny heat born
And in the apron from the field home brought,
Afraid of a humble horse horses? ..

Mushroom time did not have time to move
Watch - all the lips of all,
Sounded by the SCOME: Crying has slept!
And there and raspberries, lingonberry, nut!
Childish cry, repeated echo,
From morning to night, thunder in the forests.
Frightened with stump, auchanam, laughter,
Whether the tetra takes off, clouding chicks,
Lee ribbons will jump - soda, turmoil!
Here is the old wooder with a lined wing
In Kuste, it was covered ... well, poor bad!
Living in the village drains with a celebration ...

Pretty, Vanyusha! you walked a lot
It's time for work, native! -
But even labor will turn first
To Vanya, the elegant side:
He sees how the Father Field fertilizes,
How in loose land throws grain,
How the field then green begins,
As a spike grows, pours grain;
The finished harvest will cut sickles,
In the sheath will be tied up, in Riga will be brought
Dried, crop-chipsets,
The mill is bold and bread baked.
Jumps a fresh loaf
And in the Field of Okhotny, the Father runs.
Li Peztsi: "Frames, postmen!"
Vanyusha in the village enters the king ...

However, envy in the noblestock
It would be sorry to sow.
So, wrap we are obliged by the way
Another side of the medal.
Put, peasant child free
Grows, do not study anything
But he will grow, if God is pleased,
And bending nothing bothers him.
Put, he knows the forest paths,
Riding riding, not afraid of water,
But mercilessly eat his midges,
But he is early acquaintances ...

Once upon a time in the cold winter time,
I came out of the forest; There was a strong frost.
I look, rises slowly to the mountain
Horse, WHO brushwash.
And, sincerely, in calm chinn,
The horse leads under the coat of a peasant
In large boots, in the serve sheepskin,
In large mittens ... and myself with marigolds!
- Great, career! - "Go yourself by!"
- I hurt you Grozen, how I will see!
Where did the roadrovka come from? - "From the forest, internally,
Father, you hear, rubit, and I take. "
(In the forest, the woodcaroscope was distributed.)
-What, father has a big family?
"Family is big, yes two people
Total men something: My father yes I ... "
- So won it! And how to call you? -
"Vlas".
-And you a year old? - "Sixth passed ...
Well, dead! " - shouted the baby bass,
Round under the booze and faster walked.
On this picture so the sun shone,
The child was so sculptively small
As if all this cardboard was,
As if I got into the children's theater!
But the boy was a boy alive, real,
And woodcuts, and a trust, and a peg's horse,
And snow, to the windows of the village lying,
And the winter sun Cold Fire -
All, the real Russian was,
With a stigma notice, dead winter,
That the Russian soul is so cute
That Russian thoughts instill in the minds,
Those honest thoughts that no will,
Who do not have death - Davi do not give
In which so many malice and pain,
In which so much love!

Play the same, children! Grow on the will!
You and the Red Childhood is given,
To love this scarce field forever,
So that you always seemed cute to you.
Keep your age-old inheritance
Love your Labor Bread -
And let the charm of childhood poetry
Conducts you in the depths of the land of native! ..
_____________

Now we have to go back to the beginning.
Noticing that the guys are bold,
-Hey! Thieves go! - I shouted Fingal .-
Stolen, steal! Well, hitch quickly! -
Finghalushka scratched a serious mine
Under the hay, my belongings I buried,
With a special steel finished the game,
At my feet lay down - and I growled angrily.
Extensive area of \u200b\u200bdog science
He was perfectly familiar;
He began to throw out things,
That the public could not come from the place
Missing, laugh! It's not to fear!
Command themselves! - "Fingalka, die!"
- Do not zastya, Sergey! Do not push, Kuzya! -
"Look - dying - see!"
I myself enjoyed having rolled on Seine,
Their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark
In Saraj: So quickly darkens on stage,
When to break out a thunderstorm destined.
And for sure: the blow thundered over the barn,
Rain river was poured in the barn,
The actor walked over a deafening laem,
And the spectators gave rise!
The wide door stopped, creaked,
Hitched into the wall, I was fixed again.
I looked out: Dark cloud hung
Over our theater just.
Under large rain, the children fled
Bosy to the village of His ...
We are faithful to Finghal thunderstorm
And they went out to look for fools.

P e p in y y about l about with

In T about r about

And Barin, said! ..

The third

Potache you, devils!

In T about r about

The bar has no beard - mustache.

First

And the legs are long, as if torsp.

H e t e r t s

And in the header, looking-TKO, - watch!

Ai, important thing!

Sh E S T O

And the chain is golden ...

S e d

Tea is expensive?

In about s and m about

How the sun burns!

D e in i t s

And the dog is big, big!
Water from the language runs.

Gun! Look-TKO: Double stem,
Carved locks ...

The third
(with fright)

H e t e r t s

Silent, nothing! Stand more, Grisha!

The third

Sweet ...

About Cute Pluts! Who often saw them
He, I believe, loves peasant children;
But if you even hated them,
Reader, as a "low kind of people", -
I still need to confess the openly,
What often envy them:
In their lives, so many poetry merged,
How to give God the bald kids yours.
Happy people! Neither science nor love
They do not know in childhood they.
I made fungal raids with them:
Russed the leaves, shakeped the stumps,
Tried to notify the fungal place,
And in the morning I could not find anything.
"Looking, savosya, what a ring!"
We both got off, and at once and to hug
Snake! I jumped: stool painful!
Savosya laughs: "Skipped!"
But we then roete them
And put a row on the railing of the bridge.
We must have been waiting for the feats of glory.
We also had a big road:
Working title people again
On it no number.
Digger ditch VOLOGANYAN,
Louffalker, tailor, woolobit,
And then in the monastery of the city
Under the holiday praying rolls.
Under our dense vintage elms
On holiday pulled tired people.
Guys comprising: Stories will begin
About Kiev, about Turku, about wonderful animals.
Other poured, so only keep
Start with a wolf, reach Kazan "
Chukhna will be opposed, Mordwo, Chereve,
And the fairy tale will sweat, and the parable will lead:
"Farewell guys! Try Naipache
On the Lord God to crack everything:
We had a snap, lived all the cooler,
Yes, he decided once on God to grow, -
Since then, she broke, broke her
No honey with bees, harvest from the ground,
And only in one he was happily,
That the hair out of the nose is glowing ... "
Worker will deploy, laid out the shells -
Planned, cutting, bolts, knives:
"Look, thien!" And children and glads,
How to saw, like Ludie - they show all.
Passer will fall asleep under its booms,
Guys for business - saw and strict!
Extract the saw - do not fulfill and per day!
Brewery break - and run away with fright.
It happened, here all days flew, -
What is a new passerby, then a new story ...

Wow, hot! .. To half a day, the mushrooms were collected.
Here from the forest came out - to meet just
Blue ribbon, winding, long,
River meadow; jumped up
And blond heads over the river deserted
What is white mushrooms on the field of forests!
The river was announced and laugh:
Here the fight is not a fight, the game is not a game ...
And the sun flies their meal heat.
- Home, guys! It is time to dinner.
Returned. Everyone is full of Lukokhko,
And how many stories! Caught oblique
Caught hedgehogs got lost a little
And saw the wolf ... y, terrible what!
Much, and Kozhevok,
The roots of milk gave him his own -
Do not drink! retreated ...

Who catches leeches
On the lava, where the uterus is kolotit linen,
Who nurses sister, two-year-old iron,
Who drags on the rear bucket
And he, toned under the throat,
Mysterly something draws in the sand;
That in the puddle was hammered, and this with the updated:
Split a glorious wreath,
All white, yellow, pale lilac
Yes occasionally a red flower.
Those are sleeping on the seat, they are danced to print.
Here the girl catches his horse -
Caught, jumped up and rides on it.
And she, under the sunny heat born
And in the apron from the field home brought,
Afraid of a humble horse horses? ..

- Pretty, Vanyusha! you walked a lot
It's time for work, native! -
But even labor will turn first
To Vanya, the elegant side:
He sees how the Father Field fertilizes,
How in loose land throws grain,
How the field then green begins,
As a spike grows, pours grain;
The finished harvest will cut sickles,
In the sheath will be tied up, in Riga will be brought
Dried, crop-chipsets,
The mill is bold and bread baked.
Jumps a fresh loaf
And in the Field of Okhotny, the Father runs.
Li Peztsi: "Frames, postmen!"
Vanyusha in the village enters the king ...

Once upon a time in the cold winter time,
I came out of the forest; There was a strong frost.
I look, rises slowly to the mountain
Horse, WHO brushwash.
And, sincerely, in calm chinn,
The horse leads under the coat of a peasant
In large boots, in the serve sheepskin,
In large mittens ... and myself with marigolds!
- Great, career! - "Go yourself by!"
- I hurt you Grozen, how I will see!
Where did the firewood from? - "From the forest, internally;
Father, you hear, rubit, and I take. "
(In the forest, the woodcaroscope was distributed.)
- And what, the father has a big family?
"Family is big, yes two people
Total men something: My father yes I ... "
- So won it! And how to call you? - "Vlas".
- And why are you a year old? - "Sixth passed ...
Well, dead! " - shouted the baby bass,
Round under the booze and faster walked.
On this picture so the sun shone,
The child was so sculptively small
As if all this cardboard was,
As if I got into the children's theater!
But the boy was a boy alive, real,
And woodcuts, and a trust, and a peg's horse,
And snow, to the windows of the village lying,
And the winter sun Cold Fire -
All, the real Russian was,
With a stigma notice, dead winter,
That the Russian soul is so cute
That Russian thoughts instill in the minds,
Those honest thoughts that no will,
Who do not have death - Davi do not give
In which so many malice and pain,
In which so much love!

Now we have to go back to the beginning.
Noticing that the guys are bold -
"Hey, thieves go! - I shouted a Fingal: -
Stolen, steal! Well, hitch quickly! "
Finghalushka scratched a serious mine
Under the hay, my belongings I buried,
With a special steel finished the game,
At my feet lay down - and I growled angrily.
Extensive area of \u200b\u200bdog science
He was perfectly familiar;
He began to throw out things,
That the public could not come from the place.
Missing, laugh! It's not to fear!
Command themselves! - "Fingalek, die!"
- Do not zastya, Sergey! Do not push, Kuzyah, -
"Look - dying - see!"
I myself enjoyed having rolled on Seine,
Their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark
In Saraj: So quickly darkens on stage,
When to break out a thunderstorm destined.
And for sure: the blow thundered over the barn,
Rain river was poured in the barn,
The actor walked over a deafening laem,
And the spectators gave rise!
The wide door stopped, creaked,
Hitched into the wall, I was fixed again.
I looked out: Dark cloud hung
Over our theater just.
Under large rain, the children fled
Bosy to the village of His ...
We are faithful to Finghal thunderstorm
And they went out to look for fools.

~ Peasant children Peasant children

P e p in y y about l about with

In T about r about

And Barin, said! ..

The third

Potache you, devils!

In T about r about

The bar has no beard - mustache.

First

And the legs are long, as if torsp.

H e t e r t s

And in the header, looking-TKO, - watch!

N i t s

Ai, important thing!

Sh E S T O

And the chain is golden ...

S e d

Tea is expensive?

In about s and m about

How the sun burns!

D e in i t s

And the dog is big, big!
Water from the language runs.

N i t s

Gun! Look-TKO: Double stem,
Carved locks ...

The third
(with fright)

H e t e r t s

Silent, nothing! Stand more, Grisha!

The third

Sweet ...

_______________

About Cute Pluts! Who often saw them
He, I believe, loves peasant children;
But if you even hated them,
Reader, as a "low kind of people", -
I still need to confess the openly,
What often envy them:
In their lives, so many poetry merged,
How to give God the bald kids yours.
Happy people! Neither science nor love
They do not know in childhood they.
I made fungal raids with them:
Russed the leaves, shakeped the stumps,
Tried to notify the fungal place,
And in the morning I could not find anything.
"Looking, savosya, what a ring!"
We both got off, and at once and to hug
Snake! I jumped: stool painful!
Savosya laughs: "Skipped!"
But we then roete them
And put a row on the railing of the bridge.
We must have been waiting for the feats of glory.
We also had a big road:
Working title people again
On it no number.
Digger ditch VOLOGANYAN,
Louffalker, tailor, woolobit,
And then in the monastery of the city
Under the holiday praying rolls.
Under our dense vintage elms
On holiday pulled tired people.
Guys comprising: Stories will begin
About Kiev, about Turku, about wonderful animals.
Other poured, so only keep
Start with a wolf, reach Kazan '
Chukhna will be opposed, Mordwo, Chereve,
And the fairy tale will sweat, and the parable will lead:
"Farewell guys! Try Naipache
On the Lord God to crack everything:
We had a snap, lived all the cooler,
Yes, he decided once on God to grow, -
Since then, she broke, broke her
No honey with bees, harvest from the ground,
And only in one he was happily,
That the hair out of the nose is glowing ... "
Worker will deploy, laid out the shells -
Planned, cutting, bolts, knives:
"Look, thien!" And children and glads,
How to saw, like Ludie - they show all.
Passer will fall asleep under its booms,
Guys for business - saw and strict!
Extract the saw - do not fulfill and per day!
Brewery break - and run away with fright.
It happened, here all days flew, -
What is a new passerby, then a new story ...

Once upon a time in the cold winter time,
I came out of the forest; There was a strong frost.
I look, rises slowly to the mountain
Horse, WHO brushwash.
And, sincerely, in calm chinn,
The horse leads under the coat of a peasant
In large boots, in the serve sheepskin,
In large mittens ... and myself with marigolds!
- Great, career! - "Go yourself by!"
- I hurt you Grozen, how I will see!
Where did the firewood from? - "From the forest, internally;
Father, you hear, rubit, and I take. "
(In the forest, the woodcaroscope was distributed.)
- And what, the father has a big family?
"Family is big, yes two people
Total men something: My father yes I ... "
- So won it! And how to call you? - "Vlas".
- And why are you a year old? - "Sixth passed ...
Well, dead! " - shouted the baby bass,
Round under the booze and faster walked.
On this picture so the sun shone,
The child was so sculptively small
As if all this cardboard was,
As if I got into the children's theater!
But the boy was a boy alive, real,
And woodcuts, and a trust, and a peg's horse,
And snow, to the windows of the village lying,
And the winter sun Cold Fire -
All, the real Russian was,
With a stigma notice, dead winter,
That the Russian soul is so cute
That Russian thoughts instill in the minds,
Those honest thoughts that no will,
Who do not have death - Davi do not give
In which so many malice and pain,
In which so much love!

Again in the village. I go to the hunt, I write my verses - it lives easily. Yesterday, tired walking on the swamp, I wandered in the barn and fell asleep deep. I woke up: a cheerful sun rays look into wide slits of a barn. Vorts a dove; Over the roof flew, shouting young ridges; The other bird flies and another bird - I learned the crows on the shadow just; Chu! Whisper of some kind ... But the rim along the slot of attentive eyes! All gray, brown, blue eyes - Mixed, as in the field Flowers. They have so much peace, freedom and caress, in them so much holy kindness! I love expressing child eyes, I always know him. I measure: touched the soul of a dying ... Chu! Whisper again! P e r in y y about l about from a beard! In t o r o th and Barin, they said! .. T R E T and Y Potache you, devils! In t o r about y, the bar of beard does not happen - mustache. P e r in y and the legs are long, as if booty. CHE E T N E R T S Y I in the header, Look, TKO, - Watches! P I T S Y A Ai, an important thing! Sh e with t about and the gold chain ... s e d o o tea is expensive? In about s and m about y, how the sun is burning! D E in I t s and in a dog - big, big! Water from the language runs. P I t s a rifle! Looking-TKO: Double stem, carved locks ... T R E T and Y (with fright) Looking! H e t e r t s silence, nothing! Stand more, Grisha! T R E T And th will ... _______________ Spies were frightened and rushed away: a person saushed, so the sparrows fly from the little balls. Natiya, I squinted - appeared again, the go-free flashes in the gap. What happened to me - everyone was posted and my sentence was osprsed: - Something Guseu is so for Hunting! I would lay myself on the furnace! And it is seen not a barin: how he went with the swamp, so next to Gavrille ...- "hear, silent!" _______________ About Cute Pluts! Who often saw them, he believes, loves peasant children; But if you even hated them, the reader, like the "low kind of people," - I still need to confess the openly, which I often envy them: In their life, so many poetry merged, as God forbid your bald children. Happy people! Neither the science nor the balls do not know in childhood they. I felt mushroom raids with them: I split the leaves, she stipped the stump, tried to notice a mushroom place, and I could not find anything in the morning. "Looking, savosya, what a ring!" We both came down, and once and to go snake! I jumped: stool painful! Savosya laughs: "Skipped!" But then we then roared them pretty and put a row on the railing of the bridge. We must have been waiting for the feats of glory. We also had a big road: the working title people were again over her no matter. Distributor of a Valve Zoghzhitan, a loudist, a tailor, a horror, and then in the monastery of the city dweller under the holiday praying to Katit. Under our thick vintage elms on vacation pulled tired people. The guys complaint: the stories about Kiev will begin, about Turku, about wonderful animals. Ohna pouals, just keep it - it will start with a wolf, it will reach Kazan "Chukhna will understand, Mordwo, Chereve, and felt like a fairy tale, and the parable will lead:" Goodbye, guys! Try Napace to the Lord God to crack everything: we had a snap all the cooler, and he decided to rapid on God, - since then she broke, broke her, there is no honey with bees, harvesting from the ground, and only in one he was happily that the hair out of her nose was groaned ... "worker will deploy Shells - plates, footage, chisels, knives: "Loose, thien!" And the children and glads, as they saw, like Ludi - they are all showing. Passer will fall asleep to their booms, guys to cut and strict! Extracts the saw - do not fulfill and for a day! They break a boral - and run away from fright. Happened The days flew - that the new passerby, then a new story ... Wow, hot! .. Until noon, the mushrooms were collected. Here it was from the forest - to meet just a blue ribbon, winding, long, river meadow; jumped up, and blond heads over The river is deserted that white mushrooms on the glade of the forest! The river was announced with laughter and howling: there is a fight - not a fight, the game is not a game ... And the sun is palette with their meal. - Home, guys! It is time to dinner. - Returned. Everyone is full of Lukokhko, and how many stories! I got sick, caught hedgehog, got lost a little and saw the wolf ... I'm scary! The Muh, and the Kozhevok, the roots of Milk gave him his own roots - Do not drink! retreated ... who catches the leeches on the lava, where the uterus is pounded underwear, who nurses his sister, a two-year-old head, who drags on the rear of Kvaderno Kvadko, and that, tied under the throat, mysteriously something draws in the sand; That in the puddle scored, and this with the updated: splash myself a glorious wreath, all white, yellow, pale-lilac and occasionally a red flower. Those are sleeping on the seat, they are danced to print. Here the girl catches his horse - caught, jumped up and rides on it. And is it, under the sunny heat born and in the apron from the field home brought, afraid of a humble horse horses? .. Mushroom time did not have time to move, look - all the lips of everyone, they have been whipped by SCOME: Crying! And there and raspberries, lingonberry, nut! A childish cry, repeated echo, in the morning and in the morning thundering in the forests. Frightened with stump, aucan, laughter, whether the aunt takes off, clouding chicks, whether the ribbons will jump - soda, turmoil! Here is the old wooder with a lean wing in the bustle ... well, poor bad! Live in the village drains with celebration ... - Pretty, Vanyusha! Walked up a lot, it's time for the work, my native! - But even the work will turn first to Vanya in the elegant side: he sees how the Father's field fertures, as in the loose land throws the grain, how the field is then green begins, as a spike grows, pours grain ; The finished harvest is cut with sickles, they will tee in the sheath, they will be brought to Riga, dried, crop-crushing the tsepami, baked bread on the mill and baked. Heats a fresh loaf baby and in the Field of Okhotny runs after his father. Li Peztsi: "Frames, postmen!" Vanyusha in the village entrances to the king ... However, the envy in the noble child to sow it would be sorry. So, wrap we owe by the way with the other side of the medal. We put the peasant child freely growing, do not study anything, but he will grow, if God is pleased, and not binding to him. Put, he knows the forest paths, Garsets riding, is not afraid of water, but it's mercilessly eating his midges, but he is too familiar with the works ... Once, in the student winter time, I came out of the forest; There was a strong frost. I look, it rises slowly into the mountain of the horse, the WHO brushwort. And, marching important, in the calm of the chiny, the horse leads a peasant in large boots under the coat, in a sheepskin coat, in large mittens. .. And myself with marigolds! - Great, career! - "Go yourself by!" - I hurt you Grozen, how I will see! Where did the firewood from? - "From the forest, internally; Father, you hear, rubit, and I take. " (The woods of the woodcutter was distributed in the forest.) - And what, the father has a big family? "Family is big, yes two people of all the men something: my father is yes I ..." - so it is that! And how to call you? - "Vlas". - And why are you a year old? - "Sixth passed ... well, dead!" - shouted the baby bass, rushed under the booze and faster walked. On this picture so the sun shone, the child was so scolding small, as if all this cardboard was, as if I would like to go to the children's theater! But the boy was a boy lively, real, and woodlovy, and a trust, and a sherry horse, and the snow, the village of the village lying, and the winter sun is cold fire - everything, the entire real Russian was, with a stigma notice, dead winter, that the Russian soul is so It is painfully nice that Russian thoughts instill in the minds, those honest thoughts, who have no will, who have no death - Davi do not give, in which there are so many malice and pain, in which so much love! Play the same, children! Grow on the will! You and the Red Childhood are given to love this scanty field forever, so that you always seemed cute you. Keep your age-old inheritance, love your labor bread - and let the charm of childhood poetry spend you in the native landfill! .. _______________ Now it's time for us to return to the beginning. Noticing that the guys are bold, "Hey, thieves go!" I shouted a Fingal: "They steal, steal!" Well, hitch quickly! " Finghalushka was shooting a serious mine, my belongings were buried under the hay, it was planted with a game, my female lay down, my legs lay down - and I growled angrily. An extensive area of \u200b\u200bdog science was perfectly familiar to him; He began to throw out things that the audience could not go from the place. Missing, laugh! It's not to fear! Command themselves! - "Fingalek, die!" - Do not zastya, Sergey! Do not push, Kuzyah, "Look - Dies - Look!" I myself enjoyed having rolled on the Seine, their noisy fun. Suddenly it became dark in the barn: so quickly darkens on the stage when the thunderstorm is destined. And for sure: the blow thundered over the barn, the rain river was poured into the barn, the actor walked over a deafening laem, and the audience gave rise to a straight! The wide door left, creaked, hit the wall, was fixed again. I looked out: the dark cloud hung over our theater just. Under the major rain, the children fled barely to the village of their own ... And the faithful Fingal stoke the thunderstorms and went out to look for fools.