Poets of the XIX century about the Motherland and native nature - Hypermarket of knowledge. Russian poets of the 19th century about the Motherland, about their native nature and about themselves Russian poets of the 19th century about their native land

Literature lesson in 5th grade. Teacher Savitskaya E.V.

Topic: Russian poets of the 19th century about the Motherland and native nature.

Type of lesson: lesson - travel.

Lesson Objectives:

General education: generalizes students' knowledge of landscape lyrics, teaches them to defend the topic, forms the ability to expressively recite poems, artistically read a prose text of their own composition, develops the ability to analyze a poetic text, teaches the separation of functions

Developing: develops the ability to see the aesthetic value of poetic, pictorial works, evaluate their originality, develops the oral monologue speech of students

Educational: fosters collective responsibility, mutual assistance, interest in literature lessons and in literature in general.

Lesson layout:

Reproductions of paintings by Russian landscape painters

Exhibition of drawings and creative works of students

Music "The Seasons" by P. I. Tchaikovsky or Vivaldi

Decorated tables of groups of seasons

Jury table

Preparation for the lesson, homework.

For the lesson, the children are divided into groups according to the seasons. They were given the task to represent their time of year.

Each group is given a task:

1. Prepare an expressive reading of a poem of a poem (Spring - “Spring Waters” by Tyutchev, summer - Fet “Rye ripens over a hot field ...” or “Swallows are gone ...”, autumn - Pushkin “Autumn” or any other, winter - Tyutchev "Enchanted winter...")

3. Choose another poem about "your" season. Prepare his expressive recitation by heart

4. Decorate the table of “your” season with colors or symbols of the season, for example, applications of snowflakes, a young leaf or flower. You can change into costumes and imagine your season

Tips for defense: one student reads a poem, another shares his impressions about him, the third decorates the table, the fourth reads another poem by heart, the fifth tells a story about the season. Think over the sequence of parts, who will perform, rehearse the performance. Everyone can contribute to the design of the table. You can draw illustrations for poems, a portrait of your season. You can compose and read your own poems.

Attention! You must meet the time -performancelasts 7 minutes

During the classes

* The lesson begins against the background of the music of P. I. Tchaikovsky "The Seasons"

1.Introductory speech of the teacher:

We have an unusual lesson today. Today we will travel through the calendar. And the poems about nature that you know, your illustrations, your creative work. For the lesson, you prepared to defend your season, decorated your tables. Your performance will be evaluated by a strict and competent jury: high school students.

It's winter now. (The teacher shows the corresponding page of the calendar. Tchaikovsky's music sounds). The trees seem to be dressed in white fur coats and hats. Snow covered the ground in a soft fluffy carpet. This is how Russian artists conveyed the beauty of their native nature. (Then the teacher leads a tour of an impromptu exhibition (reproductions of paintings by artists), asks questions to the class)

Winter has come to visit us. Let's listen to her performance.

2. Performance of groups (representation of their season)

Performing group "Winter"

Time will pass, the snow will darken, swell, streams will run, spring will come. (The teacher shows the corresponding page of the calendar. The corresponding music by Tchaikovsky sounds). And here's how they portrayed it young time years of Russian painters.

Performing group "Spring"

And after spring comes a bright, clear, hot summer. All nature is fragrant and languishing from violent forces. The sky is bright, the grasses are juicy, the scent of flowers is in the air. Summer brings us many fruits. The artist Shishkin was especially fond of portraying.

Performing group "Summer"

Finally we got to autumn, a sad and at the same time bright time. Pushkin was especially fond of autumn and dedicated many of his poems to it. She inspired the poet. Among the paintings dedicated to autumn, the works of Levitan stand out. Let's give the word autumn.

Performing group "Autumn"

3. The final word of the teacher.

You did a wonderful job. Each group found its own original ways of solving the defense. Everyone was creative and interesting. But still, who, according to the jury, was the best? Dear jury, you have the floor.

The poets we talked about today lived in different time, but all of them are united by one thing - love for the Motherland, native nature, the ability to feel especially strongly, to see especially vigilantly, to notice what is hidden from the gaze of the lazy and indifferent. And talented writers and poets have one more gift: the gift to “draw with words”, just as artists draw with a pencil and a brush.

Poems reveal to us the beauty of our native land, call to protect all living things, teach us to understand the language of nature. Poetry is also a great miracle. But it will be revealed only to those who are kind, sensitive, attentive.

Biography of Nikitin Ivan Savvich. Nikitin Ivan Savvich is a famous poet. Born September 21, 1824 in Voronezh, in the family of a tradesman. In 1839 Nikitin entered the Voronezh seminary. By 1857, Nikitin was fully defined as a poet. In his poetry took place: public motives, personal experiences, nature, folk life. Nikitin from childhood fell in love with nature, knew how to merge with it, feel its soul and gave a number of its beautiful paintings ("Evening after the rain", "Storm", "Morning", "October 19", etc.). Ivan Savvich died in 1861.

Native nature and Motherland in the poem by I. S. Nikitin "Morning". Under the skillful pen of the poet in the poem "Morning" nature gradually comes to life: the stars fade and go out; there is still silence around; a sensitive reed is dozing, the leaves are frozen, covered with silvery dew; behind the lake you can barely see the water meadows, spread over them in a light veil of fog, white as steam. The ducks swept past with a noise and disappeared. The air is filled with sounds and smells. A new working day begins, the fishermen woke up, removed the nets from the poles, the birds sing songs; smiles at the awakening of the forest. A plowman with a plow went out into the field. In the poem, the strength of the morning is gradually increasing. With the first rays of the sun, movement in the surrounding nature begins. Man is subject to nature. The poem is filled with sadness and joy at the same time. Longing is heard in the lines: “Do not pain, you soul! Take a break from your worries." But despite this, he ends the poem not with a complaint, but with a greeting to all living things: “Hello, sun, and a cheerful morning!” In the last lines, all the energy, all the prowess of a Russian person who rejoices in the beauty of the morning. The poet likes everything in Russia, he admires her, her sounds and beauty, her people.

Biography of Fedor Ivanovich Tyutchev. (1803 - 1873) Fyodor Ivanovich was born in the village of Ovstug, Oryol province. He came from an old but not rich family. And as was customary in noble families, Tyutchev received an excellent education at home. His life was unusual, and he combined his passion for poetry with foreign policy service. For many years he lived abroad. Tyutchev's poetic work is very multifaceted. The poet combined both politics and love in his poems. F. I. Tyutchev is a poet of thought, he not only, for example, depicts a landscape in poems for us, but shows his attitude to the world, to his homeland.

Native nature in the poem by F.I. Tyutchev "Enchant winter". The title of this poem is rather unusual. At first, you might think that the word winter comes to the fore, but it is not. The author called winter a sorceress, and sorcery is magic. And since this word introduces some kind of intrigue, then all the same, sorcery is in the foreground. To create a sense of a fairy tale and mystery, Tyutchev uses various artistic means: epithets - a light chain of downy, wonderful life, etc .; personifications - an enchantress, the forest sleeps, enchanted by a magical dream, etc. The poem sings of winter calm. Silence makes you think about human life. After all, winter is the season that is opposite to summer. If people work in the summer, they rest in the winter.

The author shows calmness with the help of white tones, which he uses in the poem. Fedor Ivanovich Tyutchev depicts nature as a living being that lives and changes. The poet shows how closely nature is connected with human life.

Biography of Ivan Zakharovich Surikov. (1841 - 1880) This is a self-taught Russian poet. Born in the village of Novoselovo, and lived in the village with his mother in the Yaroslavl province. My father had a small shop in Moscow. The family lived in poverty. When Ivan was 10 years old, he moved to Moscow. Here he helped his father in the shop. He published his first collection of poems at the age of 16. In verse, he showed the difficult village life. His poems were distinguished by their melodiousness and melodiousness. And apparently that's why many of his poems have become folk songs.

Native nature and Motherland in the poem by I.Z. Surikov "Winter". In this poem, the poet depicts the beauty of winter nature, conveys a joyful mood. The poems speak of the coming of winter. The poem "Winter" presents a living image of winter. The author uses various artistic means to depict winter (Comparisons: “that he covered himself with a wonderful hat”, “it was as if he was dressed in a veil”; personifications: “the forest covered himself”, “fell asleep”; epithets: “with a wonderful hat”). The onset of winter in the poem was waiting for nature and people. In the first part of the poem, nature (field, forest) is waiting for winter, and in the second, people are also waiting for winter (children are happily building snow mountains).

Conclusion. Many poets of the 19th century sought in their work to show the beauty of their native nature, to convey to us the deep feeling that they have for the Motherland. There is no ostentatious beauty in Russian nature, it is modest and simple, but at the same time it is full of calmness and expanse, sedateness and grandeur. If the artist conveys the beauty of nature with the help of paints and brushes, then the poet - with the help of the word.

Native nature in the poems of Russian poets of the 19th century Lyric poetry is one of the three types of literature, the main content of which is the thoughts, feelings and experiences of the lyrical hero. These experiences can be caused by various reasons: unrequited love, homesickness, the joy of meeting friends, philosophical reflections, contemplation of pictures of nature. Images of nature are most often found in the verses of Russian poets. And these motifs are always colored with love, admiration, admiration for the forces of the surrounding world. So, the poem by Ya. P. Polonsky “Two gloomy clouds over the mountains ...” paints a picture of the beginning of an evening thunderstorm. Nature is strong and powerful: lightning is bright, thunder is strong. Everything around trembles before the elements, even the rock sighs plaintively. The poet uses the technique of personification, endowing the clouds and the rock with human traits (the clouds wander, the rock groans and dies). In this way he revives nature. Despite the image of a formidable element, the lyrical hero has no fear of her, but there is admiration for her strength and power. In the poem by F. I. Tyutchev “Reluctantly and carried a little ...” a summer thunderstorm is also described. And again nature is endowed with human qualities: the sun looks, the earth frowns. Before us is the earth and the expectation of the elements. She, like a person, is worried, trembling, waiting for the inevitable. The poem is very bright: everything but the circle is colored green, white, blue. We seem to feel the smell of grass, dusty earth, the first drops of rain, we hear distant peals of thunder, the howling of the wind. The poem is fast paced and fast paced. Here a jet broke through from behind a cloud of blue lightning - A white and volatile flame Bordered its edges. Lyrical hero is not afraid of the elements, but admires its power, admires its strength. No less expressive is the poem by I. S. Nikitin “Bright twinkling of stars ...”. Before us is a quiet light night. All sounds can be distinguished: the rustling of a horse in the gravel, the singing of a corncrake, the rustle of reeds. The sound-copy with the help of the consonant "l" gives the poem melodiousness, smoothness, malleability. The sleepy forest looks into the mirror of the bay; In the thicket of the silent Darkness lies. The sound "r", on the contrary, allows you to hear the crackling of branches burning in a fire. Heard between the bushes Laughter and conversation; It's hot with mowers A fire is lit. The lyrical hero seems to be hiding and watching the nightlife of nature. He is careful and careful, does not want to disturb the silence of the night. At such moments, the poet visits inspiration. All the poems of Russian poets about nature are unusually lyrical, melodious and beautiful. The contemplation of landscapes gives rise to poetic soul only the best feelings.

Russian poetry is unthinkable without one of its main themes - the theme of nature. The literature of the 19th century left us picturesque, lyrical, touching, heartfelt sketches of the charming corners of nature, full of charm and sincerity. Let us touch them with our hearts as we travel through the seasons and through the pages of our favorite volumes of poetry.

Oh, you winter-winter!

One of the creators of the famous Kozma Prutkov - Alexei Zhemchuzhnikov - in a short line expressed general admiration for the fabulous beauty of the Russian winter: "So this first snow is sweet to me ...". The poetry of native nature, its splendor and brilliance, is also depicted by Pushkin in the 5th chapter of Eugene Onegin. Do you remember the scene in Tatyana's Morning, when she wakes up and looks out the window and sees with joy the whitened yard, the roofs, the frosty and fur coats of the trees, the "brilliant carpets" in the fields?

Together with his heroine, the poet rejoices in cheerful spiritual uplift and creative inspiration. This time of the year is dear to the Russian heart, forcing the blood to boil, awakening the vitality. Consonant with Pushkin's lines and poetry of native nature, presented in the work of Nekrasov, Polonsky, Maikov, Fet, Bunin and many other masters of the artistic word. They left us their amazing poems, from which it breathes frosty freshness, cheerfulness, a cheerful, life-affirming beginning is clearly felt. Moreover, the poetry of native nature is the poetry of spiritualized beauty and strength, grandeur and deep philosophical content. This is how winter appears in the fragment of Nekrasov's poem "Frost-Red Nose" known to us - "It is not the wind that rages over the forest ...". The fluffy tops of pine trees, the glow of ice on the rivers, the scattering of colored lights-snowflakes in the glare of the cold winter sun - this is it, the dazzling beauty that the poetry of native nature sings about.

green noise

Joyful to the Russian man are the amusements of mother winter. But with it opens and new page our life. And native nature in Russian poetry of springtime appears before us in its other, primordial charm. F. I. Tyutchev depicts spring in the form of a young enchantress, a mischievous mocker who is not afraid of the evil winter witch and conquers everyone with her perfection. And together with her arrival, larks begin to ring in the skies, “green noise” is buzzing along the earth, gardens are blooming, the earth is blooming, the human soul is also blooming. N. A. Nekrasov writes about this in his poem of the same name. Offenses are forgiven, hardships are forgotten, the soul yearns for renewal, joy, love. No wonder in our minds spring is associated with youth, bold plans, bright hopes. Because one of the most frequently used by authors artistic techniques- personification, emphasizing the unity of wildlife and man.

Ah, red summer!

The poetry of native nature in the verses of Russian poets of the 19th century, dedicated to summer, is imbued with exultation of joy, gratitude for the generosity of the earth. Here is Tyutchev's delight before indomitable thunderstorms, and Lermontov's lush flowering of the fields, when "the yellowing field is agitated", and raspberry plums fill the air with a sweet intoxicating aroma. The poetry of summer is spiritualized, filled with life, movement, colors, sounds, smells.

A. I. Bunin associates this season with childhood, soaked in the sun, the happiness of being, carelessness, when the forest seems like an endless palace, the sand, like hot silk, caresses the feet, and the pine bark warms with warmth, like an affectionate, hard-working, callused paternal palm . Poets emphasize that it is from nature that we, her children, should learn kindness and harmony.

Oh charm...

And finally, autumn. This is the favorite time of the year for most of our lyricists, which is not surprising at all! Pushkin, for example, admitted that he was "happy with her alone." Autumn colors, fragile, bright beauty, the last surge of the vitality of nature before a long winter sleep - all this Tyutchev very subtly and accurately called the meek smile of withering. And the flying cobwebs, and the clear smile of a sunbeam through heavy clouds, and the lightness of transparent evenings, and the sadly orphaned earth - everything is beautiful, touching, infinitely dear to us.

Russian poets are characterized by the folk idea of ​​autumn - the time of harvesting, summing up, leisurely admiring the world around them, understanding the frailty of everything earthly, wise, humble acceptance of the laws of nature.

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 ...

But this steppe of my love is alien;
But this snow is flying silver
And for a vicious country - too pure
Never gladdens my heart.

His clothes are cold, unchanged
Hidden from the eyes of the grave ridge
And forgotten dust, but to me, but priceless to me.

I ran through the countries of Russia,
Like a poor wanderer among people;
Everywhere the serpent's deceit hisses;
I thought: there are no friends in the world!

There is no tender friendship,
And disinterested, and simple;
But you came, uninvited guest,
And he gave me peace again!

I merge with you feelings
In merry speeches I drink happiness;
But I can't stand treacherous maidens,
And I don't trust them anymore!

I'm sad because I love you
And I know: your blooming youth
The insidious persecution will not spare the rumor.
For every bright day or sweet moment
You will pay fate with tears and longing.
I'm sad... because you're having fun.

Lighted up, my friends, the war;
And banners of honor unfolded;
She is a treasured pipe
Beckons to the fields of bloody revenge!

Excuse me, noisy feasts,
Praise worthy tunes,
And Bacchus sweet gifts,
Holy Russia and red virgins!

I will forget you, love
Vanity and youth of poison,
And I'll fly, free, again
Catch a wreath of immortal glory!

Farewell, unwashed Russia,
Country of slaves, country of masters,
And you, blue uniforms,
And you, their devoted people.

Perhaps behind the wall of the Caucasus
I will hide from your pashas,
From their all-seeing eye
From their all-hearing ears.

So goodbye! For the first time this sound
It disturbs my chest so cruelly.
Goodbye! - six letters bring so much torment!
Take away everything that I now love!
I will meet the gaze of her beautiful eyes,
And maybe, who knows... for the last time!

I love my homeland, but with a strange love!
My mind won't defeat 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 - for what, I do not know myself -
Her steppes are cold silence,
Her boundless forests sway,
The floods of her rivers are like seas;

On a country road I like to ride in a cart
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.