Vasily Terkin. Who gets in the way of the western edge of Russia? In general, beaten grated burnt
Today we are talking about Berlin.
Jokes off, give Berlin.
And for a long time not in sight,
Let's say ancient city Wedge.
And on the Oder hardly
Even old people remember
How they took six months from the battle
Locality Borki.
And under those under Borki
Every stone, every stake
For three lives went into memory
We are with a fellow countryman.
There was a countryman not old, not young,
At war since that day
And he was just as funny
Like me.
The guy had to drape
Cheerful spirit always cherished,
Repeated: "Forward, to the west",
Moving east.
Incidentally, when leaving
How cities were handed over
More like he was in vogue
More famous then.
And strangely, it happened
Honor to him alone
So even the generals
It was like they didn't count.
Different times, different dates.
Divided since ancient times:
Soldiers surrender cities
The generals take them.
In general, beaten, grated, burnt,
Wound marked double,
Surrounded in forty-one
On earth he walked native.
A soldier walked, as others walked,
To unknown lands:
“What is where it is, Russia,
At what line is yours? .. "
And throwing a family in captivity,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.
But no matter how dark
The truth is the truth, the lie is the lie.
We retreated before the deadline,
We retreated far
But they always said:
- You lie! ..
And now look to the west
From the capital. Native land!
No wonder he was locked up
Behind the iron wall.
And to a small village
That side from captivity
Not by pike command
Fully returned again
By the command of our strength,
Russian, own.
Well, where is she, Russia,
At what doors rattles!
And, forever knocking down the hunt
Get into a fight at your own risk,
Her enemy - what a number! —
Fell prone and paws apart.
Over which capital is cool
Soared your flag, Motherland!
Wait for the fireworks
To say exactly.
Different times, different dates.
True, the burden is not easy ...
But let's continue about the soldier,
As they said, countryman.
Home, wife, children,
Brother, sister, father or mother
You have in the world -
There is a place to send a letter.
And our soldier
The addressee is white light.
Except the radio guys
There are no close relatives.
The most precious thing on earth
Kohl you have in reserve
The window where you can
Knock at a certain hour.
On a trip abroad
On the other side
Oh, how carefully kept
Pain-dream about that window!
And our soldier
Though now the end of the war -
There is no window, no hut,
No hostess, even married,
Not a son, but there was, guys, -
I painted at home with a pipe...
They advanced near Smolensk.
Got rest. My countryman
Appealed on a halt
To the commander: so and so, -
Allow me to leave
Say, the case is expensive,
Like, since a local resident,
To the courtyard - a stone's throw.
Allowed within the time limit...
The region is known to the bush.
But he looks - not that road,
The area doesn't seem to be the same.
Here is the hill, here is the river,
Wilderness, tall weeds for a soldier,
Yes, there is a board on the column,
Like, the village of Red Bridge.
And found that they were alive
And just tell him
All in truth, that the serviceman -
Trustworthy orphan.
At the board at the fork,
Taking off his cap, our soldier
Stood like a grave
And it's time for him to go back.
And, leaving the courtyard,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What did he carry in his soul...
But, homeless and rootless,
Back in the battalion
The soldier ate his cold soup
After all, and he cried.
On the edge of a dry ditch
With a bitter, childish trembling of the mouth,
I cried, sitting with a spoon in my right,
With bread in the left - an orphan.
Wept, maybe for a son,
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.
Should have been a soldier and in grief
Eat and rest
Because, friends, soon
A long journey awaited him.
To the land of the Soviet region
He walked that path in the war, in labor.
And the war went like this -
Kitchens in the back, where the hell are they!
Forget about hunger
For a good war.
Joking or something, the day is a city,
Two days - regional.
The time is different, the time is different -
Bay, drive, adopt.
Belarus native,
Ukraine golden,
Hello, singing, and goodbye.
Forget about thirst
Because he drinks beer
In war, not everyone
The one that took the brewery.
So, right off the bat, not right off the bat
Departing from native land,
Border rivers water
We crossed over with fights.
The account is settled, the payment is in progress
Out in the world, clean.
But let's finish about the soldier,
About the same orphan.
Where is he right now.
Maybe he fell in some battle,
With small inscription plywood
It was covered in wet snow.
Or was he hurt again
Rested as duty dictates,
And again on the battlefield
Did you take Tilsit with us?
And leaving Russia
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.
Maybe it's even more bottomless here
And it hurts the living soul,
Is it so, no, we must remember
About his holy tear.
If that tear with your hands
From Russia happened
In German this stone
To convey, it would burn through"
The bill is big, payback is coming.
And behind that great suffering
Don't forget guys
Let's remember the soldier's account,
Who was left an orphan.
Terrible account, terrible retribution
For millions of souls and bodies.
Pay - and the matter is holy,
But in addition to the soldier,
That he was orphaned in the war.
How far is Berlin?
Do not count, walk, pitch, -
Half less than half
That road from Klin
From Moscow have already passed.
Day follows night,
Let's draw a line with a bayonet.
But on the bright day of victory
Let's remember, brothers, during the conversation
About the orphan soldier...
Quest Source: Decision 5752. Unified State Examination 2017. Russian language. I.P. Tsybulko. 36 options.
Task 17. Place all punctuation marks: indicate the number (s) in the place of which (s) should (s) be a comma (s).
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.
Should have been a soldier and in grief
Eat and rest
A long journey awaited him.
(A. T. Tvardovsky)
Solution.
1. Find in the text words that answer the question "who, what?". If such a word is not the subject of the sentence, this is an appeal. Separate with commas.
Wept (1) may (2) be (3) about a son,
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.
Should have been a soldier and in grief
Eat and rest
Because (4) friends (5) soon
A long journey awaited him.
2. Find introductory words in the text.
Wept (1) may (2) be (3) about a son,
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.
3. We write out the numbers, in the place of which commas should be in the sentence.
In response, we write in numbers without spaces and commas, in any order.
Today we are talking about Berlin.
Jokes off, give Berlin.
And for a long time not in sight,
For example, the ancient city of Klin.
And on the Oder hardly
Even old people remember
How they took six months from the battle
Locality Borki.
And under those under Borki
Every stone, every stake
For three lives went into memory
We are with a fellow countryman.
There was a countryman not old, not young,
At war since that day
And he was just as funny
Like me.
The guy had to drape
Cheerful spirit always cherished,
Repeated: "Forward, to the west",
Moving east.
Incidentally, when leaving
How cities were handed over
More like he was in vogue
More famous then.
And strangely, it happened
Honor to him alone
So even the generals
It was like they didn't count.
Different times, different dates.
Divided since ancient times:
Soldiers surrender cities
The generals take them.
In general, beaten, grated, burnt,
Wound marked double,
Surrounded in forty-one
On earth he walked native.
A soldier walked, as others walked,
To unknown lands:
“What is where it is, Russia,
At what line is yours? .. "
And throwing a family in captivity,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.
But no matter how dark
The truth is the truth, the lie is the lie.
We retreated before the deadline,
We retreated far
But they always said:
- You lie! ..
And now look to the west
From the capital. Native land!
No wonder he was locked up
Behind the iron wall.
And to a small village
That side from captivity
Not at will
Fully returned again
By the command of our strength,
Russian, own.
Well, where is she, Russia,
At what doors rattles!
And, forever knocking down the hunt
Get into a fight at your own risk,
Her enemy - what a number! -
Fell prone and paws apart.
Over which capital is cool
Soared your flag, Motherland!
Wait for the fireworks
To say exactly.
Different times, different dates.
True, the burden is not easy ...
But let's continue about the soldier,
As they said, countryman.
Home, wife, children,
Brother, sister, father or mother
You have in the world -
There is a place to send a letter.
And our soldier
The addressee is white light.
Except the radio guys
There are no close relatives.
The most precious thing on earth
Kohl you have in reserve
The window where you can
Knock at a certain hour.
On a trip abroad
On the other side
Oh, how carefully kept
Pain-dream about that window!
And our soldier
Though now the end of the war, -
There is no window, no hut,
No hostess, even married,
Not a son, but there was, guys, -
I painted at home with a pipe ...
They advanced near Smolensk.
Got rest. My countryman
Appealed on a halt
To the commander: so and so, -
Allow me to leave
Say, the case is expensive,
Like, since a local resident,
To the courtyard - a stone's throw.
Allowed within the time limit...
The region is known to the bush.
But he looks - not that road,
The area doesn't seem to be the same.
Here is the hill, here is the river,
Wilderness, tall weeds for a soldier,
Yes, there is a board on the column,
Like, the village of Red Bridge.
And found that they were alive
And just tell him
All in truth, that the serviceman -
Trustworthy orphan.
At the board at the fork,
Taking off his cap, our soldier
Stood like a grave
And it's time for him to go back.
And, leaving the courtyard,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What did he carry in his soul...
But, homeless and rootless,
Back in the battalion
The soldier ate his cold soup
After all, and he cried.
On the edge of a dry ditch
With a bitter, childish trembling of the mouth,
I cried, sitting with a spoon in my right,
With bread in the left - an orphan.
Wept, maybe for a son,
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.
Should have been a soldier and in grief
Eat and rest
Because, friends, soon
A long journey awaited him.
To the land of the Soviet region
He walked that path in the war, in labor.
And the war went like this -
Kitchens in the back, where the hell are they!
Forget about hunger
For a good war.
Joking or something, the day is a city,
Two days - regional.
The time is different, the time is different -
Bay, drive, adopt.
Belarus native,
Ukraine golden,
Hello, singing, and goodbye.
Forget about thirst
Because he drinks beer
In war, not everyone
The one that took the brewery.
So, right off the bat, not right off the bat
Departing from native land,
Border rivers water
We crossed over with fights.
The account is settled, the payment is in progress
Out in the world, clean.
But let's finish about the soldier,
About the same orphan.
Where is he right now.
Maybe he fell in some battle,
With small inscription plywood
It was covered in wet snow.
Or was he hurt again
Rested as duty dictates,
And again on the battlefield
Did you take Tilsit with us?
And leaving Russia
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.
Maybe it's even more bottomless here
And it hurts the living soul,
Is it so, no, we must remember
About his holy tear.
If that tear with your hands
From Russia happened
In German this stone
To convey, it would burn through"
The bill is big, payback is coming.
And behind that great suffering
Don't forget guys
Let's remember the soldier's account,
Who was left an orphan.
Terrible account, terrible retribution
For millions of souls and bodies.
Pay - and the matter is holy,
But in addition to the soldier,
That he was orphaned in the war.
How far is Berlin?
Do not count, walk, pitch, -
Half less than half
That road from Klin
From Moscow have already passed.
Day follows night,
Let's draw a line with a bayonet.
But on the bright day of victory
Let's remember, brothers, during the conversation
About the orphan soldier...
- 12.
And in the midst of the battle
Today, maybe, just about,
Together with the shore, with the land
A platoon will be dropped into the water.However, everything is habitual, -
The term of the war, that the life of a century.
From the frontier outpost
To the Moscow-river of the capital
And back - so many rivers!Here is the last fighter
Gets out on the sand
And chews the cracker immediately,
Because - in the Dnieper got wet,Wet himself, rustling his pants.
Nothing! - That's the landing.
- We're coming. The Dnieper is behind us
What about Comrade Lieutenant?The battle thundered for the crossing,
And below, a little to the south -
Germans from left to right,
Late, they made their way.But don't miss it anymore
Terkin strictly says:
- Let them surrender on the left,
Here, while the reception is closed,And on the left on the move, on the move
Bayonets arrived in time
They were pushed into the water, into the water,
And the water is flowing...And still between the shores
Indiscriminately, at random
The pile bombs helped
Drive, roll over ...But already from the cellars,
From bushes, forest lairs
There was a people - kindred souls -
Along the roadsides…To the headquarters on the eastern coast
Braided stitch, side
A certain German without blemishes,
Cheerful honest people.From the crossing?
- From the crossing.
Just from the Dnieper.
Swimming, you mean?
- swam, the devil,
Because the heat has come...Fed up, damn it!
Purebred.
- He hurries into captivity, as if to a halt ...But already a platoon favorite -
Terkin, did not get into jokes.
He smoked, looked casually,
Busy with his mind.
Behind him is the road
Many times it was longer.And he was silent not offended,
Not to blame anyone, -
Simply, I knew and saw more,
Lost and Saved...Mother Earth is my own,
All Smolensk relatives,
Forgive me for what - I do not know
Only you forgive me!
Not in captivity of you cruel,
On the road to the front
And in the native rear deep
Leaves your Terkin.
The bitter age has passed,
Doesn't turn back.What are you, brother, Vasily Terkin,
Are you crying like...
- Guilty...
About the orphan soldier
Today we are talking about Berlin.
Jokes off, give Berlin.
And for a long time not in sight,
For example, the ancient city of Klin.And on the Oder hardly
Even old people remember
How they took six months from the battle
Locality Borki.And under those under Borki
Every stone, every stake
For three lives went into memory
We are with a fellow countryman.There was a countryman not old, not young,
At war since that day
And he was just as funny
Like me.The guy had to drape
Cheerful spirit always shore,
Repeated: "Forward, to the west",
Moving east.Incidentally, when leaving
How cities were handed over
More like he was in vogue
More famous then.And strangely, it happened
Honor to him alone
So even the generals
It was like they didn't count.Different times, different dates.
Divided since ancient times labor:
Soldiers surrender cities
The generals take them.In general, beaten, grated, burnt,
Wound marked double,
Surrounded in forty-one
On earth he walked native.A soldier walked, as others walked,
To unknown lands:
"What is where it is, Russia,
At what line is yours? .. "And throwing a family in captivity,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.But no matter how dark
The truth is the truth, the lie is the lie.
We retreated before the deadline,
We retreated far
But they always said:
- You lie! ..And now look to the west
From the capital. Native land!
No wonder he was locked up
Behind the iron wall.And to a small village
That side from captivity
Not at will
Fully returned againBy the command of our strength,
Russian, own.
Well, where is she, Russia,
At what doors rattles!And, forever knocking down the hunt
Get into a fight at your own risk,
Her enemy - what a number! -
Fell prone and paws apart.Over which capital is cool
Soared your flag, Motherland!
Wait for the fireworks
To say exactly.Different times, different dates.
True, the burden is not easy ...
But let's continue about the soldier,
As they said, countryman.Home, wife, children,
Brother, sister, father or mother
You have in the world -
There is a place to send a letter.And our soldier
The addressee is white light.
Except the radio guys
There are no close relatives.The most precious thing on earth
Kohl you have in reserve
The window where you can
Knock at a certain hour.On a trip abroad
On the other side
Oh, how carefully kept
Pain-dream about that window!And our soldier
Though now the end of the war, -
There is no window, no hut,
No hostess, even married,
Not a son, but there was, guys, -
I painted at home with a pipe ...They advanced near Smolensk.
Got rest. My countryman
Appealed on a halt
To the commander: so and so, -Allow me to leave
Say, the case is expensive,
Like, since a local resident,
To the courtyard - a stone's throw.Allowed within the time limit...
The region is known to the bush.
But he looks - not that road,
The area doesn't seem to be the same.Here is the hill, here is the river,
Wilderness, tall weeds for a soldier,
Yes, there is a board on the column,
Like, the village of Red Bridge.And found that they were alive
And just tell him
All in truth, that the serviceman -
Trustworthy orphan.At the board at the fork,
Taking off his cap, our soldier
Stood like a grave
And it's time for him to go back.And, leaving the courtyard,
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What did he carry in his soul ...But, homeless and rootless,
Back in the battalion
The soldier ate his cold soup
After all, and he cried.On the edge of a dry ditch
With a bitter, childish trembling of the mouth,
I cried, sitting with a spoon in my right,
With bread in the left, - an orphan.Wept, maybe for a son,
About the wife, about anything else,
About myself that I knew: from now on
There is no one to cry about him.Should have been a soldier and in grief
Eat and rest
Because, friends, soon
A long journey awaited him.To the land of the Soviet region
That path went in war, in labor.And the war went like this -
Kitchens in the back, where the hell are they!Forget about hunger
For a good war.
Joking or something, the day is a city,
Two days - regional.The time is different, the time is different -
Bay, drive, adopt.
Belarus native,
Ukraine golden,
Hello, singing, and goodbye.Forget about thirst
because he drinks beer
In war, not everyone
The one that took the brewery.So, right off the bat, not right off the bat
Departing from native land,
Border rivers water
We crossed over with fights.Account settled, payback in progress
Out in the world, clean.
But let's finish about the soldier,
About the same orphan.Where is he right now.
Maybe he fell in some battle,
With small inscription plywood
It was covered in wet snow.Or was he hurt again
Rested as duty dictates,
And again on the battlefield
Did you take Tilsit with us?And leaving Russia
Hurrying after the war,
What he thought I don't know
What he carried in his soul.Maybe it's even more bottomless here
And it hurts the living soul,
Is it so, no, we must remember
About his holy tear.If that tear with your hands
From Russia happened
In German this stone
To convey, it would burn through"The bill is big, the payoff is coming.
And behind that great suffering
Don't forget guys
Let's remember the soldier's account,
Who was left an orphan.Terrible account, terrible retribution
For millions of souls and bodies.
Pay - and the matter is holy,
But in addition to the soldier,
That he was orphaned in the war.How far is Berlin?
Do not count, walk, pitch, -
Half less than half
That road from Klin
From Moscow have already passed.The day follows the night
Let's draw a line.
But on the bright day of victory
Let's remember, brothers, during the conversation
About the orphan soldier...
On the way to Berlin
On the way to Berlin
The gray fluff of feather beds curls.Wires of silent lines,
Wet linden branches
The fluff of featherbeds twisted like frost,
Stuck on the sides of the cars.And the wheels of guns, kitchens
Mud and snow interfere with fluff.
And lies down on the overcoat
Wet blizzard with fluff ...Boring foreign climate,
Alien red-brick land,
But the war itself
And the earth trembles habitually,
Crispy crushed tiled stone
Shaking off the roofs…Mother Russia, we are half the world
Your wheels have passed
Behind leaving somewhere
Your rivers are a wide stretch.Long, long behind the convoy
To the edge of a stranger stretched after
The white color of your birch
And along the way, he disappeared.With the Volga, with ancient Moscow
How far away you are.
Between us and you
Three not our languages.Late afternoon get up not Russian
Above the bad side.
Crispy tile crushed stone
Wet in a puddle under the wall.Everywhere inscriptions, marks,
Arrows, signs, badges,
wire mesh rings,
Fences, doors, cages -
All purposely for melancholy ...Our mother earth is ours,
In days of trouble and in days of victory
No you are brighter and more beautiful
And there is nothing more desirable to the heart.Thinking about the soldier
unpredictable fate
Even lie down in a fraternal grave
Better, it seems, in you.
