Modern poets about the war script. Evening of military poetry “I heard so much about the war! Reader: "Having remembered the names for an hour ..."
Literary lounge "Poems of the war years"
Subject : The Great Patriotic War in the lyrics of contemporaries and post-war poets.
WMC :
Poems of poets Alexander Tvardovsky,IN AND. Lebedev-Kumach, Mikhail Svetlov, Konstantin Simonov, Yulia Drunina, Bulat Okudzhava, Robert Rozhdestvensky, Anna Akhmatova and others.
A slide show specially prepared for this living room, containing general photographs of the war years and war newsreels.
Music and songs of the war years.
Goals :
educational :
teaching creative perception of a lyrical work;
trace the history of the Great Patriotic War, the history of the country through the lyrical works of the war years;
to update and deepen students' knowledge of the Second World War.
Educational :
to develop the cognitive interest of students;
to develop the creative and acting abilities of students.
Nurturing:
instill a sense of patriotism and civic consciousness; feelings of humanism and altruism;
to cultivate a value attitude, respect for the people and events of the Second World War.
Tasks:
Develop reading and acting skills.
Show metasubject connections: literature, history, music.
Participants and spectators of the event - teachers, elementary school students from grades 1 to 4.
The literary lounge is built on the basis of a theatrical performance, artistic poetry reading by students, musical accompaniment and an exclusive demonstration of a selection of electronic slides about the Second World War. Multimedia accompaniment plays an important role in creating a special atmosphere that brings participants and spectators closer to wartime.
Equipment : Projector, laptop, screen, tape recorder, amplifying speakers.
Scenario
Leading. Sl.1
Today we have gathered with you in this hall to once again talk about the Second World War, about the great Victory, and we will talk about it in a wonderful language, in the language of poetry. It seems that war and poetry are incompatible things, but they are not. From the very first days of the war and until the most victorious May 1945, and to this day, poets have written and continue to write about the war. And these are amazing poems - poignant, tragic and very honest.
On June 22, 1941, on the shortest night of the year, the Germans treacherously invaded the territory of our Motherland. It was summer, the time of holidays, vacations, the country lived its peaceful life.Sl.2 The high school students have just passed their final exams.(Click) And in an instant, everything was broken. Bombs fell on our peaceful cities, the enemy went along our roads, villages, cities, sparing no one, no men, no women, no old people, no children. (W.3) Already on June 24, 1941, a poem by V.I. Lebedev-Kumach "Holy War".
It started like this:
Get up, great country,
Get up for the death fight
With dark fascist power,
With the damned horde.
Soon the composer Aleksandrov wrote music to these verses. And on June 27, the ensemble of the Red Army performed the song for the first time at the Belorussky railway station of the capital in front of the soldiers going to the front.. (Click on the picture)
The song "Holy War" sounds, newsreel footage.
During the war years, this song sounded everywhere. Under her sounds, the first echelons went to the front, she accompanied the soldiers on the march, in military suffering and the hard life of the rear.
She was imbued with a sense of the severity of the trials that befell our people.
The fact that this war will be cruel, that whether a Russian person will remain will depend on its outcome, the Russian people will also be written by Anna Andreevna Akhmatova in her poem “Courage"
We know what's on the scales nowAnd what is happening now.The hour of courage has struck on our clocks,And courage will not leave us.It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,It is not bitter to be homeless, -And we will save you, Russian speech,Great Russian word.We will carry you free and clean,And we will give to our grandchildren, and we will save from captivityForever!
The enemy rushed forward, the Germans occupied city after city, came close to Moscow, surrounded Leningrad. Our soldiers did not spare their lives, they fought for every meter of their land.(Sk.5)
A mortal battle broke out
endless!Even the deadrevived againthey went out
from damp gravesto help the living
in a fierce battleto take againdeath for the motherland!Whowas weakthen became strong.Who was strongbecame morestronger.And the shocked enemies shouted:"Maybe the Russians
bewitched?!
Burn them with fireand they live!You will pierce themarrow,and they live!You will kill them a hundred timesand they live!And theyliveand fight!"
(R. Rozhdestvensky)
This is how our soldiers fought, because they fought for their homes, for the lives of their children.(W.6) Here is how the poet Konstantin Simonov wrote about it.
The major brought the boy on a gun carriage
.
Mother died. The son did not say goodbye to her.
For ten years in this and that world
These ten days will be credited to him.
He was taken from the fortress, from Brest.
The carriage was scratched by bullets.
It seemed to the father that the place was safer
From now on, there is no child in the world.
The father was wounded and the cannon was broken.
Tied to a shield so as not to fall,
Clutching a sleeping toy to your chest,
The gray-haired boy was sleeping on the gun carriage. (Click)
We went to meet him from Russia.
Waking up, he waved his hand to the troops ...
You say there are others
That I was there and it's time for me to go home ...
You know this grief by hearsay
And it broke our hearts.
Who has seen this boy?
He won't be able to come home.
I must see with the same eyes
With which I cried there, in the dust,
How will that boy come back with us
And kiss a handful of his land.
For everything that we cherished with you,
Called us to fight the military law.
Now my home is not where it used to be
And where he is taken from the boy.
1941
Song "Ballad of a Soldier"
K. Simonov also wrote the following poem, which will be performed today. It's about love. The fact that we won not only thanks to the courage of our soldiers, but also due to the fact that our great-grandmothers knew how to love and wait for their husbands from the front.(W.7)
The poem "Wait for me" by K. Simonov.
Wait for me and I will come back.
Just wait a lot
Wait for sadness
yellow rain,
Wait for the snow to come
Wait when it's hot
Wait when others are not expected
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from distant places
Letters will not come
Wait until you get bored
To all who are waiting together.
Wait for me and I will come back,
All deaths out of spite.
Who did not wait for me, let him
He will say: - Lucky.
Do not understand those who did not wait for them,
Like in the middle of a fire
Waiting for your
You saved me
How I survived, we will know
Only you and I -
You just knew how to wait
Like no one else.
1941
Let's move our minds back to that distant time. The steppe pitted with shells, torn apart by bombs. Evening darkness covered her. With darkness came silence. Stars shine. In the trenches, soldiers straighten their stiff backs, and quiet conversations begin. And then they sing softly. Perhaps this is the song "In the dugout" by Alexei Surkov. “There was a poem from which this song was born, by chance,” the poet recalled. “It was not going to be a song. It didn't even pretend to be a printed poem. These were sixteen "home" lines from a letter to his wife, Sofya Antonovna. But this poem became a song that entered the people's memory as an integral companion of the Great Patriotic War.(W.8)
Song "Zemlyanka"
But women not only waited for men from the front, not only worked in the rear, many of them fought on the front lines, were pilots, scouts, nurses who carried wounded soldiers from the battlefields.(W.9)
Yulia Drunina, a seventeen-year-old graduate of one of the Moscow schools, like many of her peers, in 1941 voluntarily went to the front as a soldier in a sanitary platoon. She wrote many poems about the war. Here is one of them:
YOU MUST!
turned pale,
Gritting your teeth to a crunch,
From native trench
One
You have to break away
And parapet
Slip under fire
Must. (Click)
You must.
Even though you're unlikely to come back
Though "Don't you dare!"
Repeats kombat.
Even tanks
(They're made of steel!)
Three steps from the trench
They are burning.
You must.
'Cause you can't pretend
In front of,
What you don't hear in the night
How almost hopeless
"Sister!"(Click)
Someone out there
Under fire, screaming...
But how many fighters died in those battles, how many did not return to their mothers, wives, children. From someone there was not even a grave mound left. Their relatives received terrible news - he went missing.(W.10)
I KILLED UNDER RZHEV
I was killed near Rzhev,
In the nameless swamp
In the fifth company, on the left,
During a violent attack
I didn't hear the break
I didn't see that flash
Right into the abyss from the cliff-
And no bottom, no tire.
And all over this world
Until the end of his days
No buttonholes, no straps
From my tunic.
I am where the roots are blind
Looking for food in the darkness;
I - where with a cloud of dust
Rye walks on the hill;
I am where the cock crow
At dawn on the dew;
I - where are your cars
The air is torn on the highway;
Where blade of grass to blade of grass
A river of grass spins, -
Where for the wake
Even mother won't come.
We dedicate this song to all the dead and missing. The song "Angel flew"
But, despite the terrible losses, we survived! We pushed the enemy back from the walls of Moscow! We were moving forward! The Nazis did not know that not only the army would fight against them, even children would fight against them. About this poem
"Tankman's Tale" by Alexander Tvardovsky (W.11)
What's his name, I forgot to ask.
Ten or twelve years old. troublesome,
Of those that are the leaders of children,
Of those in the front-line towns
They greet us like honored guests.
The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying water in buckets for them is not difficult,
They bring soap with a towel to the tank
And unripe plums stick ...
There was a fight outside. The fire of the enemy was terrible,
We broke through to the square ahead.
And he nails - do not look out of the towers -
And the devil will understand where it hits from.
Here, guess what house
He perched - so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
- Comrade Commander, Comrade Commander!
I know where their gun is. I unraveled...
I crawled up, they are over there, in the garden ...
- Yes, where, where? .. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll bring it straight.
Well, the fight doesn't wait. - Get in here, buddy! -
And here we are rolling to the place four of us.
There is a boy - mines, bullets whistle,
And only a shirt with a bubble.
We drove up. - Here. - And with a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the calculation,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.
I wiped off the sweat. Suffocated fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And, I remember, I said: - Thank you, lad! -
And shook his hand like a friend...
It was a difficult fight. Everything now, as if awake,
And I just can't forgive myself
Of the thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what's his name, I forgot to ask him.
Open your eyes!
Get ready to listen!
Pay attention now!
For you about the legendary Katyusha
Our favorite class will sing today!(W.12)
Song "Katyusha"
Victory is getting closer every day! But how hard those last battles were! It seems that not only people are tired, the earth is tired, from explosions, from fire, from blood. Listen to the song"Last Fight" (Dp. 13)
The war ended, but for many years the wounds of our people did not heal, so many children were taken away, so many lives were destroyed. Mothers continued to wait for their sons and after many, many years. (W.14)
Andrey Dementiev
Mother's ballad
Mother has aged for many years,
And there is no news from the son and no.
But she keeps waiting
Because he believes, because the mother.
And what does she hope for?
Many years have passed since the end of the war.
Many years since everyone came back
Except the dead that lie in the ground.
How many of them in that distant village,
Bearless boys did not come.
Once they sent to the village in the spring
Documentary film about the war
Everyone came to the cinema - both old and small,
Who knew the war and who did not know
Before the bitter memory of man
Hatred flowed like a river.
It was hard to remember.
Suddenly, from the screen, the son looked at his mother.
The mother recognized her son at the same moment,
And a mother's cry swept through;
As if her son could hear her.
He rushed out of the trench into battle.
His mother got up to cover him.
Everything was afraid - suddenly he will fall,
But through the years, the son rushed forward.
- Alexei! shouted the countrymen.
- Alexei! - they asked, - run! ..
The frame has changed. The son survived.
He asks the mother to repeat about her son.
And he goes on the attack again.
Alive and well, not wounded, not killed.
- Alexei! Alyoshenka! Son! -
As if her son could hear her ...
At home, everything seemed to her like a movie ...
Everything was waiting, just now out the window
In the midst of the disturbing silence
Her son will knock from the war.
And we, today's generation, should not forget about that war, we should know our history. Read books, poems, sing songs of those years and about that time (Sl.15)
Andrey Dementiev
* * *
Somewhere near Brest
Suddenly came to us in the car
sad song
Military times.
She walked down the aisle
Quiet and sad.
How many people were
She confused everyone.
Picked up women from the shelves
Disturbed dreams,
Remembering all those who did not come
Since that last war.
Like your old trouble,
We sighed after her.
And the words burned in her,
Like a June dawn.
The song resurrected
What was long ago
What is neither old nor small
It is not allowed to forget.
And bowed goodbye
Silent away...
And the hearts on the wagons
Everyone followed the song.
Song about that spring
MBOU "Solonovskaya secondary school named after
Matryonina A.P.” Smolensky district of the Altai Territory
Poetry of the war years
Concert lesson
(Dedicated to the 69th anniversary of the Victory in the Great Patriotic War)
Shadrina Irina Savelievna,
teacher of Russian language and literature
With. Solonovka
2014
Topic of the lesson (extracurricular activities):
Poetry of the war years
Lesson form:concert lesson
Target:
creation of conditions for the formation communicative,
value-ideological, general cultural literary,
reading and speech competence of students
throughknowledge acquisition about personality and creative biography
wartime poet (Yulia Drunina, Alexander Tvardovsky, Konstantin Simonov, Mikhail Isakovsky), his moral ideals,
Whatwill contribute to the development sense of beauty, interest in the work of writers,education of highly moral qualities of a person : feelings of patriotism, active citizenship;
preservation of the people's memory of the participants of the Great Patriotic War,
education of an attentive and benevolent reader.
Equipment:
Computer, multimedia projector, students' drawings for Victory Day, literary booklet.
Epigraph:
… Was and is in Russia
Y. Drunina
Preparation for the lesson (event): 2 weeks before the event, students were asked to choose and memorize poems on a military theme. The teacher appoints rehearsals, where work is carried out on the expressiveness of reading, and also draws up a script based on the selected works.
Lesson script
(, slide number 1)
Teacher. Our lesson-concert is dedicated to the 69th anniversary of the Great Victory.
(Slide #2)
Student.
ON BEHALF OF THE FALLEN
Today on the podium we are poets,
Who are killed in the war
Embracing the earth with a groan somewhere
In your country, in the foreign side.
Fellow soldiers read us
They are whitened with gray hairs.
But in front of the hall, frozen in silence,
We are guys who did not come from the war.
"Jupiters" are blinding, but we are embarrassed -
We are in wet clay from head to toe.
In the trench clay, a helmet and a rifle,
A skinny duffel bag in the cursed clay.
I'm sorry that the flame burst with us,
That you can barely see us in the smoke
And do not consider that before us
It's like you're to blame - nothing.
Ah, military labor is dangerous work,
Not everyone is led by a lucky star.
Someone always comes home from the war
And someone never comes.
You were only scorched by the edge of the flame,
The flame that did not spare us.
But if we changed places,
That this evening, this very hour,
Turning pale, with a throat constricted by convulsions,
Lips that suddenly became dry
We miraculously survived soldiers,
Read your youthful poetry.
( Slide number 3. The song "Holy War" )
Teacher (against the background of music)
Poetry was the most popular genre of the war years.
It was poetry that expressed people's need for truth, without which a sense of responsibility for their country is impossible.
Young poets went to war, many of them did not return. But there are amazing verses.
Already on the third day of the war, a song was created that became a symbol of the unity of the people in the fight against the enemy - "Holy War" to the verses of Vasily Lebedev-Kumach. This song awakened the spirit of patriotism, raised the people to defend the Motherland, called everyone to responsibility for the fate of the country.
Writers felt this responsibility especially sharply. 940 of them went to the front, 417 did not return.
At the front, they were not only war correspondents, but also war workers: artillerymen, infantrymen, tankers, pilots, sailors. They died of hunger in besieged Leningrad, of wounds in military hospitals.
Poetry was necessary for people at the front and in the rear, because it appealed to the soul of every person, conveyed his thoughts, experiences, instilled faith in victory. She was not afraid of the truth, even bitter and cruel.
(Slide number 4. – Olya)
Julia Drunina
I sometimes feel connected
Between those who are alive
And who is taken away by the war.
And although five-year-olds run
in a hurry
Closer and closer this connection
This connection is getting stronger.
I am connected.
Let the roar of battle subside:
Report from battle
My verse remains
From the cauldrons of the environment,
Abysses of defeat
And from the great bridgeheads
Victorious battles.
I am connected.
I wander in the partisan forest,
From the living
I carry a report to the dead:
"No, nothing is forgotten,
No, no one is forgotten
Even the one
Who lies in an unknown grave.
(Slide number 5)
Teacher.
Yulia Drunina was born in Moscow. Her father worked as a history teacher, her mother worked as a librarian at the school, where Yulia also came as a first grader. At school, she felt very comfortable, at the age of 11 she began to write poetry, albeit inept, but with feeling.
Everything was destroyed by the war.
On June 22, 1941, Yulia ran to the military enlistment office: “Take me to the front!” They did not take him into the army immediately, but in the same 1941.
school evening,
gloomy summer,
Throwing books and pencil
A girl got up from this desk
And stepped into the damp dugout.
(Diana S.)
No, this is not merit, but luck
Become a girl soldier in the war.
If my life were different,
How ashamed I would be on Victory Day!
We girls were not greeted with delight:
We were driven home by a hoarse military commissar.
So it was in forty-one. And the medals
And other regalia later...
I look back, into the smoky distances:
No, not merit in that ominous year,
And schoolgirls considered the highest honor
The opportunity to die for your people.
(Slide number 6)
Teacher.
At the age of seventeen, she enrolled in a voluntary sanitary squad, worked as a nurse in a hospital. Together with her family, she was evacuated to Zavodoukovsk, from there she went to the front. Participated in the construction of defensive structures near Mozhaisk, was a nurse in an infantry regiment.
YOU MUST!( Zhanna)
turned pale,
Gritting your teeth to a crunch,
From native trench
One
You have to break away
And parapet
Slip under fire
Must.
You must.
Even though you're unlikely to come back
Though "Don't you dare!"
Repeats kombat.
Even tanks
(They're made of steel!)
Three steps from the trench
They are burning.
You must.
'Cause you can't pretend
In front of,
What you don't hear in the night
How almost hopeless
"Sister!"
Someone out there
Under fire, screaming...
(Slide number 7)
Teacher.
I left my childhood in a dirty car,
In the infantry echelon, in the sanitary platoon.
Distant breaks listened and did not listen
Accustomed to everything forty-first year.
I came from school to the dugouts damp,
From the Beautiful Lady to "mother" and "rewind",
Because the name is closer than "Russia"
Couldn't find.
BANDAGES(Alina)
The eyes of a fighter are filled with tears,
He lies, springy and white,
And I need adherent bandages
To rip him off with one bold move.
In one motion - so they taught us.
With one movement - only this is a pity ...
But meeting with the look of terrible eyes,
I didn't decide to move.
I generously poured peroxide on the bandage,
Trying to soak it without pain.
And the paramedic became angry
And she repeated: "Woe to me with you!
So to stand on ceremony with everyone is a disaster.
Yes, and you only add flour to him.
But the wounded always marked
Fall into my slow hands.
No need to tear the adherent bandages,
When they can be removed almost without pain.
I got it, you'll get it too...
What a pity that the science of kindness
You can't learn from books in school!
(Slide number 8)
V. Gusev
SISTER(Diana K.)
Friends, you talked about heroes,
I remember the bridge
battle over the river
I want to tell you about it today.
How to describe it?
The usual one.
I remember only blue eyes.
Cheerful, calm, simple,
Like the wind on a hot day
she came to us.
And here she is in battle
and the bullets rush loudly,
And from the gaps the air rattles.
She crawls through the fight
through the black howl of lead.
Fire and death sweep over her,
Fear for her breaks into the hearts,
In the hearts of fighters who are accustomed to fight bravely.
She walks through the death storm
And the wounded man whispers:
- My sister, sister
Save yourself. I'll crawl. -
But the girl is not afraid of shells;
With a confident and courageous hand
Support, endure the fighter - and glad
And rest a little bit - and again into battle.
Where in the little one, tell me, does this strength come from?
Where is the courage in it, answer me, friends?
What mother raised such a daughter?
She was raised by my Motherland!
Now we're talking about heroes
Looking death and lead in the eye.
I remember the bridge
battle over the river
Fighters bending over a wounded sister.
How can I tell about it!
On that bridge, a piece of shrapnel struck her.
She shuddered a little and lay down quietly.
The fighters approached her, she said: - Soon ...
She smiled at us and died.
If they looked at her, they would say: a girl!
Is this for the front? Yes you! Run away.
And here comes the battle
and bullets rush loudly.
In the earth, in her native land, now she lies.
And we didn't get to know her name.
Just remember the look
shining on us in the dark.
Tired, in blood, in a torn overcoat,
She lies in the Ukrainian land.
Grief crushes my chest,
my sadness is immeasurable,
But pride for her burns in my soul.
Yes, those people are great
and that country is immortal,
Which gives birth to such daughters!
So let the song fly around the world
Flies to all seas
thunders in any region,
Song about my sister
about an unknown girl
Who gave her life for her country.
(Slide number 9)
Teacher.
After being wounded, after graduating from the School of Junior Aviation Specialists, Yulia goes to the Western Front.
At the front, she was wounded again. After recovery, she returned to the self-propelled artillery regiment, received the title of "foreman of the medical service", fought in the Belarusian Polissya, in the Baltic states.
She was shell-shocked and on November 21, 1944 she was declared unfit for military service.
The experience of the war formed the basis of her work.
In 1948, the first book of poems "In a soldier's overcoat" was published.
(Galya)
I brought home from the fronts of Russia
Cheerful contempt for rags -
Like a mink coat I wore
His burnt overcoat.
Let the patches bulge on the elbows,
Let the boots get worn out - it doesn't matter!
So smart and so rich
I have never been there since...
(Slide number 10)
Teacher.
There were tears in the first attack
I also had to cry after
And then I forgot how to cry -
Apparently, the stocks of tears have run out ...
A. Peredreev
"Memories of a Big Brother"(Dasha Rekhtina)
Is it a dream about an older brother,
Or the memory of childhood:
Hands wide embrace
Harness. Gun.
I remember everything by color, by smell,
I remember, most importantly, by ear:
"The order was given to him to the west..." -
The song was heard all around.
With this song for a week
He arrived under his father's blood...
With this song creaked the door,
I hear the creak of his steps.
The creak of the boots of a living brother,
Departing from us -
An order was given to him to the west,
Order given,
Order,
Order.
... He managed from under Lvov,
The first to receive the storm
Write, send two words:
“I was in battle, we are standing in the forest ...”
I don't know what happened to him
In his second fight,
Maybe there is no after
Even the forests in that region...
He won't turn back
Too many long years
An order was given to him to the west ...
Harness... Pistol...
(Slide number 11)
( Maksim)
Behind the loss - loss,
My peers go out.
Hits our square
Even though the battles are long gone.
What to do? -
Crawling into the ground
Protect the mortal body?
No, I won't accept that.
It's not about that at all.
Who mastered the forty-first,
Will fight to the end.
Ah, charred nerves,
Burnt hearts!
(Slide number 12)
Teacher.
I've only seen melee once,
Once upon a time. And a thousand - in a dream.
Who says that war is not scary,
He knows nothing about the war.
(Slide number 13)
I still don't quite understand
How am I, and thin, and small,
Through the fires to the victorious May
Came in kirzachs of one hundred pounds.
And where did so much strength come from
Even in the weakest of us?
What to guess! - Was and is in Russia
Eternal strength eternal supply.
(, slideshow to verses)
Dmitry Kedrin
KILLED BOY(Vika, slides 1-6)
Over a country road
Planes were flying...
The little boy lies by the haystack,
Like a yellow-mouthed chick.
The baby did not have time on the wings
See spider crosses.
They gave a turn - and soared
Enemy pilots behind the clouds...
All the same from our revenge
The winged bandit will not leave!
He will die even if
In the slot will be hammered from retribution,
At noon, in hot weather
He wants to drink water
But there is no water in the source -
The enemy pilot will see the blood.
Hearing how hot it is in the oven
The winter wind howls
He thinks it's crying
They shot children.
And when, coming aside,
Death will sit on his bed, -
For a murdered child
This death will be similar!
1942
Nikolai Udarov
Blockade days toys(Stas, slides 7-14)
January 27 - 70th anniversary of the complete lifting of the blockade of Leningrad (1944)
I freeze at this window.
Blockade ice melted in it.
We are truly invincible.
Here are the toys of blockade days!
Airplanes made of cardboard
And a big rag bear.
Funny kitten on plywood
And the drawing: "FASSITS - DEATH!"
The drawings indicated
Silhouettes of relatives' houses,
Where every potbelly stove at night
Victory beat a living spring.
And over the city - bombers,
But they are beaten from above by "hawks".
Frozen in the blockade of tears.
There were frosts on us shelves.
But in almost any apartment
(well, at least in any house!)
Someone lived just in the children's world,
Bringing this world with difficulty.
Someone Christmas toys
He made colored paper.
So, destroying the blockade ring,
The toys went into mortal combat!
(Slide number 15)
Teacher.
Not the one from fairy tales, not the one from the cradle,
Not the one that was passed by textbooks,
And the one that burned in the eyes of the inflamed,
And the one that sobbed - I remembered the Motherland.
And I see her, on the eve of Victory,
Not stone, bronze, crowned with glory,
And the eyes of the one who wept, going through troubles,
All demolished, all endured by a Russian woman.
Konstantin Simonov was born in Petrograd. He never saw his father: he went missing at the front in the First World War. The boy was raised by his stepfather, the commander of the Red Army.
Konstantin's childhood passed in military camps and commander's dormitories. The family was not rich, so the boy had to go to the factory school (FZU) after finishing seven classes and work as a turner in Moscow, where the family moved in 1931.
(Slide number 16)
In 1938, Konstantin Simonov graduated from the Literary Institute. His first poems were published in magazines.
During the war years, he worked as a war correspondent for the Battle Banner newspaper.
(Slide number 17)
In 1942 he was awarded the rank of senior battalion commissar, in 1943 - the rank of lieutenant colonel, and after the war - colonel. Most of his military correspondence was published in the Red Star. During the war years, he wrote the plays "Russian People", "Wait for Me", "So It Will Be", the story "Days and Nights", two books of poems: "With You and Without You" and "War".
(Slide number 18)
Konstantin Simonov
WAIT FOR ME(Glory)
Wait for me and I will come back.
Just wait a lot
Wait for sadness
yellow rain,
Wait for the snow to come
Wait when it's hot
Wait when others are not expected
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from distant places
Letters will not come
Wait until you get bored
To all who are waiting together.
Wait for me and I will come back,
don't wish well
To everyone who knows by heart
It's time to forget.
Let the son and mother believe
That there is no me
Let friends get tired of waiting
They sit by the fire
Drink bitter wine
For the soul...
Wait. And along with them
Don't rush to drink.
Wait for me and I will come back,
All deaths out of spite.
Who did not wait for me, let him
He will say: - Lucky.
Do not understand those who did not wait for them,
Like in the middle of a fire
Waiting for your
You saved me
How I survived, we will know
Only you and I -
You just knew how to wait
Like no one else.
(Slide number 19)
Teacher.
As a war correspondent, he visited all fronts, passed through the lands of Romania, Bulgaria, Yugoslavia, Poland and Germany, and witnessed the last battles for Berlin. After the war, collections of his essays, Notes of a War Correspondent, appeared.–
(Slide number 20)
GLORY(Artyom)
In five minutes already melted snow
The overcoat was all powdered.
He lies on the ground, tired
Raise your hand with a movement.
He is dead. Nobody knows him.
But we're still halfway there
And the glory of the dead inspires
Those who decided to go forward.
We have severe freedom:
Dooming mother to tears,
The immortality of his people
Buy with your death.
1942
( Slide #1 )
Teacher.
Alexander Tvardovsky - Writer, poet, editor-in-chief of the magazine "New World".
Born in the Smolensk province in the family of a village blacksmith. During the war years, his native farm was burned by the Germans ...
(Slide number 2 )
In 1939 drafted into the Red Army. Participated in the liberation of Western Belarus.
During the war with Finland he was a correspondent for a military newspaper.
In 1941-1942 he worked in the editorial office of the newspaper of the South-Western Front "Red Army".
(Slide number 3 )
From the first days of the Great Patriotic War, Tvardovsky was among the fighters, as a war correspondent he traveled difficult roads from west to east and back. He told about this in the poem "Vasily Terkin".
But the poet also has front-line lyrics - a kind of diary about the harsh time and its heroes.
The poem "Tankman's Tale" refers to this cycle.
(Slide number 4 )
Tanker's Tale(Yura)
What's his name, I forgot to ask.
Ten or twelve years old. troublesome,
Of those that are the leaders of children,
Of those in the front-line towns
They greet us like honored guests.
The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying water in buckets for them is not difficult,
They bring soap with a towel to the tank
And unripe plums pop...
There was a fight outside. The fire of the enemy was terrible,
We broke through to the square ahead.
And he nails - do not look out of the towers -
And the devil will understand where it hits from.
Here, guess what house
He perched - so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
Comrade Commander, Comrade Commander!
I know where their gun is. I unraveled...
I crawled up, they're over there in the garden...
But where, where? .. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll bring it straight.
Well, the fight doesn't wait. - Get in here, buddy! -
And here we are rolling to the place four of us.
There is a boy - mines, bullets whistle,
And only a shirt with a bubble.
We drove up. - Here. - And with a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the calculation,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.
I wiped off the sweat. Suffocated fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And, I remember, I said: - Thank you, lad! -
And shook his hand like a friend...
It was a difficult fight. Everything now, as if awake,
And I just can't forgive myself
Of the thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what's his name, I forgot to ask him.
(Slides #5-6 )
Teacher.
…It was another of the many battles that not only the tanker had to go through, but also many thousands of the same selfless fighters who forged the victory of the motherland. That's why he "forgot" to ask the name of the "boy", because he does not dream of his own glory, honestly fulfilling the duty of a soldier, he thinks only about protecting the Motherland.
(Slide number 7 )
Mikhail Isakovsky
Migratory birds are flying(
Dasha
)
... I have seen a lot of countries,
Walking with a rifle in hand.
And there was no more sadness
Than to live away from you.
I changed my mind a lot
With friends in a distant land.
And there was no more debt
How to do your will.
Let me drown in swamps
Let me freeze on ice
But if you tell me again
I will go through it all again.
Your desires and hopes
I connected forever with you -
With your harsh and clear
With your enviable fate.
Migratory birds are flying
Search for the bygone summer.
They fly to hot countries
And I don't want to fly away
And I stay with you
My native side!
I don't need someone else's sun
Foreign land is not needed.
(Slide number 8)
Teacher.
The local priest taught him to read and write. Later, Isakovsky studied for 2 years at the gymnasium. The first poem - "A Soldier's Request" - was published back in 1914 in the all-Russian newspaper "Nov".
In 1921-1931 he worked in the Smolensk newspapers. In 1931 he moved to Moscow.
(Slide number 9 )
– quoting the first poem of a 14-year-old poet)
In the mid-30s, Isakovsky becomes famous.
(Slide number 10)
Back in the thirties, his amazing songs sounded everywhere, in which our time felt so comfortable ...
The most famous, "Katyusha", fought at the front, our soldiers called it the most formidable weapon - jet guards mortars.
And finally, its peak, where full will is already given to pain, in its tragedy, rarely reached even by the strongest poets, is.
(listening to the song)
(Slide number 11)
The poem, written shortly after the war, was subjected to official criticism, since, according to the authorities, the victorious Russian soldier has no right to cry, this is a sign of weakness. The song was not played on the radio for a long time.
Only in July 1960, Mark Bernes violated this unspoken ban by performing a song to the words of Isakovsky.
(Slide number 12)
Many of Isakovsky's poems have been set to music. The most famous are “In the forest near the front”, “Migratory birds are flying”, “Lonely accordion”.
One of the best poems, Isakovsky dedicated to his wife Lydia.
In the film "Kuban Cossacks" to the music of I. Dunayevsky, his songs "As you were, so you remain" and "Oh, viburnum blooms" sounded.
Songs to the words of Isakovsky appear in the repertoire of the choir. Pyatnitsky. The most famous of them: "Along the village", "Seeing", "And who knows". It was these songs that made the choir famous.
(Slide number 13)
Isakovsky's poems and songs during the Great Patriotic War conveyed people's feeling of hatred for the enemy, awakened courage, multiplied love for the Motherland. Mikhail Isakovsky, a serious eye disease, did not allow him to put on a soldier's overcoat, but even in the rear, misfortunes common to all Soviet people fell upon him.
Under the heel of the fascist invaders was his small homeland. In Glotovka, the father's house was burned down by the enemies.
(Slide number 14)
The poet lived throughout the war in the small town of Chistopol, where the post office and radio did not work for a long time, but not for a minute did he experience a spiritual separation from the common fate. It was hard, bitterly experienced the impossibility of fighting at the front with arms in hand.
Isakovsky's lyrics of those terrible years are a real poetic chronicle of the war. The poet penetratingly draws the harsh everyday life of the front and rear, the heroic deeds and feelings of soldiers and partisans, workers and collective farmers, reveals the nationwide character of the struggle against fascism.
(Slides #15-16)
"Russian woman"(Nastya)
... Can you tell me about it
What years did you live in!
What an immeasurable heaviness
On women's shoulders lay down! ..
That morning I said goodbye to you
Your husband, or brother, or son,
And you with your destiny
Left alone.
One on one with tears
With uncompressed bread in the field
You met this war.
And all - without end and without counting -
Sorrows, labors and worries
Came to you for one.
One to you - willy-nilly -
And it is necessary to be in time everywhere;
You are alone at home and in the field,
You alone cry and sing.
And the clouds are hanging lower
And the thunders rumble closer
More and more bad news.
And you are in front of the whole country,
And you before the whole war
Said what you are.
You walked, hiding your grief,
The harsh way of labor.
The whole front, from sea to sea,
You fed with your bread.
In cold winters, in a blizzard,
At that one at a distant line
The soldiers warmed their greatcoats,
What you sewed with care.
Rushed in the roar, in the smoke
Soviet soldiers in battle
And the enemy strongholds collapsed
From the bombs you planted.
You did everything without fear.
And, as the saying goes,
You were both spinning and weaving,
She knew how - with a needle and a saw.
Chopped, drove, dug -
Do you read everything?
And in letters to the front she assured
It sounds like you're living a great life.
Soldiers read your letters
And there, at the forefront,
They understood well
Your holy untruth.
And a warrior going to battle
And ready to meet her
Like an oath, whispered like a prayer,
Your distant name...
(Slide number 17)
The song "Spark" sounds.
Teacher (against the background of music).
The song "Spark" was performed on all fronts for different motives. By the end of the war, only one motif of an unknown author remained, which has survived to this day. When this song is performed, they announce: "The words of Mikhail Isakovsky, folk music."
Isakovsky's native village was completely destroyed during the war. He sent part of the money from the Stalin Prize received in 1943 to the construction of a club in his native places.
The girls sing the song "Spark".
(Slides #18-22)
Sounds march Slide show "Salute".
(Slide number 23)
Student.
Fireworks on Victory Day on May 9th -
A magical rainbow of bright lights!
Peace and happiness have a straight road,
Let's just go for it!
We wish you joy and renewal,
The radiance of the sun, the blossoms of spring!
Accept gratitude and congratulations
On the day of the holiday of our great country!
Municipal educational institution
MOU "Ulkan secondary school No. 2"
Collection of poems about the war
Content:
Poems of poets of Siberia ………………………………4str
Poems about the war set to music…….....5str
Poems by unknown authors…………………….6str
Poems of famous poets ………………………...7str
About war
Can't find a man on earth
Who has not heard about this war.
It was a terrible time
These years have gone up in flames.
Those bloody, forties
We will always remember and honor
How the young fighters fought
How did they want to protect
Your homeland, faith and truth
From the capture of a fascist country.
This is an honor for a simple soldier:
"To die, but to save Russia!"
And they, who knew no fear,
Everyone who could fight went to the front,
They understood: “So it is necessary,
we need to rise up for Russia!”.
Those efforts were not in vain
Victory lit up the country,
Hoisted our flag on the Reichstag,
We will never forget that spring.
Years have flown by, seven dozen have passed,
But do you remember those years of trouble,
Bow to the veterans, say thank you
For a free life without war.
Pokusina Lyubov, 8a grade
soldier's widow
She does not sleep, the widow of a soldier
Does not sleep at night - waiting for her husband,
He died in the war,
She hopes she will.
Here the gate quietly creaked
And my heart froze in my chest
Perhaps his death was a mistake?
And he believes that he must come.
The boy is young, beardless,
The fascists left to boldly beat,
Blue-eyed, glorious, fair-haired,
Always asked to keep love.
The widow does not sleep even on a dark night
Goodbye hours remembers
A widow's love is huge
She does not forget him.
Don't forget at work
When in a row, for 10 days
Potatoes were harvested together
Over the years, only love is stronger.
Well, at least, what news,
Or, at worst, a dream,
Why is this my destiny?
He was quite young, after all!
We didn't even have time for the kids
With my beloved give birth,
I sit and wait, as if in a cage,
My destiny is to love and wait.
Forgive me, my love, that you died
Whispering before death: "You live!"
Why is this fate for me
Burn at night with love?
And wait, and believe, and longing
Fill all your nights
Where in my thoughts only you and I
The fate of the widow is to wait for the soldier.
Wait for a soldier and know not to believe
Of course it won't come
So many years since the Victory
The widow of a soldier - waiting for her husband
*****
Veterans do not grow old in soul,
Until now, they keep in their hearts,
Pain and bloody wounds in the heart
Those soldiers who did not come from the war.
That Russia was defended by itself,
Granite will keep their names,
Know, we remember you by name,
That none of you are forgotten here.
And today on this monument
We, as before, are going,
And bowed their heads low,
We pay tribute to you.
Every year you are less and less
We keep the memory of you in our hearts,
For those who died in Russia and Poland
We remember and adore you.
For your great and glorious feat,
We will light the eternal fire again
We honor your memory today
Again we go to this monument
Potapova Albina, social pedagogue
Poems of poets of Siberia
*****
Deciding fate with a swift attack,
the sergeant went into a frenzy of fire...
And suffocated, blackening the earth,
with his saliva a fascist dog.
Years will pass, a line in the name of good
open - no time to blame,
and dull the dull pain in the heart,
to strengthen courage and courage in a soldier.
A formidable song called for a feat,
in battle spreading mighty wings,
flew like a bird into the sun!
And soon he, knowing the mortal risk,
came home to his native Novosibirsk,
took off his helmet, froze, a fair-faced warrior. Here the hemorrhage is a tiny flower
mastered the wind polonaise.
It's light in the corners: thinned out.
But the world can be changed
in an unequal but desperate formation.
Your spirit is beautiful with freedom:
where life is in full swing, where the sky is prasin,
Boris Bogatkov
*****
Hardened Siberian harsh climate
not only us - and tanks, stones, cereal.
Sometimes the forest is so washed by the rains,
that the wounds are easier, the step is more fun.
Let the sunset need us
let behind the fire of war and evil,
we got a lot of bitter smoke,
and youth as ashes entered the essays.
Is it in a dream? - the guns hit hard,
like piles of tomorrow,
and sparrows explode over the garden,
and the river will stir up to the bottom ...
Maybe we'll get used to the silence
but - "memory will not doze off!" - not to war.
Leonid Reshetnikov
*****
When the green lights are on
In the snows of native Vasyugan,
When it sparkles blue
Frost tightly bound days.
When eyes stick together from books,
Read by the dawning early,
when on the snowy battlefield
one walks death, and do not fall asleep!
He, a warrior, is there, in Trigorskoye,
Near the Mountains, against the brown plague,
saves the glory of the Russian firmament!
He is there - bowed down, where the incorruptible dust, -
forgetting for a moment yourself, war and fear,
your private, Russia, is Smerdov.
Alexander Smerdov
*****
A scorched platoon dug into the ground.
And silence. Anticipation of an attack.
And the clouds pressed down like tracks,
lying soldiers - soon forward?
"Hearts on the rise". Let the enemy rush
signs shot by death during the day!
Now the knives will flash in the terrible darkness!
And dryness in the throat ... And the smoke tears it ...
The rocket exploded at night, and behind it -
hiding in the raging fire
unstoppable wave of fighters running…
A tornado will rise and bleed out ...
The living will look back: the dawn is coming,
and the good age stands indestructible.
Georgy Suvorov
War poems set to music
In the dugout
The fire is beating in the cramped stove,
Resin on logs, like a tear,
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.
The bushes whispered about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How longing is my living voice.
You are far away now.
Between us snow and snow.
It's not easy for me to reach you
And there are four steps to death.
Sing, harmonica, blizzard out of spite,
Call the entangled happiness.
I'm warm in a cold dugout
From your unquenchable love.
Alexey Surkov
He didn't come back and fight
Why is everything wrong? Everything seems to be the same as always:
The same sky is blue again
The same forest, the same air and the same water,
Only he did not return from the battle.
Now I don't understand which one of us was right
In our disputes without sleep and rest.
I just missed him now
When he didn't come back from the fight.
He was silent at random and sang out of time,
He always talked about something else
He did not let me sleep, he got up with the sunrise,
And yesterday he did not return from the battle.
What is empty now is not a conversation about that.
Suddenly I noticed - there were two of us.
For me it was like the wind blew out the fire,
When he didn't come back from the fight.
Today, spring has escaped, as if from captivity.
By mistake, I called out to him: "Friend, stop smoking." And in response - silence: yesterday he did not return from the battle.
Our dead will not leave us in trouble,
Our fallen as sentries.
The sky is reflected in the forest, as in water,
and the trees are blue.
We had enough space in the dugout,
We and time flowed - for both.
All are now alone. It just seems to me:
I didn't come back from the fight.
Vladimir Vysotsky
Goodbye boys
Oh, war, what have you done, vile:
Our yards have become quiet,
Our boys raised their heads -
They have matured so far
On the threshold barely loomed
And they left, after the soldier - the soldier ...
Goodbye boys!
Boys
Try to go back.
No, don't hide, be tall
Spare neither bullets nor grenades
And do not spare yourself, and yet
Try to go back.
Oh, war, what have you done, vile one:
Instead of weddings - separation and smoke,
Our girls dresses are white
They gave away to their sisters.
Boots - well, where can you get away from them?
Yes, green wings of shoulder straps ...
You spit on the gossips, girls.
We'll settle accounts with them later.
Let them talk that you have nothing to believe in,
What are you going to war at random ...
Goodbye girls! Girls,
Try to go back.
Poems by unknown authors
*****
In a harsh year, we ourselves became stricter,
All lost and found again.
Remembering the mandate of the dear Motherland.
And we promised them: we will defend!
Yes, we will defend our native birches,
No matter how the soul wants to rest,
Severe, masculine our business
We will bring - and with honor - to the end!
*****
Black clouds roll in
Lightning in the sky scurry.
In a cloud of flying dust
The trumpets sound the alarm.
Fight a gang of fascists
The Motherland calls the brave.
A bold bullet is afraid
Does not take a bold bayonet.
The planes took off,
The tank formation moved.
With a song infantry companies
We went out to fight for our country.
Song - a winged bird -
Calls the brave to march.
A bold bullet is afraid
Does not take a bold bayonet.
We will cover with immortal glory
In battles, their names.
Only brave heroes
The joy of victory is given.
The brave strives for victory,
Bold road ahead.
A bold bullet is afraid
Does not take a bold bayonet.
*****
Veteran passed away
But from insults, not from wounds,
Where is the country in which he lived,
What did he protect, what did he love?
He lived hard during the life of that
He now: "Who are you?",
"Medals can be bought after all!",
How could he forgive this?
The country goes the other way
He doesn't need a handout
Lived without money to gray hair,
And he did without cars.
And old wounds hurt
He remembers the faces of those guys
Who went to war
Not seeing the first spring.
And then the old people go
Sometimes from pain and longing,
Although there are grandchildren and family,
They are your story!
*****
The price of victory. Do you know what the price of victory is?!
How many lives have been taken by the war?
Our grandparents fought for us.
And what's the reward? Pain and orders...
The price of victory is souls on crucifixes,
And the faces of wives, washed in tears.
Lost fathers and brothers.
All who returned in zinc coffins...
The price of victory is proud Russia.
The price of victory is the invalids of the Second World War.
In concentration camps brutal violence.
Now the veterans instead of dreams.
Do you know what the price of victory is?!
And how many souls did the war claim?!
The war that brought everyone only troubles,
For many, everything that was taken away.
The price of victory is orders and wounds.
Missing lives of relatives.
And how do we pay our veterans?!
Once a year we only remember them...
Each of them is a cripple of the first group -
In the burns of the soul, in the scars of all dreams.
When they carried corpses on their backs,
They were bombarded from above.
And all that they have in this world -
Medals and a mean handful of coins.
Now, I swear, and God is my witness,
They don't have money for bread.
Those veterans, those gray-haired grandfathers,
You take care of them with your heart and soul.
Now you know that price of victory -
This is our world, our dream and our rest.
*****
Like a dark forest hushed by the rain
And, oddly enough, it seems younger
All lost and found again.
Among gray-eyed, strong-shouldered, dexterous,
With a soul like the Volga in the flood hour,
We made friends with the voice of the rifle
Remembering the mandate of the dear Motherland.
The girls did not accompany us with a song,
And with a long look, dry from melancholy,
Our wives pressed us tightly to their hearts,
And we promised them: we will defend!
Yes, we will defend our native birches,
Gardens and songs of the grandfather's country,
So that this snow, which has absorbed blood and tears,
Burned down in the rays of an unprecedented spring.
No matter how the soul wants to rest,
No matter how thirsty hearts are,
Severe, masculine our business
We will bring - and with honor - to the end!
Poems of famous poets
MOTHERLAND
Touching the three great oceans,
She lies, spreading the cities,
Covered with a network of meridians,
Invincible, wide, proud.
But at the hour when the last grenade
Already in your hand
And in a short moment it is necessary to remember at once
All that we have left in the distance,
You remember not a big country,
What did you travel and find out
Do you remember your homeland - such,
How did you see her as a child?
A piece of land, crouched against three birches,
A long road behind the woods
A river with a creaky ferry,
Sandy shore with low willows.
This is where we were lucky to be born
Where for life, until death, we found
That handful of earth that is good,
To see in it signs of the whole earth.
Yes, you can survive in the heat, in a thunderstorm, in frost,
Yes, you can be hungry and cold
Go to death ... But these three birches
You can't give it to anyone while you're alive.
The major brought the boy on a gun carriage
The major brought the boy on a carriage.
Mother died. The son did not say goodbye to her.
For ten years in this and that world
These ten days will be credited to him.
He was taken from the fortress, from Brest.
The carriage was scratched by bullets.
It seemed to the father that the place was safer
From now on, there is no child in the world.
The father was wounded and the cannon was broken.
Tied to a shield so as not to fall,
Clutching a sleeping toy to your chest,
The gray-haired boy was sleeping on the gun carriage.
We went to meet him from Russia.
Waking up, he waved his hand to the troops ...
You say there are others
That I was there and it's time for me to go home ...
You know this grief by hearsay
And it broke our hearts.
Who has seen this boy?
He won't be able to come home.
I must see with the same eyes
With which I cried there, in the dust,
How will that boy come back with us
And kiss a handful of his land.
For everything that we cherished with you,
Called us to fight the military law.
Now my home is not where it used to be
And where he is taken from the boy.
Wait for me and I will come back
Wait for me and I will come back,
Just wait a lot.
Wait for sadness
Yellow rain.
Wait, wait when it snows
Wait when it's hot.
Wait when others are not expected
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from distant places
Letters will not come
Wait until you get bored
With those who wait together.
Wait for me and I will come back,
I'm out of spite for everyone now
Who did not wait for me, let him
Say "Lucky!"
Do not understand those who did not wait,
Like a rush of fire
With your anticipation, you saved me!
How I survived, we will know
Only we are with you.
You just knew how to wait
Like no one else!
Konstantin Simonov
Zinka
We lay down by the broken spruce,
Waiting for the light to start.
Warmer under the overcoat
On cold, damp ground.
You know, Julia, I'm against sadness,
But today it doesn't count.
Somewhere in the apple outback
Mom, my mom lives.
Do you have friends, love?
I only have one.
Spring is brewing outside.
It seems old: every bush
Waiting for a restless daughter.
You know, Julia, I'm against sadness,
But today it doesn't count...
We barely warmed up
Suddenly an unexpected order: "Forward!"
Again next to me in a damp overcoat
The light-haired soldier is coming.
Every day it got worse
They marched without rallies and banners.
Surrounded by Orsha
Our battered battalion.
Zinka led us on the attack,
We made our way through the black rye,
Through funnels and gullies,
Through the frontiers of death.
We did not expect posthumous glory,
We wanted to live with glory.
Why in bloody bandages
The light-haired soldier lies?
Her body with her overcoat
I hid, clenching my teeth,
Belarusian winds sang
About Ryazan deaf gardens.
You know, Zinka, I'm against sadness,
But today it doesn't count.
Somewhere in the apple outback
Mom, your mom lives.
I have friends, my love
She had you alone.
It smells of kneading and smoke in the hut,
Spring is brewing outside.
And an old woman in a flowery dress
I lit a candle at the icon.
I don't know how to write to her
So that she does not wait for you ...
YOU MUST!
turned pale,
Gritting your teeth to a crunch,
From native trench
One
You have to break away
And parapet
Slip under fire
Must.
You must.
Even though you're unlikely to come back
Though "Don't you dare!"
Repeats kombat.
Even tanks
(They're made of steel!)
Three steps from the trench
They are burning.
You must.
'Cause you can't pretend
In front of,
What you don't hear in the night
How almost hopeless
"Sister!"
Someone out there
Under fire, screaming...
Julia Drunina
«
Let the people keep the memory
The stories of those people who were in that War,
And if from poetry suddenly "heart aches"
And the memory of the past will return at that time -
Then do not be in the fire of your native country!
Natalya Marchenko
Literary evening "These years cannot be forgotten"
Presenter 1. Dear guests, guys! We are glad to welcome you to poetry evening"These the years can't be forgotten!» dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory of our people in the Great Patriotic War over Nazi Germany. Military events of 70 years ago live in history, music, poetry. Today, poetic lines will be heard about the Great Patriotic War, which our grandfathers and great-grandfathers, fathers and mothers survived, the heroic deed of our people, about the great Victory.
Presenter 2. They died down a long time ago, they made noise with gun salvos, peals war years. But the nationwide feat remained forever in history. We remember all those who did not return. Their lives and deeds continue. He calls for new labor feats in the name of strengthening the power of our Motherland, in the name of preserving and strengthening peace throughout the world!
(Slide 1)
We celebrate many holidays
We all dance, play, sing,
And we meet the beauty of autumn,
And we are waiting for an elegant Christmas tree.
But there is one holiday - the most important
And spring brings it to us,
Victory Day - solemn, glorious
The whole country celebrates it.
Presenter 1. We were born and raised in peacetime. We have never heard sirens announcing a military alarm, we have never seen houses destroyed by fascist bombs, we do not know what an unheated dwelling and a meager military package are. For us, war is history. We dedicate our today's meeting to the glorious victory of our people in the Great Patriotic War.
(Slide 2)
Lead 2.
The war has passed, the suffering has passed,
But pain calls to people:
Come on people never
Let's not forget about it.
Lead 1.
May her memory be true
Keep about this flour
And the children of today's children,
And our grandchildren grandchildren.
Lead 2. Let it always be that time
Brings us to mind
And the first snow, and rye in bloom,
When he walks with the wind.
Lead 1.
Let everything that life is full of
In everything that is dear to the heart,
We will be given a reminder
About what was in the world.
Lead 2.
Then to forget it
Generations did not dare.
Then, in order for us to be happier,
And happiness is not in oblivion!
Presenter 1. Today will be a day of remembrance
And in the heart it is crowded from high words.
Today will be a day of remembrance
About the feat and valor of the fathers. (A. Tvardovsky)
Presenter 2. Let's remember how the Second World War began ... And it began unexpectedly, suddenly, in the early summer morning. On June 22, 1941, without declaring war, the Nazis attacked our Motherland. Enemies bombed our cities and villages from aircraft, fired from tanks, cannons and machine guns. Enemy soldiers captured our cities. Our entire vast country has risen to battle with a cruel and merciless enemy.
(Slide 3) Musical accompaniment "Holy war"
The adult is the parent.
The longest day of the year
With its cloudless weather
He gave us a common misfortune -
For everyone. For all four years.
She made such a mark
And laid so many on the ground,
That twenty years and thirty years
The living can't believe they're alive.
And to the dead, straightening the ticket,
Everyone is going to someone close.
And time adds to the lists
Someone else, someone else is missing.
And puts, puts an obelisk. (K. Simonov)
The adult is the parent.
June. Russia. Sunday.
Dawn in the arms of silence.
A fragile moment remains
Until the first shots of the war.
In a second the world will explode
Death will lead the parade alle
And the sun will go out forever
For millions on earth.
A mad flurry of fire and steel
It won't turn back on its own.
Two "supergod": Hitler - Stalin,
And between them a terrible hell.
June. Russia. Sunday.
country on the brink: to be not to be...
And this terrible moment
We never forget(D. Popov)
Presenter 1. Not only men, but also women fought in the war. They were nurses, doctors, nurses, scouts, signalmen. Many soldiers were taken out of the battlefield, saved from death by gentle, kind and such strong female hands. What courage and bravery led them into a desperate battle with death!
(Slide 4)
Bullets rumble, bullets whistle
Wounded by a shell fragment of a soldier.
Sister whispers: "Let's hold,
I will bandage your wound,
All forgot: weakness and fear,
Carried him out of the fight in my arms.
How much love and warmth was in her,
Many sister saved from death. (Yu. Drunina)
Presenter 2. During the war, poets and composers composed many good soulful songs and poems that helped maintain the morale of the soldiers. Artists came to the front and performed in front of the soldiers in between battles. These were poems and songs about the Motherland, about mothers, about a beloved home. (Slide 5)
Sounds like a medley of songs: "Katyusha" (M. Blanter, M. Isakovsky); "In the dugout" (M. Listov, A. Surkov); "On a sunny meadow" (V. Solovyov-Sedoy, A. Fatyanov); "Time to hit the road" (V. Solovyov-Sedoy, S. Fogelson); "Vasya-Vasilek" (A. Novikov, S. Alymov) and etc.
Presenter 1. Brave, courageous, fearless fighters - soldiers of different nationalities fought for our great Motherland! How many heroic deeds did they perform in hard years of this war!
Song performed by teachers "Russian guy"
music - M. K. Breitburg, lyrics - S. Sashin
The adult is the parent.
We know what is now on the scales,
And what is happening now.
The hour of courage has struck on our clocks,
And courage will not leave us.
It's not scary to lie dead under the bullets,
It's not bitter to be homeless,
And we will save you, Russian speech,
Great Russian word.
We will carry you free and clean,
And we will give to our grandchildren, and we will save from captivity
Forever! (A. Akhmatova)
Presenter 1. In many families, soldiers' triangles are still preserved - letters sent from the front by fathers and brothers, mothers and sisters. They wrote that they would return home with a victory. And how they waited for these letters at home!
(Slide 6)
Hello, dear Maxim!
Hello my beloved son!
I write from the front
Tomorrow morning again in battle!
We will drive the fascists,
Take care, son, mother,
Forget sadness and sadness
I'll be back victorious!
I will hug you at last
Goodbye. Your father. (A. Tvardovsky)
My dear relatives!
Night. The flame of a candle trembles,
I remember not for the first time
How do you sleep on a warm stove.
In our little old hut,
What is lost in the deaf forests,
I remember the field, the river,
Again and again I remember you. (A. Tvardovsky)
Presenter 2. An eternal flower lies at the monument to the fallen soldiers. He is either a carnation, or a rose, or a cornflower, or a chamomile. Even in winter, when there is snow and cold everywhere, there is a flower near the monument. Where does it come from? People bring it. Remove the wilted flower lay fresh and say: "We will never forget you heroes" (Slide 7)
The adult is the parent.
There will be fireworks and parades.
Those who are alive will receive rewards.
They will say speeches loudly, with a sense of duty,
And then everyone will be forgotten for a long time.
How many veterans are left?
How many didn't come too soon?
And now no one can say for sure
How many destinies were torn to shreds!
The memory still rumbles wars.
It hurts a lot at times...
In May, a noisy holiday was celebrated,
And now my soul is in sorrow.
I will visit you at the cemetery
Remember, dad
For your victory. (P. Davydov)
Lead 1.
Let's remember everyone by name, remember our grief ...
This is needed - not the dead! It needs to be alive!
We will honor the memory of the soldiers with a minute of silence, and everyone will thank them in their hearts for the happy world in which we live.
A moment of silence…. (Slides 8, 9, 10)
The whole world under the feet of the earth,
I live, I breathe, I sing
But always in my memory
Killed in battle.
What I owe them - I know
And let not only a verse,
My life will be worthy
Their soldier's death.
The fire is burning at the obelisk,
Birches in silence are sad,
And we'll bow low, low
Here an unknown soldier sleeps (A. Ternovsky)
Presenter 1. Throughout the bloody, such a long war, people did not lose faith in victory. "The enemy is not defeated, victory will be ours!"- these words sounded everywhere. And here it is - the great Victory Day!
The recording of Y. Levitan's speech sounds "Act of Unconditional Surrender of the German Armed Forces"
The country rejoiced! (Slide 11)
The adult is the parent.
Where the grass is damp from dew and from blood,
Where the pupils of machine guns glare fiercely,
In full growth, above the trench of the front edge,
The victorious soldier rose.
The heart beat against the ribs intermittently, often.
Silence. Silence. Not in a dream - in reality.
And the infantryman said: - Get rid of it! Basta!-
And noticed a snowdrop in a moat.
And in the soul yearning for light and affection,
The joy of the former melodious stream came to life.
And the soldier bent down and to the shot helmet
Carefully adjusted the flower.
Living people came to life again -
Moscow suburbs in the snow and on fire Stalingrad.
For the first time in four unthinkable years,
Like a child, the soldier cried.
So stood the infantryman, laughing and sobbing,
With a boot trampling a prickly wattle fence.
Behind the shoulders was a young dawn,
Foreshadowing a sunny day. (A. Surkov)
Presenter 1. Victory was given to us at a high price. The battle near Moscow, the Battle of Stalingrad, the unconquered Leningrad, the fiery arc and, finally, the assault on Berlin! Our people brought twenty million lives to the altar of victory. But eternal fire of our memory!
(Slide 13)
The adult is the parent.
Holy are the places of those battles,
Where the warriors went to the feat.
Country Victory Day spring
They brought from the battles.
We come to the square with flowers,
A soldier is standing there,
And the eternal flame is our memory
Always illuminates granite! (A. Poroshin)
Presenter 2. The globe is very small, but on it m there is a place for everyone in the world: and people, and animals, and water, and fish, and forests, and fields. How important and necessary it is to protect this fragile planet, our common home. And for this, all people on earth need to live in peace, enjoy the sun, every new day. (Slide 14)
Let's save the planet
There is nothing like it in the whole universe
All alone in the universe
What will she do without us?
Let's be friends with each other
Like a bird with the sky, like the wind with a meadow,
Like a sail with the sea, grass with the rain,
How friendly the sun is with all of us! (N. Naydenova)
Presenter 1. Victory is a peaceful sky, a peaceful life. For what what we live now: we rejoice, rejoice, laugh, dance, sing, play, learn ... We all owe to the fallen soldiers who gave their lives on the battlefields and to the living veterans, participants in this war, who lived to see the great Victory!
May there never be a war!
Let the cities sleep in peace.
Let the sirens howl
Doesn't sound over my head.
Let not a single shell burst,
None of them scribbles an automatic.
Let our forests announce
And let the years pass peacefully
May there never be a war! (N. Naydenova)
Presenter 2. We know about the war from the stories of our grandfathers and great-grandfathers, participants and veterans, who are becoming less and less. Let us remember them not only on this great holiday. (Slides 15,16,17)
The adult is the parent.
The anniversary has died down, the parades have died down,
The bright holiday is worthily celebrated;
But even after the celebrations, we do not need to forget,
The people who won the war.
Veterans are carried away by disease and years -
There are very few left alive now;
The people need to remember forever their exploits,
After all, they saved us from slavery and death!
Let orders and medals shine in the sun,
On the chest of veterans of the great war -
These people gave all their strength to the Fatherland,
Defended the freedom of the country in battles!
Anniversary passed. The parades went off
But we must not forget for a moment:
Veterans of the war will be the best reward
Our daily care for them! (M. Kryukov)
Children give flowers to veterans.
Nadezhda Krainova
Musical and poetic evening "Roads of War", dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory
Musical and poetic evening« Roads of war» , dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory.
Ignatenko Natalya Vladimirovna
Purpose of the event: getting to know musical and poetic works on a military theme.
Event objectives:
1. To cultivate a sense of patriotism, respect for the past of their people, love for the Fatherland.
2. Expand children's ideas about the events of the Great Patriotic War wars and the fate of the people of wartime.
3. Contribute to the development of the emotional-sensual sphere of preschoolers and their parents.
4. Develop the creative abilities of older preschoolers.
Event progress
Presenter 1. Good afternoon, Dear friends!
One of the biggest, exciting holidays of our country is approaching - the Day of victories. Today we are holding musical and poetry evening, dedicated 70th Anniversary victories. In honor of the heroes war people compose poems erect monuments, sing songs. Today we will also remember poems and songs about war.
(to the song "Sacred war» words by V. Lebedev - Kumach, music A. Aleksandrova, children enter the group)
Presenter 2. Seventy-four years ago, mortal danger hung over our Motherland. In the early morning, when everyone was still sleeping sweetly, the German troops treacherously, without announcing wars attacked our country. The Nazis wanted to finish war with a clear victory. German troops bombed our cities and villages from aircraft, shot with tanks and cannons. They destroyed everything in their path. All: both old and young stood up to defend their country. War this one was terrible and cruel, which lasted four years. It is too long! The men went to fight and women continued to work day and night in factories and factories: they sewed overcoats, knitted warm mittens, socks, raised and baked bread.
Presenter 1. The lines from the song that was now sounding became the anthem of the Soviet people. This is the very first war song that helped everyone to believe in victory united everyone, gave them courage and strength.
Presenter 2. The whole country is preparing for the Day victories, to the 70th anniversary of the end of the Great Patriotic wars over Nazi Germany. Every year on May 9, the whole country celebrates this great holiday - victory in WWII. It was on this day that WWII ended. This everyone was waiting for victory.
The guys are just - just starting to learn about this Great holiday, but they can already firmly and confidently answer the question "What is a day victories?» so, for example, as Nastya will do it now.
1. Verse "What is a day victories?»
2. Poem about the day Victory will be read by Kira
Presenter 1. There is not a single family in our country that would be bypassed war. Great happiness was the return home of fathers, sons, brothers, husbands. Listen to Agnia Barto's poem "Returned..." which Elisha will read to us.
3. A poem by Agnia Barto "Returned..."
Host 2. Poetry and wartime music is, of course same, poetry and about love. It was this high feeling, faith in a loved one, expectation of news from him, hope for a meeting that helped the Russian soldier to endure, not lose heart and, finally, survive. And a perfect example of this is our favorite song "Katyusha". Also, this name was given to the formidable secret weapon of our country, which terrified the German invaders.
Power "Katyusha" led the soldiers forward
Listen to the battle song
What people have said about her.
4. Song "Katyusha" performed by children and parents.
Presenter 1. We gratefully remember our warriors, defenders who defended the world in a fierce battle. They did not spare themselves, stood to the death, fought to the last strength for every city, for every village, for every street. Our soldiers fought fearlessly, enduring the exhausting summer heat, winter frosts, autumn slush and drizzling rain. Forward, only forward! After all, the soldiers defended their home, their family, their homeland, so that we now live under a peaceful sky.
5. Poem "Let the children not know wars» Varya will tell.
Poem "I play with soldiers" Tatyana Shapiro will be told by Misha.
Presenter 2. Many works about the Second World War tell about the heroism of children wars, about the boys who helped our soldiers, went to reconnaissance.
6. Poems by A. Tvardovsky "Tankman's Tale" read by the teacher.
Presenter 1. For four long years we walked along the roads of war soldiers. They saw destroyed cities and burned villages. But retribution inexorably overtook the enemy. Our soldiers went to victory, inch by inch, freeing their native land. The enemy was defeated. May 9, 1945 - a document was signed in Berlin on victory Soviet people over Nazi Germany. The Great Patriotic War war, which the Soviet people waged against the German invaders, ended with the Great victory.
Every year there are fewer and fewer veterans, people who survived war. Now we will watch a video report of a WWII veteran, Misha's great-grandfather.
Video report.
Poem, dedicated to veterans read by Matthew.
7. Poems about the Day Victory was prepared by Nikita, Artem and Sasha.
Presenter 2. The Great Patriotic War goes further into history war. But there are new songs about war, written by poets and composers who did not lie in the trenches, did not freeze in dugouts, did not go on the attack. One of these songs is the song written by composer David Tukhmanov and poet Vladimir Kharitonov “Day victories". This song immediately became one of the most famous, most popular songs about war. And now, for almost the fourth decade, it has been sounding and, probably, it will always sound for many years, especially on the day about which it is sung.
8. The song sounds "Day victories» performed by all participants evenings.
Lead 1. For a big holiday "Day victories» cities of the Russian Federation are decorated with elegant symbols. During the holiday, you can see people with St. George's ribbon. Sometimes, ribbons can be seen on cars, bags, instead of ribbons in the hair. Does anyone know what it means?
Lead 2. "George Ribbon"- public action for the distribution of symbolic ribbons, dedicating day celebration victories in the Great Patriotic war. According to the organizers, the main goal of the action “was the desire at all costs not to let the new generations forget who and at what cost won victory in the most terrible war of the last century whose heirs we remain, what and whom we should be proud of, who to remember. The action is held under the slogan: “Tie it. If you remember!, "I remember! I'm proud!".
Presenter 1. There are many important words in the world - Mom, Motherland, happiness. And there is one more important word - WORLD! WORLD is the Earth, the world is people, the world is children. The world is a calm and joyful life. No wars, no grief and tears. Everyone needs the world! Peace will be when all people on our planet will be friends. Our people endured all the horrors of this wars for so that there is Peace on Earth, so that people live in harmony with each other. Unfortunately, even now in some corners of the earth there is a cruel war, but, we think, people will never come to terms with this, they will fight for Peace.
9. Poems about the world and the peaceful sky will be read by Alina, Emilia, Yaroslav.
Presenter 2. Centuries will pass, and the unfading glory of the valiant defenders of the Motherland will forever live in the memory of the peoples of the world as an example of courage and heroism. So rejoice in the sun, love life and do good!
10. The song sounds "Let there always be sunshine" performed by children.
Lead 1. The war changed everything,turned everything upside down: plans, destinies, people's lives collapsed. At this time, a person begins to understand his significance, to feel an extraordinary spiritual uplift, he tries to do everything that only he can do, even if it costs his life.
11. Poems about the Great Day Victory will read Vic, Dima.
Lead 2. Many soldiers did not return home with that wars. They died defending their homeland. We will never forget the heroes: no matter how many years pass, the descendants will always carefully keep the memory of their grandfathers and fathers and thank them for defending the world in the name of our bright life! In order for people to remember the Great feat of their people, monuments and obelisks stand in all cities and villages, the Eternal Flame is lit.
12. The song sounds "Over the grave in a quiet park" performed by children.
Presenter 1. 70 years have passed since the Great Day victories. But even now people remember war, dedicate poems and songs to that difficult time, to those heroes who gave their lives for our future.
13. The song sounds "The cinema is on, the platoon is fighting" performed by children against the background of a video presentation.
Our creative the evening comes to an end, we propose to continue with tea under wartime music.
Related publications:
"Roads of Victory" Scenario of the propaganda team dedicated to the 70th Victory Dear colleagues, now in every preschool institution, they are preparing to celebrate a big event - the 70th Victory Day. Of course, our team.
The feat of educators during the Great Patriotic War. Scenario of a musical and literary composition for the 70th anniversary of the Victory In the center of the hall there are three teachers with three children. Each of them is busy with something: they draw, read, play with a doll, etc. In the corner of the hall.
Musical and literary evening dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory Day. Senior group. Purpose: to acquaint children with the historical past of our country (the Great Patriotic War). Tasks: continue to educate patriotic children in children.
Musical and poetic evening "Roads of War", dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory Musical and poetic evening "Roads of War", dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the Victory. Authors: Krainova Nadezhda Nikolaevna, Ignatenko Natalia Vladimirovna.
