Scenarios of musical and poetic evenings in literary associations. Script day of poetry in the library
SCENARIO OF A LITERARY AND MUSICAL EVENING
Poets of the Silver Age
\music sounds\
Vedas. - "The Silver Age" is a manifestation of the spiritual and artistic renaissance, which marks the rise of Russian culture of the late 19th - early 20th centuries. A galaxy of the most talented poets, each of whom is "truly individual", determine the significance of this phenomenon. The feeling of boundary, which Russia has been walking up to now, sounds like a dull bell in the verses of all the poets of the "Silver Age":
Great sorrow grows in the soul of all ...
How long will this feast, how long will this laughter last?
Which way, where are you going, iron age?
Or is there no more goal and you hang over the abyss? -
The fate of most of the geniuses of the "Silver Age" was tragic. But through the vicissitudes of the revolution, world and civil war, emigration, through fire and blood, the dungeons of the Cheka, mistakes and delusions, many of them carried a sense of the Motherland, an inescapable belief that "Russia will be great."
\ The lights go out, everyone sits down to the sounds of the violin /
Vladimir Mayakovsky
Listen!
After all, if the stars are lit,
So, does anyone need it?
So - someone wants them to be?
\ The light goes out, the stars light up \
A. Blok reads \ Dance "Carmen" \
You are like the echo of a forgotten hymn
In my black and wild fate
Oh Carmen, I'm sad and marvelous
That I had a dream about you.
External trembling, and babble and rustle
Deep, wild dreams
And your wild beauty
Like a guitar, like a tambourine of spring!
And you pass in thoughts and dreams
Like the queen of blessed times,
With a head drowning in roses
Immersed in a fabulous dream.
One can envy my childhood, I was surrounded by the care of aunts, grandmothers among the fragrant wilderness of Shakhmatov. And the very charm of the surroundings of nature was doubled by the fact that I took many walks with my grandfather Andrei Nikolaevich Beketov, “the father of Russian botany,” as he was often called.
... was the tender care of women
Protected from the harsh life
The years flew by peacefully
Like a blue spring dream.
My first book, "Poems about a Beautiful Lady" in 1905, seemed alien to many contemporaries. There was too much love in this poetry, which did not correspond to the time of the first revolution. And then I loved my wife Lyubov Dmitrievna Mendeleeva.
I'm young and fresh and in love
I am in anxiety, in anguish and in prayer,
Green, mysterious maple,
Invariably inclined towards you.
October 17 I met in Petrograd, excitedly and tensely peered into what was happening.
Something happened that no one else can evaluate, because history has not yet known such a scale.
It couldn't not happen, it could happen only in Russia.
Black evening.
White snow.
Wind, wind!
A person does not stand on his feet.
Wind, wind
In all God's world!
"Twelve" - whatever they are - is the best thing I've written. And when the Red Army and socialist construction began in 1918, I could no longer write, and since then I have not written any more.
Vedas. - At the very beginning of 1921, he felt, according to him, that something began to move in him
Parts of the stopped mechanism begin to move, ”and at the same time he became mortally ill.
Sounds like "Come see me"
I was born on June 11, 1989 near Odessa. As a one-year-old child, I was transferred to Tsarskoye Selo, where I lived until the age of 16. She studied at the women's gymnasium, but reluctantly. She wrote her first poem at the age of 11. In 1910 she married Nikolai Gumilyov, and we went to Paris for a month.
The music rang in the garden
With such unspeakable grief
Fresh and pungent smell of the sea
Oysters on ice on a platter.
In 1912 my The only son Leo and the first collection of poems "Evening" was published. In 1914, the Rosary collection - everyone admired my love lyrics, because a woman wrote about love.
In September 1917, the collection "White Flock" was released - this is a meeting with a new terrible reality. I didn't accept the revolution.
And the whole day, being afraid of their moans,
The crowd is rushing about in deathly anguish,
And across the river on mourning banners
Sinister laughing skulls.
I did not know then that at 21 my husband would be shot, and in 1935 my son would be arrested. He will go through the horror of the Gulag, and later become a world-famous scientist. During the war, I wrote a cycle of poems "Wind of War", in which there are many poems about the blockade of Leningrad:
Bring me a handful clean
Our Neva icy water,
And from your golden head
I will wash away the bloody traces.
In 1946 I was deprived of the opportunity to work, expelled from the writers' union. Friends helped to survive. The authorities looked at me as unreliable. In the summer of 1964 I was awarded the Italian Literary Prize, at 65 honorary title doctorate from the University of Oxford.
Vedas.- Anna Akhmatova had three things that preserved for her the “memory of the heart”, her eternal companions: a ring donated by her husband, a shawl from Marina Tsvetaeva and a portrait drawing by the Italian artist Modigliani.
He said: "Come here,
Leave your land deaf and sinful,
Leave Russia forever.
I will wash the blood from your hands,
I will take out black shame from my heart,
I will cover with a new name
The pain of defeat and resentment.
But indifferent and calm
I covered my ears with my hands
So that this speech is unworthy
The mournful spirit was not defiled.
\The phonogram of the song on the verses of S. Yesenin "I am a Moscow mischievous reveler" sounds\
I started writing poetry early, about nine years old. He considered himself a singer of the Russian village. Russia… What a good word… and “dew”, and “strength”, and “something blue…”
O Rus' - raspberry field
And the blue that fell into the river -
I love to joy and pain
Your lake longing.
My lyrics are alive with one great love, love for the Motherland.
My Rus', wooden Rus'!
I am your only singer and herald,
Animal poems of my sadness
I fed mignonette and mint.
I was merciless to myself, I took myself out on the underside. My time of sharp turns in the history of Russia, marked by the world war, revolutions, the destruction of the civil war, I especially feel sorry for the Russian villages.
…Russia! Dear heart!
The soul shrinks from pain.
How many years does not hear the field
Cock crow, dog barking.
My fate was not easy: endless disappointments in friends and loved ones,
Bitter mistakes and painful blows, anguish, pain, disorder, the collapse of hopes, I often drowned in wine. Where is the support and shelter? Even poetry does not save from melancholy. My mother was such a support.
\Reads the poem "Letter to Mother"\
M. Tsvetaeva.
Don't be sad Seryozha. We were all happy, not always, and all of us were broken and crushed by that new, stormy, terrible time.
Who is made of stone, who is made of clay,
And I'm silver and sparkle!
My business is treason, my name is Marina,
I am the mortal foam of the sea
I don't know literary influences, I know human ones... Favorite things in the world: music, nature, poetry, loneliness. Ownership is limited to children and notebooks. My main ability is the ability to love, or rather, the impossibility of not loving. I so quickly enter the life of everyone I meet, who is somehow dear to me. I want to help, to regret that he is afraid - either that I love him, or that he will love me ...
They fly - written hastily,
Heavy with bitterness and neg.
Crucified between love and love
My moment, my hour, my day, my year, my age.
“After Russia” is how I called my book of poems in exile. I went to my husband, to whom the path to Russia was closed - "White Guard". For 17 long years everything pushes me to Russia.
In June 1939, my son and I returned to Russia. The husband and daughter are already there, but not yet in prison.
Homesickness! For a long time
Exposed haze!
I don't care at all-
Where all alone
Be on what stones home
Walk with a market purse
To the house, and not knowing that it is mine,
Like a hospital or barracks.
In August 1941, in the small town of Yelabuga, my life was tragically cut short.
Vedas. – Friends, let me introduce one of the brightest stars of the “Silver Age”, the laureate Nobel Prize for the novel "Doctor Zhivago" by Boris Pasternak.
B. Pasternak - I would like to say in the words of Pushkin - "Friends, our union is beautiful!" And how many unfading stars still burn in the sky of our time...
Pasternak: Osip Mandelstam
Akhmatova: Mikhail Kuzmin
Block - Nikolai Zabolotsky
Tsvetaeva: Andrey Bely
Yesenin: Konstantin Balmont
Being famous is not nice.
It's not what lifts you up
No need to archive
Shake over manuscripts.
The goal of creativity is self-giving,
Not a hype, not a success
It's shameful to mean nothing
Be a parable on everyone's lips.
But we must live without imposture,
So live so that in the end
Attract the love of space
Hear the call of the future.
And leave problems
In fate and not among papers,
Places and chapters of a whole life
Underlining in the margins.
Others on the trail
They will go your way span by span,
But defeat from victory
You don't have to be different.
And owe not a single slice
Don't back away from your face
And to be alive, and only,
ALIVE, AND ONLY UNTIL THE END.
Scenario of the musical and poetic evening "The whole world from beauty."
Kondratieva Alla Alekseevna, teacher primary school MBOU "Zolotukhinskaya secondary school" village Zolotukhino Kursk region
Description: the script of the holiday will be useful for primary and secondary teachers, class teachers for conducting conversations, class hours And extracurricular activities based on the work of A. Fet.
Target: help students understand that beauty gives rise to beautiful feelings and beautiful thoughts, dreams.
Tasks:
1. Continue introducing children to the work of A. Fet.
2. Learn to analyze the content of what you read: help you understand the specifics of constructing a text, such as artistic description, to create imaginative micro-pictures and a complete picture in the imagination of children spring nature, paying attention to the figurative means used by the poet.
3. Learn to identify the artistic values of the work, the ability to formalize your judgment aesthetically.
4. Develop mental operations of comparison, classification, creative imagination.
5. Encourage children to create beauty around themselves, to appreciate it.
6. Raise interest in poetry, broaden horizons and lexicon children.
Equipment: portraits of A. Fet, photographs of the estate of A. Fet in Vorobyovka (Kursk region), paintings of spring nature, recordings, birch twigs, flowers, lit candles, book exhibition, "evening" class.
Event progress:
Teacher:Outside the window is spring, the sky is blue, dear. Sunny distance, lilac clouds ...
And we again have a poetic evening - a meeting with A. Fet. We "walked" with him in the autumn park, "sat" by the hot fire cold winter. But today, together with our wonderful compatriot poet, we will “wake up” the earth from sleep, so that “again the fragrant spring will blow its wing.”
Student 1:
Dear Afanasy Afanasyevich!
Stars greet you with golden eyelashes and a moon, and weeping steppe grasses, and spring and autumn roses; the densely spreading forest, blooming gardens and all spring flowers greet you.
Student 2: Blue and black angels greet you, looking out from under silk eyelashes...
Student 1: All winged sounds and radiant images between heaven and earth greet you. The younger brethren also bow to you: a blind beetle, evening midges, a silent toad that has come out onto the road and a singing lark.
Student 2: We welcome you too!
And as long as a bright rainbow of pure poetry stands above the muddy stream of life, kindness, beauty and love will rage in this world. You are Afanasy Afanasyevich, your poetry is a segment of this rainbow, so we again came to you on a date.
Student 3:
Here Fet spoke again ...
The forest woke up, the field woke up.
With a timid breath revived
The edge of the nightingale expanse.
Everything has sunk into the bliss of the day:
Anxiety, vanity, sadness ...
The poet reads to me
Poems that sounded over the Universe. (A. Alferova "A. Fetu")
Teacher:
Afanasy Afanasyevich was born into the family of a wealthy and enlightened Oryol landowner A.N. Shenshin. At first, the poet bore the double surname Shenshin-Fet, and then, by the will of fate, left only the surname of his mother, the German Charlotte Fet. Fet was a strong man, all his life he was haunted by failures, but he achieved everything he wanted. He spent the first half of his life in the village of Stepanovka, Oryol province, making a fragrant island out of it. And at the age of almost 60, he buys the Vorobyovka estate Kursk province, which he later called "earthly paradise."
Student 4:(reads) “The village of Vorobyovka stands on the left bank of the Tuskari River, and the master's estate is on the right, very high: a rocky house is surrounded by a huge park consisting of century-old oaks. The place is so high that the Church of the Root Desert is clearly visible from the park ... Many nightingales, rooks, herons nesting in the garden, flower beds laid out along the slope to the river, a fountain ... Beauty, silence, poetic mystery ... ”N. Strakhov wrote this after visiting Feta visiting Vorobyovka. And V. Solovyov wrote: “On the wings of my soul I fly to Vorobyovka every day.”
Teacher:
What attracted composers, poets, writers, artists, artists to Vorobyovka; what attracted Tchaikovsky, Strakhov, Solovyov, Tolstoy, Varlamov? What did Vorobyovka mean to Fet? What delight did our fields, meadows and groves arouse in the heart of a poetic magician?
Teacher:
Sparrow! Who now does not know this vociferous village? I can't say that it is extraordinarily beautiful. There are many wonderful places in Russia where the ponds are lighter, and the fields are more generous, and the people are kinder, happier. But the secret of beauty is connected with Vorobyovka. Feta is called the singer of beauty and it really is. It was in Vorobyovka that Fet wrote most of his poems, he seemed to come to life, woke up, inhaling the air of the nightingale region. Beauty amazed the poet, rejuvenated his heart, raised him on the wings of inspiration. Beauty, as Fet wrote, is “omnipresent”, i.e. everywhere. He "smells her scent", hears her "whisper". For him, her presence is in every dewdrop, in every blade of grass, in the sounds of a voice, in the ringing of a stream.
Student 5:
A whole world of beauty
From big to small
And you're looking in vain
Find its beginning.
What is a day or a century
Before what is infinite?
Although man is not eternal,
That which is eternal is human. (Between 1874 and 1886)
Student 6:
How we lack in our time the delight before the joy of life, before the beauty, exactly the same as in the lines of Fet:
This morning, this joy
This power of both day and light,
This blue vault
This cry and strings
These flocks, these birds,
This voice of the waters
These willows and birches
These drops are these tears
This fluff is not a leaf,
These mountains, these valleys,
These midges, these bees,
This tongue and whistle
These dawns without eclipse,
This sigh of the night village,
This night without sleep
This haze and the heat of the bed,
This fraction and these trills,
It's all spring. (1881(?))
Teacher:
If you look at the portrait of Fet, you can say that he is a stern person, but in fact he was a very kind, cheerful, sympathetic person. He loved it when friends gathered in his house and arranged "Eden evenings", that is, heavenly evenings at which music sounded, sang, and read poems.
And on one of these evenings, Varlamov's romance to Fet's poems “Don't wake her up at dawn” sounded, which later became very popular. They even said this: “This poem became a song and became almost popular ...”
And today, too, this romance is often sung, and we will listen to it.
(Listening to the recording of the romance “At dawn, don’t wake her up”)
Teacher:
Children also liked to visit Fet's house. And then one day in March, the poet told his little friends about the arrival of spring in a short fairy tale poem. That's just the spring he has for us quite unusual. Everyone depicted and depicts spring in the image of a woman, but Afanasy Afanasyevich calls spring the groom, and his bride is the earth that awaits warmth and affection.
Student 7:
The sky is clear again
Spring smells in the air
Every hour and every moment
The groom approaches.
Sleeping in an ice coffin
Enchanted by sleep
Asleep, mute and cold,
She is all under the spell.
But with the wings of spring birds
He blows snow from his eyelashes,
And from the cold of the dead sin
There are drops of tears. (March 22, 1879)
Student 8:
Leaving the house in early spring, Fet was fascinated by everything that surrounded him, and by themselves the lines were born to him - the call of Spring:
More more! Ah, the heart hears
It has long been the call of her dear,
And everything that moves and breathes
Breathe in a new spring.
Already the grass shines from the thawed bumps,
The whiny lapwing yelled,
Chain of snow clouds retarded
Today the first thunder broke. (1882)
Teacher:
The spring sun gave birth to spring melodies one after another. The joyful brilliance of a sunny morning, the thrill of spring life, the breath of the breeze. Each line is ready to merge with the joy of the world.
(Listening to Ogarev's recording “I came to you with greetings!”)
Teacher:
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, the great Russian composer, said this about Fet’s talent: “Fet is a completely exceptional phenomenon ... Fet boldly takes steps in the field of art, therefore Fet often resembles Beethoven ... Like Beethoven, he was given the power to touch such strings of the soul that are inaccessible to artists ... This is not just a poet, but rather a poet-musician ... ”Afanasy Afanasyevich himself loved and understood music very much, loved the works of Chopin, Schumann, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven. He was especially fond of Beethoven's Sonata No. 24 ("Moonlight").
(Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata sounds)
Against the background of music, the student reads a poem:
Student 9:
The dawn says goodbye to the earth,
Steam falls at the bottom of the valleys,
I look at the forest, covered with mist,
And on the fires of its peaks.
How imperceptibly they fade
Rays and go out at the end!
With what bliss they bathe
Trees lush their crown!
And more and more mysterious, immeasurable
Their shadow grows, grows like a dream;
How thin at the dawn of the evening
Their light essay is uplifted!
As if sensing a double life
And she is doubly fanned, -
And the earth feel native
And they are asking for the sky.
Teacher:
The great Russian poet N. Nekrasov compared Fet with Pushkin: “We can safely say that a person who understands poetry is not in any Russian author after A.S. Pushkin will not find as much poetic pleasure as Fet will give him ... "
Student 10:
The garden is in bloom
Evening on fire
So refreshing - makes me happy!
Here I stand
Here I go
Like a mysterious speech I'm waiting for.
This dawn
This spring
So incomprehensible, but so clear!
Is it full of happiness
Do I cry
You are my blessed secret. (1884)
Teacher:
What is Fet's inspiration? Yes, in love for the earthly world, for all the bewitching world. Despite the formidable life, lasting losses, this noble man always carried in his chest "fire, stronger and brighter than the whole universe."
We will now read the poem "Spring Rain".
Try to imagine everything you read about in front of you.
Assignments to multiple students:
1. Read the poem expressively.
2. Think about what the author's feelings are expressed in the poem.
3. Read the words that you liked the most. Explain why?
4. Think about what pictures you can draw for this poem.
5. Explain how you understand the lines: "The sun shines in the break of the clouds."
"From lindens it pulls with fragrant honey."
6. What do you think, what came to the garden “drumming on fresh leaves”?
7. Find the interpretation of the words: shines, trembles, veil.
Student 11:
Still light in front of the window,
In the breaks of the clouds the sun shines,
And the sparrow with its wing,
Bathing in the sand, it trembles.
And from heaven to earth,
Swaying, the curtain moves,
And as if in golden dust
Behind it is the edge of the forest.
Two drops splashed into the glass
From lindens it pulls with fragrant honey,
And something came to the garden
Drumming on fresh leaves. (1840-1892)
Teacher:
It is difficult to imagine a tall house, brick buildings in Vorobyovka without a radiant dawn sun, without a nightingale trill, without a lot of roses that were everywhere: near the house, they decorated flower beds, arbors, paths. For Fet, the rose is a symbol of the divine secret that he was trying to reveal. He spoke like this:
Poets of all ages sing about her,
There is nothing more tender and beautiful in the world,
Than this scroll of scarlet petals,
Opened with a fragrant bowl.
The rose is Fet's most beloved flower, in which he has always seen the most perfect creation of natural beauty. And every time, at the sight of the very first May rose flower, the poet admired him:
Student 12:
You are as tender as morning roses
What before the dawn brings the east to the earth;
You are so bright that involuntarily tears
They cloud my attentive pupil;
You are so pure that the thoughts of the earth
Involuntarily die in the chest in front of you;
You are so holy that the angels are holy
They call you their mortal sister.
Student 13:
From May until late autumn, the "Queen Rose" delighted the poet. But only autumn roses evoked sadness, sadness about the passing:
He showered the forest on his peaks,
The garden bared its brow
September died, and dahlias
The breath of the night burned.
But in a breath of frost
Alone among the dead
Only you alone, queen rose,
Fragrant and opulent.
In spite of cruel trials
And the malice of the fading day
You are the shape and breath
In the spring you blow on me.
Teacher:
We cannot but admire the poet, whom neither adversity, nor illness, nor old age could separate from earthly beauty:
Petty care is not allowed
At least for a moment, don't be ashamed.
It is impossible before eternal beauty
Do not sing, do not praise, do not pray.
--Earlier in Sundays all the rich and poor aspired to church for service: some to ask God for forgiveness, and some went in order to calm down, take a break from worldly life. Fet always went to Root Hermitage. And on one of those days, on the way to the temple, he thought: “Where is that saint that gives so much strength, where is that that so calms the soul?” During a prayer in the church of Akim and Anna, as he said, God himself sent an answer.
Against the background of P.I. Tchaikovsky’s recording “In the Church”, a poem sounds:
Student 14:
Are you not here as a light shadow,
My genius, my angel, my friend,
You talk quietly with me
And quietly fly around?
And give timid inspiration
And sweet heal the disease,
And you give a quiet dream,
My genius, my angel, my friend... (1842)
Teacher:
Fet loved to sit on quiet warm evenings with the common people, with those who helped him live, who surrounded him every day. He could listen to heartfelt Russian folk songs for hours, and he loved to sing them himself. One of his favorite songs was “Cossack parable”, which tells about the dream of Stepan Razin and the song “At the dawn, at the dawn”.
(Listening and performance of Russian folk songs)
Teacher:
Fet, who felt the world, like no one else. Fet created a whole cycle of poems, which he called "Evening Lights" - this is a hymn to our nightingale Kursk region, which has experienced everything in its fate. Each poem is a short story.
He admired the stars, the realm of sleep and rest:
Student 15:
What a night! On everything what bliss!
Thank you, native midnight land!
From the realm of ice, from the realm of blizzards and snow
How fresh and clean your May flies!
What a night! All the stars to one
Warmly and meekly look into the soul again,
And in the air behind the song of the nightingale
Anxiety and love spread. (1857)
Student 16:
What a night! How clean the air
Like a silver leaf slumbers,
Like a shadow of black coastal willows,
How peacefully the bay sleeps
As the wave does not sigh anywhere,
How silence fills my chest!
Midnight light, you're the same day:
Only shine is whiter, shadow is blacker,
Only the smell of juicy herbs is thinner,
Only the mind is brighter, more peaceful disposition,
Yes, instead of passion, he wants breasts
Here is the air to breathe. (1857(?))
Teacher:
But the night passed, the day came again, and already the admiration passed on to everything that surrounded us in the sunlight. Fet was an excellent connoisseur of plants. He has symbolic poems, such as "The First Lily of the Valley". This poem is about everything first, about the beautiful, because the lily of the valley is a symbol of freshness, purity.
Student 17:
O first lily of the valley! From under the snow
You ask for sunbeams;
What a virgin bliss
In your fragrant purity!
Like the first ray of spring is bright!
What dreams descend in it!
How captivating you are, a gift
Flaming Spring!
So the maiden sighs for the first time
About what - it is not clear to her -
And a timid sigh is fragrant
The excess of life is young.
Teacher:
Listening to one poem after another, we can say that beauty is omnipresent.
What does beauty mean?
And why do people deify her?
She is a vessel in which there is emptiness,
Or fire raging in a vessel?
- Man has been thinking about this question for many centuries. If you can “smell”, “hear the whisper” of beauty, then you are its subtle connoisseurs. Fet was a living spring of love for everything that surrounded him. He had his own concern - to find and embody everything beautiful, giving him eternal life. Many of us pass by flowering gardens, past ordinary plants familiar to us, not noticing what Fet saw:
Student 18:
From the fields comes the voice of the herd,
The robins are ringing in the bushes
And from the whitened apple trees of the garden
A sweet fragrance wafts.
Flowers look with longing in love.
As pure as spring,
Dropping with fragrant dust
Fruit ruddy seeds.
Sister of flowers, friend of roses,
Look into my eyes,
Navei life-giving dreams
And sing a song in your heart. (1858)
Teacher:
Stop before the wonderful beauty given to us by the world, bow to its greatness, think about tomorrow. What can a person do without this beauty? After all, kindness comes from her.
Years are running... New verses are heard over the world. We must keep in our hearts, pass on from generation to generation the delight in front of the melodious, warm, bright Fetov's poems.
Student 19:
Again the birds fly from afar
To the shores that break the ice
The warm sun is high
And the fragrant lily of the valley is waiting.
Again in the heart nothing will die
Till the ascending blood cries,
And with a bribed soul you believe
That, like the world, love is endless.
But will we come together again so close
In the midst of nature, we are pampered,
As seen walking low
us the cold sun of winter?
Teacher:
A.A. Fet (1820-1892) considered beauty the only goal of the artist. Many of his works have been set to music. The main theme of his poems is love and nature.
The music of P.I. Tchaikovsky "Dreams", the student reads a poem:
Student 20:
Vladimir Solovyov. A.A. Fetu
Flying on swan wings
The double edge of space and centuries,
You overheard on the royal heights
The living song of silent singers.
And lured your mellifluous genius
Alien gods on our shores,
And under the beam of resurrected hymns
The Sarmatian snows have melted.
And a magnificent laurel in the middle of the unsociable steppe
To your song blossomed and made a noise,
And the eagle of dear poetry
To you from the heights of the unknown flew. (October 1884)
On July 6, 1986, the first Fetovsky readings and the first Fetovsky holiday took place in the village. Vorobyovka, Zolotukhinsky district.
Since then, every year on the first Sunday of July, Fetov literary holidays are held here, which are organized by the Committee for Culture of the Kursk Region and the administration of the Zolotukhinsky District. Writers, literary critics, artists, museum workers from Kursk, Orel, Belgorod and other cities come here.
Marina Kolesnikova
Scenario of the literary evening "Poets for children" ( preparatory group)
Scenario of a literary evening of poetry"poets for children" preparatory group
TASKS:
Deepen and expand knowledge about the creativity of children poets.
Cultivate a love of art.
Pre work:
Reading and memorizing poems by A. S. Pushkin, S. Yesenin, K. I. Chukovsky, S. V. Mikhalkov, S. Ya. Marshak, A. L. Barto, E. A. Blaginina, viewing illustrations, drawing favorites stories for these works.
Event progress
presenter: Hello dear friends! Today we are gathered in our literary living room to talk about poetry. What is poetry (children's answers). That's right, poetry is poetry. Who writes poetry? (children's answers). Poets. What are poems - these are works written in rhyme. Today we will meet children poets different years , learn a lot of interesting things about them, read poems. Oh, guys, you hear someone rustling. I'll go see who it is.
A cricket appears
Cricket: Hello guys! I am a cricket - the keeper of the most interesting, most ancient books. Now we will go to the last century, when ladies wore long, puffy dresses, and gentlemen in wigs and tailcoats (they show balls of the 18th - 19th centuries on the screen). In these times, the great Russian was born and lived poet Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. He was born on May 26, 1799 in Moscow. He spent a lot of time with his nanny Arina Rodionovna. It was she who instilled in him a love for literature singing songs, telling fairy tales, legends, sayings and jokes. Many plots and motifs of fairy tales told by her poet used in my work. What works of A. S. Pushkin do you know (children's answers). And nowadays people have not forgotten poet, they erect monuments to him, bring flowers, there is a Pushkin Museum, Pushkin streets, schools study his works. And we will read his poems (children read poetry).
Next poet - Sergei Yesenin(a portrait on the screen, who was born in 1895 in the Ryazan province in a peasant family. He was an expert in the folk language and the Russian soul. His poetry is saturated with love for the Motherland and Russian nature. He did not write specifically for children, but children loved his poems. And they are still read with pleasure. Let's listen to his poetry (children read poetry).
presenter:
And now I invite you to the dance of those times "polonaise" in order to feel the era in which the great A. S. Pushkin worked.
Dance "Polonaise"
Cricket: Let's continue our journey. And get acquainted with Korney Ivanovich Chukovsky (screen portrait).He was born in St. Petersburg. He spent his childhood in Odessa and Nikolaev. Self-taught, studied English language. Chukovsky began to take an interest in poetry with early years wrote poems and even poems. He wrote many works for children. What do you know (children's answers). Let's honor them (children read)
Next poet- Sergey Vladimirovich Mikhalkov (screen portrait). Born in Moscow in the family of an employee. His father instilled in him a love for the Russian literature, he read a lot of different books to him, helped to understand their meaning. Mikhalkov fought at the front. During the war he also wrote for children. Poet wrote not only for children, but also for adults, He wrote the anthem of Russia. What works do you know (children read poetry).
Next poet- Samuil Yakovlevich Marshak (screen portrait) was born in Voronezh. He began writing poetry while still at school, then graduated from the university and continued to write for children. Marshak understood the children and their problems well. He created living recognizable images of adults and children, animals and birds, and even things that got into different situations, causing laughter, sympathy, empathy. What works of Marshak do you know (children answer). Now let's read his poems.
presenter: Something guys, we stayed too long. Time to get charged
Dance "Charging"
Agnia Lvovna Barto (screen portrait) was born in Moscow in the family of a veterinarian. She received a good home education, which was done by her father. Then she studied at the gymnasium where she began to write poetry and at the same time studied dancing. At first she wrote a cycle of poems for the smallest "Toys". Then the verses "Girl ryovushka", "Girl grimy" were written. Barto's poems have been translated into many languages of the world.
Elena Alexandrovna Blaginina (screen portrait) was born in the Oryol village. At first she studied at the Pedagogical Institute and wanted to become a teacher, but she realized that she wanted to write poetry and graduated literary institute. The children loved her and loved her poems. Poems about what is near and dear children: about the rain and the rainbow, about the wind and birches, about the garden and the garden, and of course about the children themselves. Let's listen to her poems (children read poetry).
Cricket: Guys! You are great! You have learned and read the verses beautifully. Met famous children poets. I hope that you will read books, join the library and maybe start writing poetry yourself. And now I would like to give you gifts. Gives gifts.
Related publications:
Scenario for February 23 preparatory group Defender of the Fatherland Day (preparatory group) The course of the holiday Children enter the hall with balloons, flags, fireworks, perform exercises.
Children enter the hall with balls in right hand, to the music, they do rebuilding and exercises, give the balls to their mothers and stand in a semicircle. 1-Happy holiday.
Scenario of a literary evening dedicated to N. Nosov Purpose: To continue to acquaint children with the work of Nikolai Nosov. Encourage children's interest in books and reading. Preliminary work: Listening.
Scenario of a literary evening dedicated to S. V. Mikhalkov “Now we know exactly who he is - Mikhalkov!” Purpose: Consolidation of children's knowledge about the work of S. V. Mikhalkov. Tasks: -continue to teach children to recite poems by heart; -develop.
Scenario of the event within the framework of the literary club "Sweet Tale" (senior group) SWEET TALE. Children go to the music room. Leading: The huge face of the moon From heaven to earth looks strictly. And immersed in silver In space.
Reader
What is the magic of poetry?
Perhaps in the nudity of feelings?
In the ability to touch the strings of the heart?
After all, the words that fly from the mouth can
Happy to make the day gloomy.
Or maybe it's just an obsession?
And yet, as long as there is light,
Behind the line, a line, like a necklace,
Slowly stringing words ... a poet.
Host: Good afternoon, dear guests, lovers of poetry. The beautiful month of March has arrived. And it is not in vain that March was chosen to celebrate the wonderful, romantic holiday of Poetry Day. After all, March personifies the beginning of spring, the rebirth and awakening of nature.
Moderator: World Poetry Day was established by the delegates of the 30th session of the General Conference of UNESCO in 1999. And the first World Poetry Day was held in Paris on March 21, 2000. Since then, it has become a good tradition to celebrate this wonderful holiday.
Host: It seems to me that writing poetry is like being able to fly like a bird. This cannot be learned, but anyone can learn to understand poetry. Our today's meeting is devoted to poetry. “While the candle is burning ...” The candle flame has long been a symbol of poetic evenings. Poetry will be the real host of our meeting, and poetry will be the main guests.
Host: Yesenin, Pushkin, ……………. Blok, Akhmatova still warm our hearts and give admiration regardless of where we live.
Host: Only a few poets develop their own, completely personal relationship with poetry. Such poets, of course, include the great Russian poet Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. And the more you get to know him, the more you understand: he was not just involved in the world of poetry - it was the world of poetry that was enclosed in him, and he was his master ...
A.S. Pushkin Saxonova
Host: At all times in society, poetry has enjoyed great attention and occupied a special place. The people have always appreciated its lofty and sacred mission. Every person needed poetry. They sought solace in her, the beauty of feelings and the world, they loved her ...
Pushkin Shafieva Maral
Host: Poetry. What is the definition of this truly magical phenomenon? Poetry is a word that comes not so much from the mind as from the heart. Life itself breathes in poetry - everyone knows this. As a rule, poetry found nourishment in the folk song, so the poet was always in the midst of the people.
S.A. Yesenin Tereshchenko, Shiverov
Presenter: Love in the poetry of the Silver Age: One of the most difficult and interesting periods of the spiritual development of Russia, the era of the "Russian Renaissance", the era of heightened aesthetic sensitivity, the era of anxiety and quest, excitement, tension, the tragedy of time
Akhmatova Biryukova
Leading: You cannot confuse this poetess with any other poet. You will recognize her poems unmistakably - by a special chant, unique rhythms, not a general intonation.
Tsvetaeva Chkhvirkiya Safonova
Host The fates of these people are tragic, just like the fate of their Motherland. Each of these fates is a drama. None of them can be said to have lived a long, comfortable life. And all the more amazing is that boundless faith, endless love that burst from every line of their poems. Love for the Motherland, its history and its nature, love for a woman, love for life in all its manifestations.
Trubin Block
Host: “Love, as an eternal and youthful feeling, has served and will continue to serve as an inexhaustible material for poetry; she brings an ideal attitude and light into the everyday prose of life: ”wrote I.A. Bunin in one of his articles. There is eternal truth in these words:
Mayakovsky Shchepoteva
Christmas Mehdiyev
Moderator: There has always been a tendency in world practice not to take a poet seriously. True, in our Fatherland, society listened to poetic word, in the words of Yevgeny Yevtushenko - "a poet in Russia was more than a poet."
Yevtushenko Huseynova
Host: One of the most favorite topics in poetry is love. How many lines have been written by poets about this sublime feeling, how much paper, papyrus, and ink have been translated by poets. The great bright feeling is sung by almost all the poets of the world. Love inspired poets to great deeds, they dedicated their best creations to their loved ones.
Drunina Gilyazetdinova
Asadov Ushakova Kulyanova
Host: Through all his work, the poet carries an inextinguishable feeling of ardent love for his homeland, for his mother. The love that he suffered, which contains pain for his country, pain for a person.
Gamzatov Magomedova Golonkova
Belinsky Smirnova
Host: Poetry makes our lives richer, giving ordinary words a special magic. The power of the word has a special energy that captivates and subjugates our imagination.
Kashezheva Khafizova
Host: Thanks to poetry, we can feel more deeply the fullness of life with its joys and sorrows, which are necessary for our inner growth. After all, in just a few lines you can make a person feel the whole world.
Zabolotsky Bochkova
Gaft Saidova
Host: Have you ever wondered why a person begins to write poetry? Where does the amazing gift come from to make words sound different, in a new way, from which other people take their breath away and their hearts beat faster?
Host: Foggy Albion. Dear good old England! The most beautiful part of Europe! How many quivering and kind words it has been said about you how many sublime and pathetic verses have been composed about you by the great English poets. Heine, Shakespeare, Burns, Kipling, Wilde and many, many others.
Host: And this is ... the most mysterious Englishman. He is both a philosopher and a sage who has studied human nature to the subtleties.
Carroll Matushina
Host: At the end of the 20th century, that is, quite recently, the English BBC radio station asked its listeners to name, in their opinion, the best poems of English poets. Thousands of people responded. Rudyard Kipling's The Commandment was his favorite poem. For many, this poem has become the motto of life. I hope that you, our dear guests, will also find these lines useful and you will not remain indifferent to them...
Kipling Mikheev
Moderator: When talking about poetry, is it possible not to mention ……… poetry! ……….poetry is still little known to the general reader. In our view, it is invariably associated with something frozen, petrified. At the same time…….poetry is very melodic, sing-song. Every word in the poem has a symbolic meaning.
Murat (if you please learn)
Host: Poems are a way to materialize your inner world a little in poetic lines, sometimes finding the right answers and discovering the best in yourself in them ... and not only. Poems are an expression of the author's philosophy, his view of this world...
Misuzu Vyshinsky
Host: Poetry had different times. Poet and time are inseparable. But at all times, in all centuries, poetry was believed as the voice of one's own soul.
Heine Pashedko
Aznavour Filimonova
Moderator: Poetry abroad is subtle and multifaceted. It carries a great thought for the reader and a great mystery for the listener. It fascinates, makes you feel the thought through the experiences and intonation of the reader.
Burns Mitkevich Solodovnikov
Narrator: In a changing world undergoing rapid transformation and social transformation, poets echo civil movements and are able to draw attention to the injustice of the world, as well as sing of its beauty.
Christmas Baby (film)
Host: On May 9 we will celebrate the 70th anniversary of the end of the Great Patriotic War. What should it be like today, the history of the past war? How to tell it so that it really becomes a lesson for today's generation? We must not forget what and how then we had to endure, overcome, overcome. Let our candle burn at this moment in memory of the heroes.
A little pause
Host: So our literary evening has come to an end. We have touched only the smallest part literary works poets. Much remains unsaid. Poems of many poets remained unread. But we hope we have awakened your interest in poetry. And we are sure that every year there will be more and more fans of poetry.
Host: We sincerely hope that this day and our meeting will be remembered for all of you as a good and happy day spent with friends. All the best to you! See you soon!
The magical world of poetry!
Scenario of a musical and poetic evening
"It's easy to think of me..."
Mokshina Ludmila Nikolaevna,
teacher of Russian language and literature
MOU "Lyceum 8" of the city of Tikhvin
Leningrad region
Scenario of the musical and poetic evening "Easy think about me ..."
Presenter (against the background of music and looking at the poster):
Poets are not born by accident.
They fly to the ground from a height,
Their life is surrounded by deep mystery,
Although they are open and simple.
The eyes of such divine messengers
Always open and true to the dream,
And in the chaos of problems, their souls forever shine with those.
Worlds that are lost in the dark.
B. Okudzhava's song "Your Majesty the Woman" sounds
All the uncertainty of a woman
I asked light and shadow:
What labor, what sacrifice
Did I deserve this day?
“Whoever wants to understand a poet must go to the country of the poet,” suggests the great Wolfgang GOETHE
We invite you to the country "Rimma Kazakov"
(The cut sounds: “Madonna”, “Wedding Music”, “
"RK" lights the first candle.
I'm not afraid to be open. I'm not afraid to give up my heart. Trample it, I'll pick it up, wash it and put it back in. I came to the conclusion that I will not lose. It's not safe for me."
The poetess was born on January 27, 1932 in Sevastopol. In early childhood she lived in Belarus, after graduating from school she entered history department Leningrad University. The first poems were published in 1955.
"RK" Verse "I've always missed basketball growth" (against the background of successive portraits)
Rimma Kazakova entered the space of literature at the age of 23. The poetess was in no hurry to the reader ...
"RK" To love me, you need to see and find a lot in me.
Surprisingly bright, intelligent person, and, at the same time, a strong-willed woman.
« Certainly. Life beat me and beat me as it wanted. I am an ugly woman. I'm the kind of star that always wanted to get on a pedestal
A wise interlocutor and a mischievous adventurer who boldly wrote life with clean slate, fell in love without looking back and gave people amazing poems and songs.
“RK” “I was just discovering what love is, often finding myself in a position of sacrifice or sadness”
“Because sometimes you fall in love with some idiot ...”
“I always chose men for myself - the most rotten ones. I felt sorry for them. I also liked pretty clubs.”
Song "Get old, turn white ..." (N.A. Ilyenko)
"RK" I don’t really believe in higher powers, but sometimes it occurs to me that the poet has a special purpose and that these powers still help.”
Poem. "Some moment elusive" (Zhukova Nastya)
Many lines from RK's poems have become almost winged. Let's read them and think why.
Maybe because it's about us, about everyone?..
(Presenters distribute pink and blue sheets of poetry)
*** All the uncertainty of a woman I asked light and shadow: what a toil, what a sacrifice did I deserve this day? Thank you for all the moments of pain overcome in the distance for this miracle blue, for this sun on the cheek, because yesterday's bitterness disposed as I wish and what's even more fearless I will pay for every holiday. *** I love who I love and strange, gentle humility and this poem its impossible for… |
Why, well, why are you ruining your heart.
Your strange soul has become blind.
I'm good, but you don't love me.
I love you and you are so bad.
I. Rylovnikov "Fools live in the world"
"RK" - And what do you lack for complete happiness? - the journalists of the Republic of Kazakhstan once asked. .
- Happiness. For happiness is a state, not something material. And we are all hunters of happiness on the roads of life. Happiness is not a fur coat that is doomed to wear constantly, it is a passing and transient object. He must be caught.
"Two" (dance-declamation number)
Dream me! And then I already forget
That I need to love and protect you.
Dream, don't be angry, I'm alive too!
Dream. Touch! You can lay down next to me.
Dream me tired, submissive, heavy,
Dream about how feverish ice dreams,
How husbands dream of their abandoned wives,
Like a mother's son, Like a child's flight.
Well, here I lie down, lower my eyelashes,
I count to a hundred - And I fall down!
Tell me why don't you want to dream?
Or maybe I forget my dreams?.. Dream!..
(Olya gets up), giving way:
“She was a beauty, a goddess, an angel… and especially extravagant,” RK said about Bella Akhmadulina.
N. Sinitsena (BA) lights the 2nd candle
Vedas. "Candle" - that was the name of one of the collections of BH.
Vedas Like a forged bronze rose, she lived among us, unique, incomparable, incomparable to anyone, and meanwhile a little tormented by her own glory.
(Portraits)
BA verse "New notebook"
. A rare case for our country - Akhmadulina was recognized as a classic during her lifetime.
Her first collection appeared in 1962. She called the book "String", in this brief eloquence life was declared - the fate of a stretched string
Akhmadulina has always been an object of love and admiration. The poetess did not like to talk about her past personal life. “Love is the absence of the past,” she once wrote in one of her poems ...
However, her ex-husbands, who retained admiration for Bella for life, themselves spoke about past relationships in their diaries and memoirs.
The first husband of Akhmadulina was Evgeny Yevtushenko. She met him at the Literary Institute. “We often quarreled, but quickly reconciled. We loved each other, and each other's poems. Holding hands, we wandered around Moscow for hours, and I ran ahead and looked into her Bakhchisaray eyes, because only one cheek, only one eye was visible from the side, and I did not want to lose a piece of my beloved and therefore the most beautiful face in the world. Passers-by looked around, because we looked like what they themselves failed to do ... ”the poet later recalled. This marriage lasted three years...
The second husband of Akhmadulina was the writer Yuri Nagibin.
While Akhmadulina, according to the memoirs of the poetess Rimma Kazakova, was especially extravagant: in the obligatory veil, with a fly on her cheek “She was a beauty, a goddess, an angel,” Kazakova says about Akhmadulina.
Akhmadulina and Nagibin lived together for eight years…
Romance "And finally I will say" (Sonya)
With their third husband - the famous artist and sculptor Boris Messerer - they lived together for more than thirty years.
He became her kind of guardian angel.
Poem. "Drawing" (video - drawing)
The heroine of Akhmadulina is kind to friendship, seeing in it one of the most important aspects human communication. Bella was in no hurry to reproach her cunning comrades:
BA "God forbid I mourn my friends, I will survive everything else."
Romance "On my street which year ... (Kudryavtseva V)
From an essay by a contemporary writer. poet and publicist Dmitry Bykov : Bella Akhmadulina was regal, tough, kind, nervous, beautiful. There was a spirit in her. Most likely, many believers will not agree with me. But the Spirit is felt, felt. I don’t know what was more in it, pathos or sincerity, probably both, equally. But this was a poet touched by God. (Dm Bykov)
Melodeclamation “FROM the depths of my troubles” (L.N. and Rylovnikov I, Tselovalnikov E)
From an essay by Dm. Bykov: Bella Akhmadulina was the most beautiful poet of her time. The most helpless and the most victorious. For those who loved her and did not love her, she was equally significant and, strange to say, equally dear.
Now they don't do that.
They say that a poet needs teachers. The BA recognized Pasternak and Mandelstam, Akhmatova and Blok and, of course, Marina Tsvetaeva as their mentors.
Varya lights the third candle. (Cutting)
And a delightful arch of the forehead.
Fate kissed me on the lips
Fate taught to excel.
Mouth I paid a generous tribute,
I poured roses on the coffin ...
But on the run I have a heavy hand
Grabbed by the hair of fate
Nadezhda Yakovlevna Mandelstam, the poet's widow, a smart woman and stingy with compliments, wrote: "I do not know a fate worse than that of Marina Tsvetaeva."
I have been writing poetry since I was 6 years old. I’ve been typing since I was 16. I wrote both French and German… I don’t know literary influences, I know human ones…
Favorite things in the world: music, nature, poetry, loneliness.
Complete indifference to the public, theater, visual. Ownership is limited to children and notebooks.”
Shulgina N.L.
It is impossible to talk about Tsvetaeva without talking about her most important ability, her passion - the ability to love,
(Chopin's waltz sounds, under it a Girl and a Young Man appear on the stage. They whirl in a waltz and conduct a silent conversation, laugh, also silently, do not take their eyes off each other)
Love: May 5, 1911 Tsvetaeva came to Koktebel to Maximilian Voloshin, a friend for life, one of the few. From that day on, her life took on meaning.
Meeting with 17-year-old Sergei Efron, who had just arrived there from the boarding house. Love from the first day - and for life.
And - think about it:
- Marina and Seryozha were born on the same day, September 26, Marina was a year older.
On October 16, 1941, Sergei was shot.
Marina committed suicide on August 31, 1941.
If someone says that this is a coincidence, they will be mistaken. This is destiny. Bitter!
Girl: “Sergey is a thin name, but somewhat fragile, without a core, and Sergey needs some kind of pairing ...”
(P. Florensky)
Love: He was seventeen, she was eighteen. He gave her a carnelian bead on the Koktebel coast ...
Biographer 1: The letters that they wrote to each other all their lives cannot be read dispassionately, as examples of the epistolary genre. This is a shock, this is an impossible intensity of passions, burning even today.
Young man: Sergey - Marina: “I live by faith in our meeting:
Without you, there will be no life for me, live! I will not demand anything from you - I do not need anything, except that you are alive ...
Take care of yourself, I implore you ...
God bless you.
Your S."
Girl: Marina - to Sergey: “My Serezhenka! .. I don’t know where to start: What I will end with: my love for you ...”
Biographer 2: That's it, they've been all my life. Through wars, other people's kitchens, impoverished life, in rags - but on "You"! In this "You" there was not alienation, but pride in the sovereignty of one's neighbor, respect for his complexity.
(The Girl and the Young Man leave the stage, she walks with her head resting on his shoulder, and he does not take his tender look off her).
Marina:
I defiantly wear his ring!
Yes, a wife in eternity, not on paper! -
His face is too narrow
Like a sword.
His mouth is silent, corners down,
Painfully gorgeous eyebrows.
Tragically merged in his face
Two ancient bloods.
He is thin with the first subtlety of the branches.
His eyes are beautifully useless! -
Under the wings of outstretched eyebrows -
Two abysses.
In his person I am faithful to chivalry,
To all of you who lived and died without fear! -
Such - in fateful times -
They compose stanzas - and go to the chopping block.
Audio "I wrote on a slate board"
Vedas. Among the guests of our evening there are passionate admirers of MC poetry. These are not big words, and everyone will be able to convince you of this now. Literature teacher Victoria Grigorievna!
"Poetic fireworks"
"Game with Spectators"
Quotes and aphorisms
Goddesses married gods, gave birth to heroes, and loved shepherds.
In dialogue with life, it is not her question that matters, but our answer.
All our bad experience with love we forget in love.
All women lead into the mists.
The sin is not in the darkness, but in the unwillingness of the light.
Women talk about love and are silent about lovers, men - vice versa.
Life is a train station... life is a place where you can't live.
To love is to see a person as God intended him and his parents did not realize him.
Love in us is like a treasure, we don’t know anything about it, it’s all about the case.
You can joke with a person, but you can't joke with his name.
Our best words- intonation.
Do not be ashamed, the country of Russia!
Angels are always barefoot...
Poets are the only true lovers of women.
Let the young people not remember
About bent old age.
Let them not remember the old
About blessed youth.
Success is to be on time!
What can we say about God? Nothing. What can we say to God? All.
I don't want to have a point of view. I want to have vision.
Inna Val. Inna Valentinovna
"Dear children!
Never throw bread, but you will see in the street, under your feet, pick it up and put it on the nearest fence, for there are not only deserts where people die without water, but also slums where they die without bread. Perhaps the hungry will notice this bread, and he will be less ashamed to take it like that than from the earth.
Never be afraid of the funny, and if you see a person in a funny position: 1) try to get him out of him, if it’s impossible - 2) jump into him to the person, like into water, together the stupid situation is divided in half; half for each - or at worst - do not see the funny in the funny!
Never say that EVERYONE does this: everyone always does bad things, since they are so readily referred to. Well, if they tell you “NOBODY does this” (does not dress, does not think, etc.) - answer: “Who am I!”
Do not refer to "unfashionable", but only to: "ignoble".
Don't get too angry with your parents, remember that they were YOU and you will be THEM.
In addition, for you they are parents, for themselves they are I. Do not exhaust them with their parenthood.
Feel free to give up your seat on the tram to the elder. Be ashamed - DO NOT give in!
Do not distinguish yourself from others - in the material. Others are also you, the same you.
Do not celebrate victory over the enemy. Enough - consciousness. After winning - lend a hand.
Do not speak ironically about your loved one in front of others (even if only about your beloved animal!); others will leave - yours will remain.
P.S. This moral code Tsvetaeva formulated in a letter to the readers of a children's émigré magazine, which in the end was never published.
Romance "How many have fallen into this land" (Sonya)
Vedas. Our Evening Ends… About Flowers (Each guest attaches a flower to the corresponding side of the pyramid)
Maksimova Karina sings I. Talkov's song "Poets are not born by chance"
