Agnes Barto poem about weeping Tanya - You are the true children's poetry, in which there are four lines, and the pain of loss, and human sympathy, and initial knowledge of physics and the world order. Everyone will find in the "Tanya" something for themselves.
If a well-known nursery rhyme written other poets, he would not have lost his genius. Just a dramatic story with a consolation in the final sound would be different.
Mayakovsky in this world
Mother or cry:
Right from the shore
Sverzilsya into the river
Do not roar!
Let's go for water - and we'll get the ball.
Block Inconsolably crying Tatiana,
And tears, as if the blood is hot;
She pressed her heart wound
From ball crashed into the river.
It continuously sighs, then moans,
Remembering the former game.
Do not worry. Your ball will sink - We'll get it at evening.
Krylov certain damsel named Tatiana,
Mind of a fair and flawless body,
In the village the days dragging,
Not imagine leisure without the ball.
That legs give in, it will push the knob,
And he began to play with him, can not hear, and only half an ear.
God did not save happened proruha - Playful ball fell into the abyss of water.
Sobs, tears pouring unhappy Tatiana;
A water carrier Kuzma - one that always vpolpyana - Kartuz He has stripped
And thus the river:
"Enough, young lady! And this problem - not grief.
Here Sivko'll harness, and the waters will soon
Rush at a gallop.
Then my gaff-sharp, my roomy bucket - from the river, I skillfully and quickly
Obtain the ball ».
Moral: not just a simple water trucks.
Who knows what's what in the water, the comforting tears.
Yesenin was well Tanya, beautiful were not in the village,
Ruches Red sundress on the wide hem.
In the ravine behind the fences at evening walks Tanya,
And the foot kicks the ball - a strange love game.
Released guy, curly head bowed:
"Let the soul-Tatiana also kick with his foot?»
Pale, like a shroud, skholodela like dew.
Gas chambers-zmeeyu developed her braid.
"Oh, you, blue-eyed man, no offense, I tell you,
I kicked it with his foot, and now I can not find ».
"Do not be sad, my Tanya, you can see, the ball went to the bottom,
if you love me, I immediately dive for him ».
Lermontov showing white ball single
In the mist of the river blue - Escaped from Tanya not very intelligent,
He left his native shore ...
Play waves - the wind whistles,
Tanya was crying and screaming,
She is looking for his ball stubbornly,
Behind him on the bank runs.
Beneath the jet lighter blue,
Above it a golden ray of sunshine ...
And he, the rebel, asks the storm,
As if the storm will calm!
Pushkin Tatiana, dear Tatiana!
Are you now I pour tears:
The river allows for deep and obscure,
His wonderful toy
From the bridge accidentally dropped ...
Oh, how she loved that ball!
You're crying bitterly and zovёsh ...
Do not Cry! You will find your ball,
He turbulent river will not sink,
After the ball - not a stone, not a log,
Do not submerge it to the bottom,
His stream of bubbling drives,
Flows across the meadow, through the woods
To a nearby hydroelectric dam.
Horace loud sobs Tatiana, her inconsolable grief;
Down with tears streaming down her cheeks rozoplamennyh river;
Maiden's games in the garden, she indulged in carefree - Ball naughty keep in thin fingers could not;
High-spirited horse jumped, rushed down the slope,
From the edge of the cliff slid down in burnopenny flow.
Dear Maid, do not cry, the loss of your curable;
There commandment of slaves - to bring fresh water;
Stands, they are brave, accustomed to every job - safely swim triplets, and the ball will come back to you.
Bitter over the gray plain of the sea
Loud groans our Mary.
Thrown into the abyss
Tannin proudly fluttering ball,
Round like lightning.
"Hush, Tanya, do not be sad, -
- He tells her wise penguin,
Sit back hid
Body fat in the rocks, -
The ball - garbage, it does not sink,
Even if I wanted to.
Listen better break out the storm -
That's when you cry ».
On motives of the Finnish epic "Kalevala" Our Tanyen, golden-haired
The curls, with a golden sheen,
And grief blackened
Above the ball falling into the river,
Tears pouring. Above it is the cuckoo,
Forest affectionate bird,
Song sings for Tanyen loud,
So the cuckoo bird:
Tanyen Hush, hush if you were.
The ball does not sink in the stream,
He did not sink to the bottom,
And the river will not accept him,
Rubber ball, so
He linked his fate
With rubber that jungle
Nice race is eternity.
The Japanese version of the lost face Tanya-chan.
Cries of the ball, drove off in a pond.
Pull yourself together, daughter of a samurai.
If the heroes of the books can send sms
If the writers had nicknames