The poem Agnes Barto about the weeping Tanya —…

a Poem Agnes Barto about the weeping Tanya — a true hit of children’s poetry, four lines which are and the pain of loss, human compassion, and elementary knowledge of physics and the world order If the famous children’s poem written by other poets, he would not have lost his genius Just a dramatic story with a consolation in the final would have sounded differently Mayakovsky In this world Nothing is eternal, Here and now Matter or cry: Right from the shore had fallen out into the river Girl Tanya Ball whipped Tears From his eyes, Tanya don’t cry! Don’t be a Whiny virgin. Let’s go for the water And the ball will get Left! Left! Left! Unit Inconsolably crying Tatiana, And tears, like blood, is hot; She fell down a heart wound From falling in the river the ball is continuously sighing, groaning, Remembering the game do Not worry, Your ball will drown – let’s go get wings tonight, some Girl named Tatiana, a fair Mind and body without blemish, In the village of the days dragging, I could Not imagine leisure without the ball That leg will hit, push handle, And began to play with him, not with half an ear hears and the Lord is not saved sluchilsya this is my Playful ball fell into the water Crying, tears pouring poor Tatiana; And the water carrier Kuzma — the one that always Italiana – Cap he has stripped And tacos rivers: “enough, lady! And this trouble is not the mountain That’s Sivko harnessed, and water soon Pachuca gallop Hook my Oster, a bucket of my spacious – From the river I skillfully and promptly get the ball” Morality: not so simple simple water-carriers Who knows a lot about the water, the comforting tears Yesenin Good was Tanya, beautiful were not in the village, ruches red dress to the hem in the ravine behind the fences at evening walks Tanya And foot kicking a ball — loves strange game a guy came Out, bowed curly head: “Let the soul-Tatiana, also to kick his leg?” Turned pale like a shroud, shoodela as the dew of the gas Chamber-the snake has developed her scythe, “Oh you blue-eyed guy, no offense I will say, I leg kicked, and now can not find” “don’t be sad, my Tanya, apparently, the ball went to the bottom, if you’ll love me, I immediately followed him dive” Lermontov lone White ball In the blue mist of the river – ran Away from Tanya near, Left their native shore the waves Play — the wind whistles, And Tanya cries and screams, She’s your ball stubbornly looking For him running on the beach Underneath a jet lighter blue Above him a ray of Golden sun And he, rebellious, asks storm As if in storms there is peace! Pushkin’s Tatiana, dear Tatiana! With you now I pour tears: the River is deep and misty, the Toy is wonderful his From the bridge accidentally dropped On you this ball loved! You weep bitterly and call don’t cry! You ball your will find It in the rough river will not sink, Because the ball is not a stone, not a log, Not sink it to the bottom, His raging flood drives, Flows through the meadow, through the woods To a nearby hydroelectric dam Horace sobbing Loudly Tatiana, her grief inconsolable; Down rodoplemennyh cheeks tears stream river; Girl games in the garden she carelessly indulged – the Ball mischievous to keep in thin fingers failed; Jumped a frisky horse down the hill rushed, cliff edge slipped, fell in burnopedia flow a little virgin, don’t cry, the loss of your Salima; Has the command of slaves — fresh water to bring; Stand, they are brave, by all the usual – feel free to go swimming, and the ball will come back to you Bitter Over the gray plain of the sea Loud moans, our Tanya Tanya Thrown into the abyss of Tannin Proudly flies the ball, Round like lightning “Hush, Tanya, do not worry — says her wise penguin, Comfortably hidden body fat in the cliffs — the Ball is garbage, it does not sink, Even if I wanted to Look better: the storm will break — and then cry” based On the Finnish epic “Kalevala” Our Tangen, Golden-haired curls, with a Golden shimmer, From the sobbing And shaking with grief pochernevshy Over the ball that fell into the river, Tears pouring Over her cuckoo, Forest, gentle bird, the Song sings for Tangen loud, Filled diligently So cuckoo this bird: Tangen Hush, hush if you were the Ball in the stream will not sink It to the bottom is not immersed, And the river would not accept it, the Ball is rubber, so It is his fate linked With the rubber, from the Glorious jungle clan has ever Japanese version of Lost face Tanya-Chan is Crying about the ball rolling into the pond, pull yourself together, daughter of a samurai

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