The flowers have dried up and look. Poems about autumn - the best poems about autumn. White blizzards coming soon...

So the beautiful autumn comes into its own with small steps, pushing the summer back. In the mornings it became fresh and cool, and in the afternoon the sun no longer has time to warm the air. It becomes very beautiful on the streets of the city and on the alleys of parks and squares. Trees and shrubs change their color: here and there, among the green foliage, yellow, orange spots flash.

Do not pass by the autumn beauty - stop, draw your child's attention to the charm of the surrounding nature, to the riot of autumn colors. Observe, talk about what changes have occurred in nature, what your baby has seen new. If it is difficult, show, tell verses about autumn.

I offer a selection of poems about autumn. Read a few verses to your son or daughter, and memorize the one that you especially like!

Autumn
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And they look sad
Bare bushes.

Withers and turns yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.

A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..

Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.
A. Pleshcheev

Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
My heart got sadder.

Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.

The sun laughs less
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.

Konstantin Balmont

Summer is ending
Summer is ending
Summer is ending
And the sun don't shine
And hiding somewhere.
And the rain is a first grader
A little shy
In oblique line
Lining the window.

I. Tokmakova

leaf fall
Forest, like a painted tower,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
It stands over a bright meadow.
Birches with yellow carving
Shine in blue azure,
Like towers, Christmas trees darken,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there in the foliage through
Clearances in the sky, that windows.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
During the summer it dried up from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He enters his motley tower ...

Ivan Bunin

autumn
When the through web
Spreads the threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant Annunciation is more audible,

We are not sad, afraid again
Breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer lived
We understand more clearly.

Athanasius Fet

Autumn
I walk, I'm sad alone:
Autumn is around.
Yellow leaf in the river
Summer is gone.
G. Novitskaya

For the winter
A rustling string
Following the sun
Birds fly over us
To the far side.

They fly to winter.
And in the yard, in the cold,
clothespins on a rope,
Like swallows on a wire.

Carpet tracks
Somewhere behind the autumn clouds
The crane hushed up the conversation.
On the paths where the summer ran,
Multi-colored carpet lay down.

The sparrow was sad outside the window,
Unusually quiet at home.
On autumn carpets
Winter is slowly coming.
V.Orlov

Autumn leaves
Empty birdhouse,
The birds have flown
Leaves on the trees
It also doesn't fit.

All day today
Everyone is flying, flying...
Apparently, also in Africa
They want to fly.
I. Tokmakova

Sparrow
Autumn looked into the garden
The birds have flown away.
Outside the window rustling in the morning
Yellow blizzards.
Under the feet of the first ice
Crumbles, breaks.
The sparrow in the garden will sigh
And sing -
He's shy.
V.Stepanov

Autumn has come
Autumn has come
It started to rain.
How sad is
Gardens look.

The birds were reaching out
To warm climes.
A farewell is heard
The cry of a crane.

The sun does not pamper
Us with their warmth.
Northern, frosty
It blows cold.

It's very sad
Sad at heart
Because it's summer
Do not return already.
E. Arsenina

AUTUMN MIRACLE
It's autumn now, bad weather.
Rain and slush. Everyone is sad:
Because with the hot summer
They don't want to break up.

The sky is crying, the sun is hiding
The wind sings mournfully.
We made a wish:
Let summer come to us again.

And this wish came true
Having fun kids:
Miracle now - Indian summer,
It's hot in the middle of autumn!
N. Samoniy

sad autumn
Leaves flew away
Follow the birds.
I am red autumn
I miss you day after day.

The sky is sad
The sun is sad...
It's a pity that autumn is warm
It doesn't last long!
N. Samoniy

Complains, cries
Autumn outside the window
And hides tears
Under someone else's umbrella...

Sticks to passers-by
Bores them -
different, different,
Sleepy and sick...

That makes you tedious
windy longing,
That breathes a cold
Moist city...

What do you need
Weird madam?
And in response - annoying
Whip on the wires...
A. Herbal

autumn wind
The wind raises a storm
Throwing the day at your feet;
Leaves fly away
To low clouds.
Soared yellow wall
Tornado swirling,
They pull you into the air
Filled the world.
Only one interrupted the circle:
autumn fire
About winter warning
Suddenly burned his hand.
Holding him back a little
In a swirl of others
I let go again on the road -
Catch up with yours!
Olga Bagaeva

autumn girl
autumn girl
With a red umbrella
Wandering among the pines
Crying about

What didn't happen
What didn't come true
Forgotten by the heart
It has grown with the summer...
A. Herbal

Autumn is coming
Gradually getting colder
And the days got shorter.
Summer is running fast
A flock of birds, flashing in the distance.

The ashberries have already turned red,
The grass has become withered
Appeared on the trees
Bright yellow foliage.

In the morning the fog swirls
Motionless and gray-haired,
And by noon the sun warms
Like a hot summer day.

But the wind barely blows
And autumn leaves
Flickers in a bright dance
Like sparks from a fire.

◘ Autumn humor: poems-pies :)

AUTUMN BY THE EYES OF CLASSIC POETS

And every autumn I bloom again.

(A.S. Pushkin)

Is in the autumn of the original

Is in the autumn of the original
Short but wonderful time -
The whole day stands as if crystal,
And radiant evenings ...
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But far from the first winter storms
And pure and warm azure pours
To the resting field...

( F . Tyutchev)

Autumn evening

Is in the lordship of autumn evenings
A touching, mysterious charm:
The ominous brilliance and variegation of trees,
Crimson leaves languid, light rustle,
Foggy and quiet azure
Over the sad orphan land,
And, like a premonition of descending storms,
A gusty, cold wind at times,
Damage, exhaustion - and on everything
That gentle smile of fading,
What in a rational being do we call
Divine bashfulness of suffering.

( F . Tyutchev)

Late in autumn

Late in autumn
I love the Tsarskoye Selo garden
When he is quiet half-dark,
As if in a nap, embraced

And white-winged visions
On the dim lake glass
In some bliss of numbness
They stagnate in this semi-darkness...

And on the porphyry steps
Catherine's palaces
Dark shadows fall
October early evenings -

And the garden darkens like an oak tree,
And under the stars from the darkness of the night,
Like a reflection of a glorious past
The golden dome comes out ...
(F. Tyutchev)

October has arrived...

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.
The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,

But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
In the departing fields with his hunting,
And they suffer winter from mad fun,
And the barking of dogs wakes the sleeping oak forests.

(A. Pushkin)

Already the sky was breathing in autumn ...

Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
She stripped naked with a sad noise.
Fog fell on the fields
Noisy geese caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.

(A. Pushkin)

Glorious autumn

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

(N. Nekrasov)

Before the rain

A mournful wind drives
I flock to the edge of heaven.
Broken spruce groans,
The dark forest whispers dully.
On the stream, pockmarked and motley,
A leaf flies after a leaf,
And a stream, dry and sharp;
The cold is coming.
Twilight falls on everything,
Flying from all sides,
Whirling in the air with a cry
A flock of jackdaws and crows...

(N. Nekrasov)

Autumn

Autumn has come; bad weather
Rushing in the clouds from the seas;
The face of nature sullen,
The view of bare fields is not cheerful;
The forests are dressed in blue darkness,
Fog walks over the earth
And darkens the light of the eyes.
Everything is dying, it has cooled;
The space gave turned black;
Wrinkled his eyebrows white day;
The rains poured incessantly;
They settled in neighbors with people
Longing and sleep, blues and laziness.
So it’s like the old man’s illness is boring;
That's exactly the same for me
Always watery and boring
Foolish empty talk.

(A. Koltsov)

autumn

When the through web
Spreads the threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant Annunciation is more audible,

We are not sad, afraid again
Breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer lived
We understand more clearly.

(A. Fet)

The sheets trembled, flying around

The sheets trembled, flying around,
The clouds of the sky covered the beauty
An evil storm burst from the field
Tears and mosques and howls in the forest.

Barely visible in a warm nest,
Light-breasted, light, small,
Not afraid of the storm alone.

And the roll call thunders,
And the noisy haze is so black...
Only you, my dear bird,
Barely visible in a warm nest.
(A. Fet)

The swallows are gone...

The swallows are gone
And yesterday dawn
All the rooks flew
Yes, like a network, flickered
Over that mountain.

In the evening everyone sleeps
It's dark outside.
The leaf falls dry
At night the wind is angry
Yes, knock on the window.

It would be better if snow and blizzard
Happy to meet you!
As if in fear
Shouting out to the south
The cranes are flying.

You will go out - willy-nilly
It's hard - even cry!
Look across the field
Tumbleweed
Jumps like a ball.

(A. Fet)

Tired all around

Tired all around: tired and the color of heaven,
And the wind, and the river, and the month that was born,
And the night, and in the greenery of the dull sleeping forest,
And the yellow leaf that finally fell off.

Only a fountain murmurs in the far darkness,
Talking about life invisible, but familiar ...
O autumn night, how omnipotent you are
Refusal to fight and death languor!
(A. Fet)

Autumn

How sad are the dark days
Silent autumn and cold!
What languor desolate
They are asking for our souls!
But there are days when in the blood
Golden-leaved headwear
Burning autumn is looking for eyes
And the sultry whims of love.
The bashful sadness is silent,
Only the caller is heard
And, fading so magnificently,
She no longer regrets anything.
(A. Fet)

autumn

How good were sometimes spring bliss -
And the soft freshness of green grasses,
And leaves fragrant young shoots
On the branches of the quivering awakened oak forests,
And the day is a luxurious and warm radiance,
And bright colors gentle fusion!
But you are closer to the heart, autumn tides,
When a tired forest on the soil of a compressed field
With a whisper, it blows away the old sheets,
And the sun later from the desert height,
The despondency of the bright is fulfilled, looks ...
So peaceful memory silently illuminates
And past happiness and past dreams.

(N. Ogarev)

Autumn leaves are circling in the wind...

Autumn leaves are circling in the wind
Autumn leaves cry out in alarm:
"Everything perishes, everything perishes! You are black and naked,
O dear forest, your end has come!"

The royal forest does not hear the alarm.
Under the dark azure of harsh skies
He was swaddled by mighty dreams,
And the strength for a new spring ripens in it.

(A. Maikov)

leaf fall

Forest, like a painted tower,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
It stands over a bright meadow.

Birches with yellow carving
Shine in blue azure,
Like towers, Christmas trees darken,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there in the foliage through
Clearances in the sky, that windows.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
During the summer it dried up from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He enters his motley tower ...

( And . Bunin)

Autumn. Thickets of the forest

Autumn. Thickets of the forest.
Moss of dry swamps.
The lake is white.
Pale sky.
The water lilies have bloomed
And the saffron blossomed.
paved paths,
The forest is empty and naked.
Only you are beautiful
Though dry for a long time
In the bumps by the bay
Old alder.
You look feminine
Into the water half asleep –
And get silver
First of all, spring.
(I. Bunin)

October dawn

The night has turned pale and the moon is setting
Over the river with a red sickle.
Sleepy fog in the meadows is silvering,
The black reed is damp and smoking,
The wind rustles the reeds.

Quiet in the village. Lamp in the chapel
Fading, tired grief.
In the quivering dusk of a chilled garden
Coolness pours with the steppe waves ...
Dawn breaks slowly.
(I. Bunin)

Autumn

Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
My heart got sadder.

Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.

The sun laughs less
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.

(K. Balmont)

autumn

Autumn has come

dried flowers,

And they look sad

Bare bushes.

Withers and turns yellow

Grass in the meadows

Only turns green

Winter in the fields.

A cloud covers the sky

The sun does not shine;

The wind howls in the field;

The rain is drizzling.

The waters rustled

fast stream,

The birds have flown away

To warm climes.

(A. Pleshcheev)

boring picture

Boring picture!
Clouds without end
The rain is pouring down
Puddles on the porch...
stunted rowan
Wet under the window
Looks village
Gray spot.
What are you visiting early
Autumn, has come to us?
Still asks the heart
Light and warmth!
(A. Pleshcheev)

Autumn. Sprinkled all over our poor garden

Autumn. All our poor garden is sprinkled,
Yellowed leaves fly in the wind;
Only in the distance they flaunt, there, at the bottom of the valleys,
Brushes are bright red withering mountain ash.

Joyful and sorrowful to my heart,
Silently I warm your little hands and press,
Looking into your eyes, silently pouring tears,
I can't express how much I love you.
(A. Tolstoy)

The fields are compressed, the groves are bare

The fields are compressed, the groves are bare,
Fog and damp from the water.
Wheel behind the blue mountains
The sun went down quietly.

The blasted road is slumbering.
She dreamed today
What is very, very little
It remains to wait for the gray winter.

Oh, and I myself am often ringing
I saw yesterday in the fog:
Red month foal
Harnessed to our sleigh.
(S. Yesenin)

Golden foliage swirled

Golden foliage swirled
In the pinkish water of the pond
Like a light flock of butterflies
With fading flies to the star.

I'm in love with this evening
The yellowing dol is close to the heart.
Youth-wind up to the shoulders
Headed on a birch hem.

And in the soul and in the valley coolness,
Blue dusk like a flock of sheep
Behind the gate of the silent garden
The bell will ring and freeze.

I've never been thrifty
So did not listen to rational flesh,
It would be nice, like willow branches,
To tip over into the pink waters.

It would be nice, on a haystack smiling,
Muzzle of the month to chew hay ...
Where are you, where are you, my quiet joy,
Loving everything, wanting nothing?
(S. Yesenin)

Autumn

Quiet in the thicket of juniper along the cliff.
Autumn, a red mare, scratches her manes.

Above the river banks
The blue clang of her horseshoes is heard.

Schemnik-wind with a cautious step
Crushes the leaves on the ledges of the road

And kisses on the rowan bush
Red ulcers to the invisible Christ.

(S. Yesenin)

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Analysis and text of the poem by A. Pleshcheev “Autumn has come, the flowers have dried up and look sadly ...” Alexey Nikolaevich Pleshcheev is a famous Russian poet of the 19th century. He is known for his uncomplicated, but elegant and stylistically polished poems for children. Pleshcheev also wrote more complex works, turning to civil lyrics, but it was the poems known to us from readers for younger schoolchildren that brought him fame.

Petrashevets, a person close in outlook to socialist ideals, he nevertheless struck literary criticism with his consonance with the literature of romanticism. The motives of longing, loneliness and withering are clearly visible even in his poems for the smallest. Such is the mood of the poem "Autumn".

The poem "Autumn" Alexei Nikolaevich Pleshcheev

Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And they look sad
Bare bushes.

Withers and turns yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.

A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..

Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.

Analysis of Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn"

The theme of this poem is the onset of autumn, and the idea is the withering of nature at the end of summer. The lyrical hero watches how the flowers wither, the grass turns yellow in the meadows, how the clouds cover the sky and migratory birds leave their native lands.

The main images aimed at conveying a dreary, joyless mood are the image of bare bushes from which the last leaves have fallen, the image of the sun that has gone behind the clouds and the image of flying birds.

However, despite the piercing feeling of autumn melancholy, this poem is not without dynamics. Traditionally, works related to landscape lyrics, for the most part, consist of adjectives. In the same, undoubtedly landscape sketch, the verb plays a significant role. For comparison, there are 12 verbs and only 4 adjectives in the poem. Why does the poem seem so descriptive, as if painted on canvas?

The attentive reader will note that two of the three verbs in this quatrain are intended not so much to designate an action as to pay attention to the color, the appearance of the phenomenon. Grass "turns yellow", winter, that is, winter crops, barely "turn green" in recently plowed again, clearly brown fields. So, without using a single epithet, the author conveys the entire color palette of late autumn. This technique is called color painting.

There are also epithets in Pleshcheev's poem, and one of them is constant - these are "far lands". A constant epithet is an epithet that is used together with the word being defined so often that it becomes traditional to write them together. Also epithets are the phrases “fast stream” and “bare bushes”.

Attention should also be paid to other means of artistic expression. Personification plays an important role in this poem. In such a small text, the author uses it 3 times! “Autumn has come”, “a cloud covers the sky”, “the wind howls in the field”. This somewhat "humanizes" the gloomy autumn landscape, makes it alive and active.

The poem consists of four quatrains, cross-rhyming. It is written in three-foot trochaic, which is of great importance. Many children's poems are written in the three-foot chorea, thanks to which they are quickly remembered, because this size is very uncomplicated, and it also fits well with the music of the romance, thanks to its melodiousness.

It is this mixed, but pleasant impression that Pleshcheev's poem "Autumn" leaves behind. It combines longing for the passing summer (perhaps the "summer of life") of a romantic poet of a difficult fate and the light melodiousness of a children's poem or a naive song.

This article presents the text and analysis of the poem about "Autumn" by A. Pleshcheev "Autumn has come, the flowers have dried up and look sadly" pleasant reading!

Autumn
Alexey Pleshcheev
Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And they look sad
Bare bushes.

Withers and turns yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.

A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is drizzling..

Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.

autumn artist
Autumn tied a colorful apron
And I took buckets of paints
Early morning walking through the park
Leaves gilded circled

* * *
A.S. Pushkin
Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
She stripped naked with a sad noise.
Fog fell on the fields
Noisy geese caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.

* * *
A.S. Pushkin
Sad time! Oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.

* * *
Alexey Tolstoy
Autumn. All our poor garden is sprinkled,
Yellowed leaves fly in the wind;
Only in the distance they flaunt, there at the bottom of the valleys,
Brushes are bright red withering mountain ash.

* * *
E. Alexandrova
Autumn drives clouds in the sky,
Dancing leaves in the yard.
Mushroom, put on thorns,
He drags the hedgehog to his hole.
Sparrow
Vladimir Stepanov
Autumn looked into the garden - the birds flew away.
Outside the window, yellow blizzards rustle in the morning.
Underfoot the first ice crumbles and breaks.
The sparrow in the garden will sigh, but it is shy to sing.

* * *
September, October, November - autumn.
Gold in leaves. Unexpected sitting.
Rain, bad weather, parting with warmth.
Sadness and sadness. Wind. Withering.

Autumn(excerpt)
Alexey Pleshcheev
Boring picture!
Clouds without end
The rain is pouring down
Puddles on the porch...
What are you visiting early
Autumn, has come to us?
Still asks the heart
Light and warmth!

Autumn
K. Balmont
Cowberry ripens
The days got colder.
And from the bird's cry
The heart is only sadder.

Flocks of birds fly away
Away to the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.

The sun laughs less
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.

Summer flies away
Evgeniya Trutneva

It suddenly became twice as bright,
Yard as in the sun, -

This dress is golden
At the birch on the shoulders ...

In the morning we go to the yard
Leaves fall like rain

Rustle underfoot
And fly, fly, fly.

Gossamer webs fly
With spiders in the middle.

And high from the ground
The cranes flew by.

Everything flies! It must be
Our summer is flying!

* * *
Fedor Tyutchev

Is in the autumn of the original
A short but wonderful time -
The whole day stands as if crystal,
And radiant evenings ...
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But far from the first winter storms
And pure and warm azure pours
To the resting field...

Poems about autumn special, like the beautiful autumn itself ... Someone loves her and looks forward to it every year, while someone can not stand the dreary season. Everyone sees something different, special, unique in it.

I offer the same unique collection. poems about autumn and yet I hope that it is a wonderful time of the year for you.

Poems about autumn

leaf fall, leaf fall,
The yellow leaves are flying.
Yellow maple, yellow beech,
Yellow circle in the sky.
Yellow yard, yellow house.
The whole earth is yellow all around.
yellowness, yellowness,
So autumn is not spring.
V. Nirovich

autumn

When the through web
Spreads the threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant bells and whistles are heard

We are not sad, afraid again
Breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer lived
We understand more clearly.

tree umbrellas

The rain often visited us
In September,
And the heat goes away
In September,
Quietly the apple trees tremble
In September,
Lost your outfit
In September,
I will cheer up the trees:
- No blues!
I will give each umbrella
In September.

N. Andrusenko

In October

The gray day is shorter than the night
Cold water in the river
Frequent rain wets the ground,
The wind whistles through the wires.
Leaves fall into puddles
The bread was put away in the bins,
Before the winter cold arrives
Houses are warming up.

G. Ladonshchikov

On a clear autumn day

1
With a book under my arm
I'll go out on the porch.
To the clouds flying
I'll raise my face.

I'll sit down
On knees
I'll put down the book.
On a clear autumn day
I'll look quietly.

2
By an open book
In a hat to the eyebrows
wiggling your eyebrows,
An ant is walking.

He steps firmly
leg blue,
By itself no more
Any letters.

As if in an aspen
By the gray river
stood quietly
At the end of the line

And went down the line
Gliding on the snow
As if to a water pump,
To the old letter "I".

Lines, like clearings,
Lined up.
Like an autumn forest
The letters see through.

It seems to have passed
snowy night,
And reads traces
Ant in the morning.

Here around the corner
In a round "O"
I saw the covered
Lake covered in snow.

Letter "P" caught
On his way
Like a door without a home
Or a hole in the house.

Door or gate
In a deserted garden...
Comma leaves
They fly in the wind.

And a terrible beetle
Already dead
Met right away
The letter "J" is in the puddle.

Somehow getting there
To the old letter "I",
Ant
I thought
Went out to the fields.

And taking a deep breath
The whole expanse of the earth,
Knocked on the leg
Leg blue.

3
blue porch,
blue fence;
Behind the fence is a field
And beyond the field - boron.

In field
across the river
Fragile bridges;
Typed in italics
Bare bushes.

It's gone somewhere
In a hat to the eyebrows
wiggling your eyebrows,
Wise ant.

And through points
Stretched out in a row
Like loners
Hurry across the field...

4
The sky darkened.
Twilight and silence...
Stiff
You are sitting on the porch.

And to the cold stars
Don't raise your face
It's like it's become a step
The porch itself.

And wherever you look
Don't drop your eyes -
yellow chickens
They look out the windows.

Reflection from the windows
The log cabin is golden.
Milky Way in the sky
Like smoke from chimneys.

And you leave the porch
Like an ant
Stretched by hand
Eyebrow hat.

S. Kozlov

In October

October and November
Each animal in its own hole
Sweetly sleeps and dreams
Waiting for Spring.

Only little Katya
Get out of bed
Wash in five minutes
They lead you by the hand to the garden.

It's still dark outside
Grandma waving at the window.

E. Zhdanova

In the window girlfriend autumn

In the window girlfriend Autumn
rustling leaves,
She me without asking
Will treat you with sadness.

Leaves are covered with yellow,
And the wind whips
And taking my hand
Will lead you through the park.

Show all outfits
Reminds me of winter
Whispering softly in your ear
There is joy in me too.

Look what leaves!
Look what carpet -
Every season
There is a magical choir.

At Summer, the chirping and trilling of the nightingale,
And Winter has blizzards and white snows,
Spring sings with a drop of a babbling stream,
And Autumn will decorate the trees and fields.

In the window girlfriend Autumn
rustling leaves,
She got me to dance
With foliage will invite ...

V. Rudenko

Storm

flew
Fierce squall -
The linden grove attacked!

And rushed like chickens
Leaves are yellow somewhere.

And, spreading its wings-branches,
Lindens mournfully rustle -
They got excited, like hens,
Lost chickens...

A. Shibaev

In the aspen forest

In the aspen forest
Aspens tremble.
Breaks the wind
From aspens kerchiefs.
He is on the path
Throw off scarves -
In the aspen forest
Autumn will come.

V. Stepanov

The forest is now brighter and quieter

The forest is now brighter and quieter,
The height is visible through the branches.
Its top is like a roof
Burnt by autumn fire.
Fluffy mist among the trunks,
Like smoke swirling at dawn,
Leaves fly like sparks
And burn out on the ground.

V. Orlov

Leaf walker

V. Shulzhik
Red rain falls from the sky,
The wind carries red leaves ...
leaf fall,
change of seasons,
Leaf walker on the river, leaf walker.
The sides of the river freeze,
And there is nowhere to go from frost.
The river was covered with a fox coat,
But trembling
And can't get warm.

mischievous people

L. Razvodova
circled over me
Rain of mischievous leaves.
How good is he!
Where else can you find one like this?
Without end and without beginning?
I began to dance under him,
We danced like friends
Rain of leaves and me.

autumn

I. Melnichuk
A flock of birds fly away
Clouds are rushing, sobbing.
Like a thin blade of grass
Aspen trembles in the wind.
I tell her:
- Take it easy,
Do not be afraid of the white winter.

Autumn

M. Geller
Gives autumn miracles
And what more!
The forests are dressed up
In golden hats.
On a stump they sit in a crowd
red mushrooms,
And the spider is a dodger! -
Pulls the network somewhere.
Rain and withered grass
Sleepy more often at night
incomprehensible words
They mumble until the morning.

Autumn

M. Khodyakova
If the leaves on the trees turn yellow,
If the birds have flown to a distant land,
If the sky is gloomy, if the rain is pouring,
This season is called autumn.

Autumn

E. Intulov
A crow cries in the sky: - Kar-r!
There's a fire in the forest, there's a fire in the forest!
And it was just very:
Autumn settled in it!

Autumn

V. Schwartz
The tedious rain is pouring down on the ground,
And the space drooped.
Autumn screwed up the sun
Like a light bulb fitter.

Autumn

T. Belozerov
Autumn,
autumn...
Sun
Damp in the clouds -
Shines even at noon
Dull and timid.
From the cold grove
In field,
on the path
The hare blew -
the first
Snowflake.

Autumn

I. Vinokurov
Autumn is coming
In our park
Gives autumn
Gifts for all:
Red beads -
Rowan,
Pink apron -
aspen,
Umbrella yellow -
poplars,
Fruits autumn
Gives us.

Autumn

I. Maznin
Every day, the wind is sharper
Tearing leaves from the branches in the forest ...
Whatever the day - then earlier the evening,
And it dawns late.
The sun lingers, as if
No power to rise...
That's why the morning rises above the earth
Almost noon.

autumn

A. Efimtsev
In the crane sky
The wind carries clouds.
The willow whispers to the willow:
"Autumn. Autumn again!
Leaves yellow downpour,
The sun is below the pines.
Willow whispers:
"Autumn. Autumn soon!"
Frost on the shrub
White cry sketched.
The oak whispers to the mountain ash:
"Autumn. Autumn soon!"
Fir trees whisper
In the middle of the forest:
"Soon will notice
And it will curl up soon!

A fox passed under a bush
And burned the leaves
tail.
Fire climbed the branches
And blazed
Autumn forest.
N. Krasilnikov

Gathered and flew

E. Golovin
Gathered and flew
Ducks on a long journey.
Under the roots of an old spruce
The bear is making a lair.
The hare dressed in white fur,
The bunny got warm.
Wears a squirrel for a whole month
For reserve mushrooms in the hollow.
The wolves roam the dark night
For prey in the forests.
Between the bushes to the sleepy grouse
The fox is escaping.
Hides a nutcracker for the winter
In the old moss nuts cleverly.
Capercaillie pinch needles.
They came to us for the winter
Northerners-bullfinches.

swans flew away

V. Prikhodko
swans flew away
From North to South.
Lost swans
White-white fluff.
Is it swan fluff
Shines in the air
Whether through our windows
First snow
Flies.

harvest festival

Tatyana Bokova

Autumn decorates the squares
Multicolored foliage.
Autumn feeds the harvest
Birds, animals and you and me.
And in the gardens, and in the garden,
Both in the forest and by the water.
Prepared by nature
All kinds of fruits.
The fields are being cleaned
People collect bread.
The mouse drags the grain into the mink,
To have lunch in winter.
Root squirrels dry,
bees store honey.
Grandma cooks jam
He puts apples in the cellar.
Harvest is born -
Collect the gifts of nature!
In the cold, in the cold, in bad weather
The harvest will come in handy!

October

Berestov V.D.

Here is a maple leaf on a branch.
It looks like new now!
All ruddy, golden.
Where are you, leaf? Wait!

Sad time! Oh charm!

Alexander Pushkin

Sad time! Oh charm!
Your farewell beauty is pleasant to me -
I love the magnificent nature of wilting,
Forests clad in crimson and gold,
In their canopy of the wind noise and fresh breath,
And the heavens are covered with mist,
And a rare ray of sun, and the first frosts,
And distant gray winter threats.

Autumn

Alexey Pleshcheev

Autumn has come
dried flowers,
And they look sad
Bare bushes.

Withers and turns yellow
Grass in the meadows
Only turns green
Winter in the fields.

A cloud covers the sky
The sun doesn't shine
The wind howls in the field
The rain is pouring...

Noisy water
fast stream,
The birds have flown away
To warm climes.

Colored autumn

S. Marshak

Colored autumn - evening of the year -
I smile lightly.
But between me and nature
There was thin glass.

This whole world is at a glance,
But I can't go back.
I'm still with you, but in the car,
I'm still at home, but on the road.

There is in the autumn of the original ...

Fedor Tyutchev

Is in the autumn of the original
Short but wonderful time -
The whole day stands as if crystal,
And radiant evenings ...
The air is empty, the birds are no longer heard,
But far from the first winter storms
And pure and warm azure pours
To the resting field...

The fields are compressed, the groves are bare...

Sergey Yesenin

The fields are compressed, the groves are bare,
Fog and damp from the water.
Wheel behind the blue mountains
The sun went down quietly.
The blasted road is slumbering.
She dreamed today
What is very, very little
It remains to wait for the gray winter ...

Before the rain

Nikolai Nekrasov

A mournful wind drives
I flock to the edge of heaven.
Broken spruce groans,
The dark forest whispers dully.
On the stream, pockmarked and motley,
A leaf flies after a leaf,
And a stream, dry and sharp;
The cold is coming.
Twilight falls on everything,
Flying from all sides,
Whirling in the air with a cry
A flock of jackdaws and crows...

Autumn

Konstantin Balmont

Cowberry ripens
The days got colder
And from the bird's cry
My heart got sadder.

Flocks of birds fly away
Away, beyond the blue sea.
All the trees are shining
In multi-colored attire.

The sun laughs less
There is no incense in the flowers.
Autumn will wake up soon
And cry awake.

leaf fall

Ivan Bunin

Forest, like a painted tower,
Purple, gold, crimson,
Cheerful, colorful wall
It stands over a bright meadow.

Birches with yellow carving
Shine in blue azure,
Like towers, Christmas trees darken,
And between the maples they turn blue
Here and there in the foliage through
Clearances in the sky, that windows.
The forest smells of oak and pine,
During the summer it dried up from the sun,
And Autumn is a quiet widow
He enters his motley tower ...

autumn

Athanasius Fet

When the through web
Spreads the threads of clear days
And under the villager's window
The distant bells and whistles are heard

We are not sad, afraid again
Breath of near winter,
And the voice of the summer lived
We understand more clearly.

gold autumn

Boris Pasternak

Autumn. Fairy tale,
All open for review.
clearings of forest roads,
Looking into the lakes

Like in an art exhibition:
Halls, halls, halls, halls
Elm, ash, aspen
Unprecedented in gilding.

Linden hoop gold -
Like a crown on a newlywed.
Birch face - under the veil
Wedding and transparent.

buried earth
Under foliage in ditches, pits.
In the yellow maples of the wing,
As if in gilded frames.

Where are the trees in September
At dawn they stand in pairs,
And sunset on their bark
Leaves an amber trail.

Where you can not step into the ravine,
So that everyone does not know:
So raging that not a step
A tree leaf underfoot.

Where it sounds at the end of the alleys
Echoes at the steep slope
And dawn cherry glue
Freezes in the form of a clot.

Autumn. ancient corner
Old books, clothes, weapons,
Where is the treasure catalog
Flips through the cold.

Autumn

Ivan Demyanov

On a bush-bush -
yellow leaves,
A cloud hangs in the blue -
So it's time for autumn!

In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag.
Our autumn park has become stricter.
All covered in bronze!

Autumn seems to me too
Getting ready for October...
In the red leaves of the bank.
Each leaf is like a flag!

Raindrops are flying

Ivan Demyanov

Flying, raindrops are flying
You won't leave the gate.
Along the wet path
Raw fog creeps.

By the fallen pines
And fiery rowans
Autumn comes and sows
Fragrant mushrooms!

Autumn

Novitskaya G.M.

I walk, I'm sad alone:
Autumn is around.
Yellow leaf in the river
summer is gone. I throw him a circle
your last wreath.
Only summer can not be saved
if the day is autumn.

Autumn

Tokmakova I.P.

Empty birdhouse -
The birds have flown
Leaves on the trees
It also doesn't fit.
All day today
Everything is flying, flying...
Apparently, also in Africa
They want to fly.

Autumn in the forest

From A. Gontar (translated by V. Berestov)

Autumn forest every year
Pays gold to enter.
Look at the aspen -
All dressed in gold
And she babbles:
"Stenu..." -
And shivering from the cold.
And the birch is happy
Yellow outfit:
“Well, the dress!
What a delight!”
Leaves quickly scattered
The frost came suddenly.
And the birch whispers:
"I'll chill! .."
Lost weight at the oak
Gilded coat.
The oak caught on, but it's too late
And he roars:
"I'm freezing! I'm freezing!"
Deceived gold -
Didn't save me from the cold.

leaf fall

Y. Korinets

Leaves flutter in the air
All Moscow is in yellow leaves.
We are sitting at the window
And we look outside.
Leaves whisper: - Let's fly away! —
and dive into the puddle.

autumn treasure

I. Pivovarova

Yellow coins fall from a branch ...
There's a treasure under your feet!
This autumn is golden
Gives leaves without counting
Gives golden leaves
To you and to us
And everyone in a row.

Autumn leaves

I. Tokmakova

The birdhouse was empty, the birds flew away,
The leaves on the trees also do not sit
The whole day today everything is flying, flying ...
Apparently, they also want to fly to Africa.

Autumn

L. Tatyanicheva

Slow down, autumn, don't rush
Unwind your rains
Spread your fogs
on the rough river surface.

Slow down, autumn, show me
I turn yellow leaves,
Let me make sure, don't rush
How fresh is your silence

And how bottomless the sky is blue
Over the hot flame of aspens...

A.S. Pushkin

October has already come - the grove is already shaking off
The last leaves from their naked branches;
The autumn chill has died - the road freezes through.
The murmuring stream still runs behind the mill,

But the pond was already frozen; my neighbor is in a hurry
In the departing fields with his hunting,
And they suffer winter from mad fun,
And the barking of dogs wakes the sleeping oak forests.

Ludmila Kuznetsova
Plums fall in the garden
A noble treat for wasps…
Yellow leaf bathed in the pond
And welcomes early autumn.

He pretended to be a ship
The wind of wandering shook him.
So we'll follow him
To piers unknown in life.

And we already know by heart:
In a year there will be a new summer.
Why the universal sadness
In every line in the poetry of poets?

Is it because the traces on the dew
Will the showers wash away and the winters get cold?
Is it because the moments are all
Fleeting and unique?

A. S. Pushkin

Already the sky was breathing in autumn,
The sun shone less
The day was getting shorter
Forests mysterious canopy
She stripped naked with a sad noise.
Fog fell on the fields
Noisy geese caravan
Stretched to the south: approaching
Pretty boring time;
November was already at the yard.

Glorious autumn

ON THE. Nekrasov

Glorious autumn! Healthy, vigorous
The air invigorates tired forces;
The ice is fragile on the icy river
As if melting sugar lies;

Near the forest, as in a soft bed,
You can sleep - peace and space!
The leaves have not faded yet,
Yellow and fresh lie like a carpet.

Glorious autumn! frosty nights,
Clear, quiet days...
There is no ugliness in nature! And kochi
And moss swamps, and stumps -

All is well under the moonlight
Everywhere I recognize my dear Russia ...
I quickly fly along cast-iron rails,
I think my mind...

The swallows are gone...

A.A. Fet

The swallows are gone
And yesterday dawn
All the rooks flew
Yes, like a network, flickered
Over that mountain.

In the evening everyone sleeps
It's dark outside.
The leaf falls dry
At night the wind is angry
Yes, knock on the window.

It would be better if snow and blizzard
Happy to meet you!
As if in fear
Shouting out to the south
The cranes are flying.

You will leave - involuntarily
It's hard - even cry!
Look across the field
Tumbleweed
Jumps like a ball.

"Indian summer"

D.B. Kedrin

Indian summer has come -
Days of farewell warmth.
Warmed by the late sun
The fly came to life in the crack.

Sun! What in the world is more beautiful
After a chilly day?
Gossamer light yarn
Wrapped around a knot.

Tomorrow it will rain fast,
A cloud covering the sun.
Silver gossamer
There are two or three days left.

Have pity, autumn! Give us light!
Protect from winter darkness!
Have pity on us, Indian summer:
These cobwebs are us.