Bye-bye-bye...

Sleep, Alyonushka, sleep, beauty, and dad will tell fairy tales. It seems that everything is here: the Siberian cat Vaska, and the shaggy village dog Postoiko, and the gray Mouse-louse, and the Cricket behind the stove, and the motley Starling in a cage, and the bully Rooster.

Sleep, Alyonushka, now the fairy tale begins. The tall moon is already looking out the window; there a slanting hare hobbled on his felt boots; the wolf's eyes glowed with yellow lights; bear Teddy bear sucks his paw. The old Sparrow flew up to the very window, knocks his nose on the glass and asks: soon? Everyone is here, everyone is assembled, and everyone is waiting for Alyonushka's fairy tale.

One eye at Alyonushka is sleeping, the other is looking; one ear of Alyonushka is sleeping, the other is listening.

Bye-bye-bye...

A bunny was born in the forest and was afraid of everything. A twig cracks somewhere, a bird flutters, a lump of snow falls from a tree - a bunny has a soul in its heels.

The bunny was afraid for a day, afraid for two, afraid for a week, afraid for a year; and then he grew big, and suddenly he got tired of being afraid.

- I'm not afraid of anyone! he shouted to the whole forest. - I'm not afraid at all, and that's it!

Old hares gathered, little hares ran, old hares dragged in - everyone listens to the Hare boasting - long ears, slanting eyes, short tail - they listen and do not believe their own ears. It was not yet that the hare was not afraid of anyone.

- Hey you, slanting eye, are you not afraid of the wolf?

- And I'm not afraid of the wolf, and the fox, and the bear - I'm not afraid of anyone!

It turned out to be quite funny. The young hares giggled, covering their muzzles with their front paws, the good old hares laughed, even the old hares, who had been in the paws of a fox and tasted wolf teeth, smiled. A very funny hare! .. Oh, what a funny one! And all of a sudden it became fun. They began to tumble, jump, jump, overtake each other, as if everyone had gone crazy.

- Yes, what is there to say for a long time! - shouted the Hare, finally emboldened. - If I come across a wolf, I will eat it myself ...

- Oh, what a funny Hare! Oh how stupid he is!

Everyone sees that he is both funny and stupid, and everyone laughs.

Hares scream about the wolf, and the wolf is right there.

He walked, walked in the forest on his wolf business, got hungry and only thought: “It would be nice to have a bite of a bunny!” - as he hears that somewhere very close the hares are screaming and he, the gray Wolf, is commemorated. Now he stopped, sniffed the air and began to creep up.

The wolf came very close to the hares playing out, hears how they laugh at him, and most of all - the braggart Hare - slanting eyes, long ears, short tail.

“Hey, brother, wait, I’ll eat you!” - thought the gray Wolf and began to look out, which hare boasts of his courage. And the hares see nothing and have more fun than before. It ended with the bouncer Hare climbing onto a stump, sitting on his hind legs and talking:

“Listen, you cowards! Listen and look at me! Now I'll show you one thing. I... I... I...

Here the tongue of the bouncer is definitely frozen.

The Hare saw the Wolf looking at him. Others did not see, but he saw and did not dare to die.

The bouncer hare jumped up like a ball, and with fear fell right on the wolf’s wide forehead, rolled head over heels on the wolf’s back, rolled over again in the air and then asked such a rattle that, it seems, he was ready to jump out of his own skin.

The unfortunate Bunny ran for a long time, ran until he was completely exhausted.

It seemed to him that the Wolf was chasing on his heels and was about to grab him with his teeth.

Finally, the poor man gave way, closed his eyes and fell dead under a bush.

And the Wolf at this time ran in the other direction. When the Hare fell on him, it seemed to him that someone had shot at him.

And the wolf ran away. You never know other hares can be found in the forest, but this one was kind of rabid ...

For a long time the rest of the hares could not come to their senses. Who fled into the bushes, who hid behind a stump, who fell into a hole.

Finally everyone got tired of hiding, and little by little they began to look out who was braver.

- And our Hare cleverly scared the Wolf! – decided everything. - If not for him, we would not have left alive ... But where is he, our fearless Hare? ..

We started looking.

They walked and walked, there is no brave Hare anywhere. Has another wolf eaten him? Finally found: lying in a hole under a bush and barely alive from fear.

- Well done, oblique! - shouted all the hares in one voice. - Oh yes, oblique! .. You are clever scared old wolf. Thank you brother! And we thought you were bragging.

The brave Hare immediately cheered up. He got out of his hole, shook himself, screwed up his eyes and said:

– What would you think! Oh you cowards...

From that day on, the brave Hare began to believe himself that he was really not afraid of anyone.

Bye-bye-bye...

No one has seen how Kozyavochka was born.

It was a sunny spring day. The goat looked around and said:

- Fine!..

Kozyavochka straightened her wings, rubbed her thin legs one against the other, looked around again and said:

- How good! .. What a warm sun, what a blue sky, what green grass - good, good! .. And all mine! ..

Kozyavochka also rubbed her legs and flew away. It flies, admires everything and rejoices. And below the grass is turning green, and a scarlet flower hid in the grass.

- Goat, come to me! - shouted the flower.

The little goat descended to the ground, climbed onto the flower and began to drink the sweet flower juice.

- What a kind flower you are! - says Kozyavochka, wiping her stigma with her legs.

“Good, kind, but I don’t know how to walk,” the flower complained.

“All the same, it’s good,” the Kozyavochka assured. And all my...

She hasn't had time yet to finish, as a shaggy Bumblebee flew with a buzz - and straight to the flower:

– Zhzh... Who climbed into my flower? Lj... who drinks my sweet juice? Zhzh... Oh, you wretched Kozyavka, get out! Zhzhzh... Get out before I sting you!

- Excuse me, what is this? squeaked the Kozyavochka. All, all mine...

– Zhzhzh... No, mine!

The goat barely flew away from the angry Bumblebee. She sat down on the grass, licked her feet, stained with flower juice, and got angry:

- What a rude this Bumblebee! .. Even surprising! .. I also wanted to sting ... After all, everything is mine - and the sun, and grass, and flowers.

- No, sorry - mine! - said the shaggy Worm, climbing up the stalk of grass.

Kozyavochka realized that Little Worm could not fly, and spoke more boldly:

- Excuse me, Little Worm, you are mistaken ... I do not interfere with your crawling, but do not argue with me! ..

– Okay, okay... Just don't touch my weed. I don’t like it, I confess to say ... You never know how many of you fly here ... You are a frivolous people, and I am a serious worm ... Frankly speaking, everything belongs to me. Here I will crawl on the grass and eat it, I will crawl on any flower and also eat it. Goodbye!..

In a few hours Kozyavochka learned absolutely everything, namely: that, besides the sun, the blue sky, and the green grass, there were also angry bumblebees, serious worms, and various thorns on the flowers. In a word, it was a big disappointment. The goat was even offended. For mercy, she was sure that everything belongs to her and was created for her, but here others think the same. No, something is wrong... It can't be.

- It's mine! she squeaked cheerfully. - My water ... Oh, how fun! .. There is grass and flowers.

And other goats are flying towards Kozyavochka.

- Hello, sister!

– Hello, my dears... Otherwise, I got bored of flying alone. What are you doing here?

In every word and turnover, it is not difficult for us to feel a special manner of storytelling. The stable habit of the storyteller is noticeable and clearly and firmly determines his attitude to everything that comes up. The narrator himself knew well the languor of a long, hungry autumn night and how little the cold dawn brings joy. This feeling was expressed in a fairy tale, as it was expressed in another folk work - in a song about a dreary autumn night “Oh, you are a night, a dark night, an autumn night ...”. Almost imperceptibly, bit by bit, in the style and meaning of fairy tales, their speech originality is shaded, but in the end it creates the impression of folk originality of fairy tales.

Fairy tales, in comparison with fairy tales about animals, open before us a world of other miracles. What you don't know about fairy tales! The miracle begins with a saying: “It was a case at sea, on the ocean, on the island of Kidan there is a tree - golden domes: the cat Bayun walks along this tree; he goes up - he sings a song, and he goes down - he tells fairy tales ... This is not a fairy tale, but also a saying goes, and the whole fairy tale is ahead. A skilled storyteller from the very beginning promises an entertaining story. When storytellers do without saying, they find another way to immediately interest listeners. Fairy tales almost invariably begin with an intriguing opening: “In a certain kingdom, in a certain state, there lived an old man and an old woman ...” or: “Far distant lands, in a faraway state, there lived a king and queen ...”

Thus begins the tale of the seven Simeons. The king took to his service seven brothers, seven twins. They all have the same name - all Simeons and such daring ones that there are no equals. One of the brothers forged an iron pillar of twenty fathoms (and each fathom is the distance from the fingertips of one hand to the fingertips of the other), the second brother lifted the pillar and dug it into the ground, the third climbed onto the pillar - sat at the very top and saw, “how and what is happening in the wide world, ”I saw the blue seas and how ships were dying in spots on them, I saw villages, cities, I even saw a beautiful princess in a distant chamber. The fourth brother built a ship, but not a simple one - he walks on the sea, "as if on dry land." The fifth managed to successfully trade various goods in foreign lands, the sixth was able to dive into the sea with the ship, people and goods, swim under water and emerge where necessary, and the last, seventh brother managed to lure a wonderful princess onto the ship. The skill and prowess of all seven came in handy - the brothers took the princess away and left the chase. Cheerful, full of incredible adventures, a fairy tale is an outright fiction. Therefore, at the end of the tale, the storyteller gave vent to a mockery: “I had a nag, wax shoulders, a pea whip. I see: the peasant's barn is on fire; I put the nag, went to pour the barn. While the barn was pouring, the nag melted, the crows pecked at the whip. There is no doubt that the fairy tale is a joke. Nevertheless, the fairy tale captivates with the dream of the unlimited possibilities of man.

In fairy tales it is often difficult to tell when the storyteller is joking and when he is serious. It happens that the storyteller remains serious even when he tells about the most incredible. For the bridge laid across the swamp, which made the path short, some elders thanked the good fellow - they taught him to turn into a fast deer, a hare and a bird. The skill was useful to Semyon (that was the name of the young man), but the Negro turned out to be an enemy - a crafty and cruel general. Semyon ran faster than the wind in order to bring the sword forgotten in the palace to the king in time, and the general appropriated the feat for himself, and pushed Semyon into the sea. The storyteller tells about the misadventures of a young man - there is not even a shadow of a joke or ridicule.

Semyon lives in the depths of the sea, he is bored, bitter, the sea king asks:

What, Semyon - a small youngster, are you bored here?

Boring, your majesty!

Do you want to Russian world?

Tsar Semyon brings Semyon twice at midnight to the shore and before sunrise takes him back to the sea. After returning back, the young man becomes even more bitter. For the third time, when the sea king brought him ashore, the young man said in despair:

The sun, show yourself, red, show yourself!

And a miracle happened. Before the time, the sun shone on the young man - the sea king could not carry him to the bottom. Simon returned home.

The idea of ​​a person's attachment to his native land is conveyed in a fairy tale with noticeable excitement. The homeland is that sweet limit to which the hero strives with all his thoughts. In general, no matter what luck and happiness life promises in far-off lands, the heroes of fairy tales cannot imagine their existence without a homeland.

Fairy tales do not know irreparable misfortunes. They invariably put the heroes in the position of winners, make the listeners rejoice when the monster is thrown into the dust, and the villain is punished. The people who created fantastic stories dreamed of the triumph of justice, of happiness. Despite the intrigues of the evil stepmother and her evil-minded daughters, Khavroshechka becomes happy, the old man's daughter from the fairy tale "Frost" gets rid of death and returns home with gifts.

Not a single human offense remains unavenged, inconsolable grief in fairy tales can be dispelled, misfortune can be corrected. This is what they put together for the sake of magical, full of incredible miracles of history.

In another tale, according to Anatoly Vasilyevich Lunacharsky, "the truth is heard." This is the truth of the aspirations and expectations of ordinary people reflected in fairy tales. Every fairy tale has its own truth - in the stories of Ivan Tsarevich, Marya Morevna, Finist the clear falcon, Ivan the merchant's son, Bulat the young man, the Frog Princess, Khavroshechka, Alyonushka, the good Martinka from the fairy tale "The Magic Ring" and other heroes fairy tales.

Often in fairy tales, a despised and humiliated person is granted prosperity and high dignity. Storytellers dress up peasant sons in the clothes of kings, make them rulers, whom everyone loves with unfeigned love for justice and kindness. It is a dream of happiness and freedom of the common man.

The serious meaning of some fairy tales gave grounds for judgments on the most important issues of life. While in exile, far from Russia, Alexander Herzen wrote the article "The Russian people and socialism." It was published on French. The great Russian revolutionary spoke about the freedom-loving aspirations and struggle of the Russian people against arbitrariness and oppression. Herzen recalled a fairy tale about a slandered wife: “A very common fairy tale in Russia says that the tsar, suspecting his wife of infidelity, locked her and her son in a barrel, then ordered the barrel to be pitched and thrown into the sea.

For many years the barrel floated on the sea.

Meanwhile, the prince grew by leaps and bounds, and already began to rest his feet and head against the bottom of the barrels. Every day it got tighter and tighter. One day he said to his mother:

Mother Empress, let me stretch out to my heart's content.

My little tsarevich, - answered the mother, - do not reach out. The barrel will burst, and you will drown in salt water.

The prince fell silent and, after thinking, said:

Reach out, mother; it’s better to stretch out once and die ...

In this tale, dear sir, - Herzen finished his article, referring to one of the leaders of the revolutionary movement in Europe, - our whole history.

Whatever the story is about, the storytellers tell as if they themselves were witnesses of the events. The lively picturesqueness of fairy tales captures the imagination. Ivan came - a peasant son to the Smorodina River. It's midnight. The damp earth shook, the water in the river stirred, violent winds blew, the eagles screamed on the oaks. This is a twelve-headed miracle-yudo. All heads are whistling, all twelve are bursting with fire. The miracle horse has twelve wings, the horse has copper hair, an iron tail and mane. How can you not be scared, but Ivan, the peasant son, defeated the monster.

» » Saying

Without a saying, a fairy tale is like a sled without skids.
A fairy tale begins, a fable begins - a kind fairy tale, a long story, not from a sivka, not from a cloak, not from a prophetic kaurka, not from a valiant whistle, not from a woman's cry.
What a marvel - so marvelous! On the sea, on the ocean, on the island of Buyan, there is a tree - golden domes. The cat Bayun walks along this tree: he goes up - he starts a song, he goes down - he tells fairy tales.

There were two huts, murved stoves, black sable ceilings, twelve heroes lived here.
Yermaks sat - high caps, Ermoshki sat - long legs.
There was a chiseled, gilded pillar, on the pillar there was a bird - a blue tit, red feathers.
An owl flew - a cheerful head. So she flew, flew and sat down, and turned her tail, but looked around and flew again; flew, flew and sat down, turned her tail, but looked around and flew again, flew, flew ...
It was far from us - not to be seen, but only to be heard from the old people.
In a faraway kingdom, in a faraway state, the snow burned, they extinguished it with straw, they crushed a lot of people, but they didn’t solve things.
The king lived on the kingdom like cheese on a tablecloth.
The rivers flowed with milk, the banks were jelly, and fried partridges flew across the fields.
A mosquito and a fly were torn apart. A mosquito has bitten a fly, and a fly has bitten a horsefly, and a horsefly has bitten a hornet, and a hornet has bitten a sparrow. And then the battle began - do not spill the fighters with water.
This is not yet a fairy tale, but a saying, a fairy tale is all ahead.

Sayings

The tale starts from the beginning, reads to the end, does not interrupt the middle.
Chur, do not interrupt my fairy tale; and whoever kills her will not live for three days (a snake will crawl into his throat).
On the ocean, on the island of Buyan.
This is a saying - not a fairy tale, a fairy tale will come.
Soon the fairy tale tells, but not soon the deed is done.
In a certain kingdom, in a certain state.
In the thirtieth kingdom.
For distant lands, in the thirtieth state.
Under the dark forests, under the walking clouds, under the frequent stars, under the red sun.
Sivka-burka, prophetic kaurka, stand in front of me like a leaf in front of grass!
A frying pan from the nostrils, steam (smoke) from the ears.
It breathes fire, it blazes with fire.
The tail covers the trail, lets valleys and mountains between the legs.
With a valiant whistle, a column of dust.
The horse beats with a hoof, gnaws at the bit.
Quieter than water, lower than grass. You can hear the grass growing.
It grows by leaps and bounds, like wheat dough on dough sour.
The moon was bright on the forehead, stars were frequent in the back of the head.
The horse is running, the earth is trembling, the frying pan is bursting from the ears, the smoke is pouring out of the nostrils (or: the frying pan from the nostrils, the smoke from the nostrils).
Elbow-deep in red gold, knee-deep in pure silver.
It is clothed with heaven, girded with dawns, fastened with stars.
The duck quacked, the shores tinkled, the sea shook, the water stirred.
Hut, hut on chicken legs, turn your back to the forest, your front to me!
Stand, white birch, behind me, and the red maiden is in front!
Stand before me like a leaf before grass!
Clear, clear in the sky, freeze, freeze, wolf tail.
Not in words (not in a fairy tale) to say, not to describe with a pen.
A word is not thrown out of a fairy tale (from a song).
Not for reality and a fairy tale chases.
The tit bird flew to distant lands, to si: the sea-okian, to the kingdom of thirty, to the distant state.
The shores are jelly, the rivers are satisfying (milk).
On a field-clearing, on a high mound.
In an open field, in a wide expanse, behind dark forests, behind green meadows, behind fast rivers, steep banks.
Under a bright moon, under white clouds, and frequent stars, etc.

On the sea, on the ocean, on an island on a buoy, there is a baked bull: crushed garlic in the back, cut it from one side, and eat it from the other.
On the sea, on the ocean, on the island on the buoy lies the white combustible stone alatyr.
Is it close, is it far, is it low, is it high.
Not a gray eagle, not a clear falcon rises ...
Not a white (gray) swan swam out ...
Not white snows in the open field turned white... |
The dense forests are not black, they turn black ...
What is not dust, the field rises ...
It’s not a gray-gray fog from the expanse that toils ...
He whistled, barked, with a valiant whistle, a heroic cry.
You will go to the right (along the road) - you will lose your horse; to the left you will go to live not to be.
Until now, the Russian spirit has never been heard of, has not been seen in sight, but now the Russian spirit is in the eye.
They took them for white hands, they sat them at white-oak tables, for tablecloths, for sugar dishes, for honey drinks.
Miracle Yudo, Mosalskaya lip.
To get dead and living water.
Baba Yaga, a bone leg, rides in a mortar, rests with a pestle, sweeps the trail with a broom.

I was there, drinking beer; beer flowed down his mustache, but it didn’t get into his mouth.
They began to live to live, and now they live, they chew bread.
They began to live to live, to gain mind, and dashing to get rid of.
I myself was there, I drank honey and beer, it flowed down my mustache, it didn’t hit, my soul became drunk and satisfying.
Here's a fairy tale for you, and I knit bagels.
Once upon a time there was a king of oats, he took away all the fairy tales.
I was there, slurping an ear together, it flowed down my mustache, but it didn’t get into my mouth.
He began to live in the old way, dashing not to know.
Beluzhins served - remained without supper.
He began to live and visit, to chew bread.
When it fills (doskachet, live), then I will say more, but for now there is no urine.
I was at that feast, I drank honey-wine, it flowed down my mustache, but it didn’t get into my mouth; here they treated me: they took away the pelvis from the bull and poured milk; then they gave a roll, helping in the same pelvis. I didn’t drink, I didn’t eat, I decided to wipe myself off, they began to fight with me; I put on a cap, they began to push in the neck!
I dined there. he drank honey, and what cabbage was - now the company is empty.
Here's a fairy tale for you, and a bunch of bagels for me.

Form start

Crane and heron

Russian folktale

An owl flew - a cheerful head. So she flew, flew and sat down, and turned her tail, but looked around and flew again - flew, flew and sat down, turned her tail and looked around and flew again - flew, flew ...

This is a saying, and this is what a fairy tale is. Once upon a time there lived a crane and a heron in the swamp. They built themselves at the ends of the hut.

The crane became bored of living alone, and he decided to marry.

Let me go woo a heron!

The crane went, - tyap-tyap! - kneaded the swamp for seven miles.

Comes and says:

Is the heron at home?

Marry me!

No, crane, I won’t marry you: your legs are in debt, your dress is short, you fly badly yourself, and you have nothing to feed me with! Go away, lanky!

The crane went home without salty slurping. The heron then thought about it:

"Than to live alone, I'd rather marry a crane."

Comes to the crane and says:

Crane, marry me!

No, heron, I don't need you! I don't want to marry, I won't marry you. Get out.

The heron wept with shame and returned home. The heron left, and the crane thought:

"In vain did not take a heron for himself! After all, one is bored."

Comes and says:

Heron! I decided to marry you, marry me!

No, crane, I will not marry you!

The crane went home. Here the heron thought:

"Why did you refuse? What's the point of living alone? I'd better go for a crane."

She comes to woo, but the crane does not want to. That's how they go to this day to woo each other, but they never get married.

About the fairy tale

Russian folk tale "Saying"

What are the benefits of fairy tales invented by the wise Russian people? Despite the apparent simplicity of the plots, each work is filled with great meaning. And what a miracle of sayings, which are full of the content of fairy tales.

The great Russian literary critic V.G. Belinsky believed that folk tales show not only the life of the people, but also their inquisitive, crafty mind, as well as concepts of morality.

No matter how different the plots and characters of Russian folk tales were, they all reflected the life of a poor, but proud people. And they served not only as entertainment on long winter evenings.

Each fairy tale, no matter what it tells, tells about the history of a great people, introduces its culture, presents the beauty and originality of the Russian language in the form of sayings, songs and sayings.

No wonder the great Russian poet A.S. Pushkin encouraged young authors to read and study folk tales in order to comprehend all the beauty and possibilities of the Russian language through them.

What words does the people find and use to tell about their hard lot, about love for their native land, about the glorious and brave heroes of the Russian land, about what trials fell on the Russian land, and what role did the people play in the time of trials?

For this reason, sayings were used in folk art to enhance the effect of the story. Talking about the life of the rich, such comparisons are allowed: “like cheese on a tablecloth” or “like cheese in butter”.

If palaces, towers, trees are described, then in order to show their beauty, the epithet “gilded domes” is used. And the “blue tit bird, red feathers”? Why do titmouse have red feathers? Yes, because they are beautiful!

The people express their attitude to the environment as follows: “the girl is beautiful”, “the sun is red”, “good fellow”. As the proverb says: “The hut is not red with corners, but red with pies,” so in Russian fairy tales, everything that is dear to the Russian heart is “red”.

Read the Russian folk tale "Priskazka" online for free and without registration.

Without saying a fairy tale - what is a sled without skids.

A fairy tale begins, a fable begins - a kind fairy tale, a long story, not from a sivka, not from a cloak, not from a prophetic kaurka, not from a valiant whistle, not from a woman's cry.

What a marvel - so marvelous! On the sea, on the ocean, on the island of Buyan, there is a tree - golden domes. The cat Bayun walks along this tree: it goes up - it starts a song, it goes down - it tells fairy tales.

There were two huts, murved stoves, black sable ceilings, twelve heroes lived here.

Yermaks sat - high caps, Ermoshki sat - long legs.

There was a chiseled, gilded pillar, on the pillar there was a bird - a blue tit, red feathers.

An owl flew - a cheerful head. So she flew, flew and sat down, and turned her tail, but looked around and flew again; flew, flew and sat down, turned her tail, but looked around and flew again, flew, flew ...