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Конкурс 2013 (7-8 кл)
АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:42 | Сообщение # 1
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1



WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 2
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2



Автор Robert Louis Stevenson

Good And Bad Children

Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle;
If you would grow great and stately,
You must try to walk sedately.

You must still be bright and quiet,
And content with simple diet;
And remain, through all bewild'ring,
Innocent and honest children.

Happy hearts and happy faces,
Happy play in grassy places—
That was how in ancient ages,
Children grew to kings and sages.

But the unkind and the unruly,
And the sort who eat unduly,
They must never hope for glory—
Theirs is quite a different story!

Cruel children, crying babies,
All grow up as geese and gabies,
Hated, as their age increases,
By their nephews and their nieces.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 3
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3



COME IN

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music-hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.
The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.
Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went-
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.
But no, I was out for stars:
I would not come in.
1 meant not even if asked,
And I hadn't been.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 4
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4



Автор: Belle

Moonlight Drive

Just after midnight
When closing my eyes
Cuddling close to you
For a moonlight drive

Iridescent moon beams
Shine on objects below
Casting shadow silhouettes
Luminescent silvery glow

Crickets sing a lullaby
That echo through the night
Gentle breeze is blowing
Everything feels so right

Stars twinkling a rhythm
In time with the radio
Just the two of us together
Enjoying nature's show

Nothing is more beautiful
Makes me feel more alive
Then cuddling up to you
For a moonlight drive


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 5
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WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL

When i was a little girl,
About seven years old,
I hadn`t got a petticoat,
To keep me from the cold,

So i went to Darlington,
That pretty little town,
And there i bought a petticoat,
A cloak and a gown.

I went into the woods
And built me a kirk,
And all of the birds of the air,
They helped me to work.

The hawk ,with his long claws,
Pulled down the stone,
The dove ,with her rough bill,
Brought me them home.

The parrot was the clergy man,
The peacock was the clerk,
The bulfinch played the organ,
And we made merry work.

From Mother Goose Rhymes


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 6
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6



Michael Jackson
«Planet Earth»
Planet Earth, my home, my place
A capricious anomaly in the sea of space
Planet Earth are you just
Floating by, a cloud of dust
A minor globe, about to bust
A piece of metal bound to rust
A speck of matter in a mindless void
A lonely spaceship, a large asteroid
Cold as a rock without a hue
Held together with a bit of glue
Something tells me this isn't true
You are my sweetheart soft and blue
Do you care, have you a part
In the deepest emotions of my own heart
Tender with breezes caressing and whole
Alive with music, haunting my soul.
In my veins I've felt the mystery
Of corridors of time, books of history
Life songs of ages throbbing in my blood
Have danced the rhythm of the tide and flood.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 7
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Punctuality

Man Naturally loves delay,
And to procrastinate;
Business put off from day to day
Is always done to late.

Let ever hour be in its place
Firm fixed, nor loosely shift,
And well enjoy the vacant space,
As though a birthday gift.

And when the hour arrives, be there,
Where'er that "there" may be;
Uncleanly hands or ruffled hair
Let no one ever see.

If dinner at "half-past" be placed,
At "half-past" then be dressed.
If at a "quarter-past" make haste
To be down with the rest

Better to be before you time,
Than e're to be behind;
To open the door while strikes the chime,
That shows a punctual mind


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 8
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8



Grammar Rhymes

A noun is the name of anything
As school, garden or king
Adjectives tell the kind of noun
As great, small, pretty, white or brown.

Instead of nouns the pronoun is,
As mine, yours, our and his.
Verbs tell of something being done-
To read, count, laugh, carry or run.

How things are done the adverbs tell
As slowly, quickly, ill or well.
Conjunctions join the words together
As men and women, wind and weather.

The prepositions stands before
A noun as in or through a door.
The interjection shows surprise,
As – oh! How pretty! Oh! How wise!

Three little words you often see
Are articles – A, an, and the.
The whole are called part of speech
Witch reading, writing, speaking teach.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 9
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9



Rudyard Kipling

Six serving men

I Keep six honest serving-men:
(They taught me all I knew)
Their names are What and Where and When
And How and Why and Who
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
I let them rest from nine till five.
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men:
But different folk have different views:
I know a person small -
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
She sends them abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes -
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 10
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10



Emily Jane Brontë

HOPE

Hope was but a timing friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tent,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

Are was cruel in her fear;
Trought the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard, fals watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping,
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 11
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11



Sergey Yesenin
Translated from the Russian
By Alec Vagapov

I’m back at home. My dear land
Is pensive, spreading all around!
The twilight waves its snow-white hand
To greet me from beyond the mound.

The grizzle of the gloomy day
Is floating by over my home, and
The evening fills me with dismay
Like insurmountable torment.

Above the church, over the dome,
The sunset shade has fallen down.
My dear friends, I’m back at home,
And won’t be seeing you around.

The years have flown like a whirl,
And where are you, my friends, I wonder?
All I can hear is the purl
Of water by the mill-house yonder.

And often, sitting by the hearth,
To sound of sedge crack, or whatever,
I pray to steaming mother earth
For those who’re gone and lost for ever.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 12
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12



Текст стихотворения:
R.L. Stevenson
GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN

Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle;
If you would grow great and stately,
You must try to walk sedately.

You must still be bright and quiet,
And content with simple diet;
And remain, through all bewildering,
Innocent and honest children.

Happy hearts and happy faces,
Happy play in grassy places--
That was how in ancient ages,
Children grew to kings and sages.

But the unkind and the unruly,
And the sort who eat unduly,
They must never hope for glory--
Theirs is quite a different story


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 13
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13



Текст стихотворения:
Э.В. Киншакова, т.В. Кузнецова "Поем и говорим по-английски"

The months of the year

My school teacher often asks:
"Do you know the winter months?"
I say: "December, January
And the third is February."

My school teacher often asks:
"Do you know the spring months?"
"March and April," I will say
And the third - you know - May.

My school teacher often asks:
"Do you know the summer months?"
June, July and I have thought
August is, of course, the third.

My school teacher often asks:
"Do you know the autumn months?"
In September school begins,
In October - golden leaves.

In November you can say:
"What a nasty, rainy day!"


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:46 | Сообщение # 14
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14



The Lords of Life

The lords of life, the lords of life,-
I saw them pass,
In their own guise,
Like and unlike,
Portly and grim,
Use and Surprise,
Surface and Dream,
Succession swift, and spectral Wrong,
Temperament without a tongue,
And the inventor of the game
Omnipresent without name;-
Some to see, some to be guessed,
They marched from east to west:
Little man, least of all,
Among the legs of his guardians tall,
Walked about with puzzled look:-
Him by the hand dear nature took;
Dearest nature, strong and kind,
Whispered, 'Darling, never mind!
Tomorrow they will wear another face,
The founder thou! these are thy race!'

Ralph Waldo Emerson


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АдминДата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:46 | Сообщение # 15
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15



Love and Harmony(William Blake)

Love and harmony combine,
And round our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,
Chirping loud and singing sweet;
Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet.

Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
I am clad in flowers fair;
Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
And the turtle buildeth there.

There she sits and feeds her young,
Sweet I hear her mournful song;
And thy lovely leaves among,
There is love, I hear his tongue.

There his charming nest doth lay,
There he sleeps the night away;
There he sports along the day,
And doth among our branches play.


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АдминДата: Четверг, 31.10.2013, 22:26 | Сообщение # 16
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By The Sea

I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.

And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.

But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,

And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion's sleeve
And then I started too.

And he he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.

Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.

(by Emily Dickenson)


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