Конкурс 2013 (7-8 кл)
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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:42 | Сообщение # 1 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 2 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 3 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 4 |
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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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Админ | Дата: 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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:43 | Сообщение # 6 |
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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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Админ | Дата: 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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 8 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 9 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 10 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 11 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 12 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:44 | Сообщение # 13 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:46 | Сообщение # 14 |
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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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Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:46 | Сообщение # 15 |
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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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Админ | Дата: 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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