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Писатели Волков

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Волков Артём Сергеевич
ГБОУ СПО
«Ставропольский строительный
техникум»
Технико-экономическое отделение, 3
курс
Руководитель проекта
Конышева Т. В.
Poets
Poetry like life is diverse and complex. Our time when horizons are
widening in many directions it is one of a beautiful variety of stimuli,
challenge frustrations and rewards. In many periods of the past poets
sought to escape from the confusions of life about them by withdrawing
into a realm of their own, sometimes purely imaginative. They were a bit
sentimental, that is they responded with too much emotions to actual life
weeping or crying a bit too easily. They even had a language of their own.
Certain subjects and forms were considered unsuitable to a poem.
Nothing that the poet sees about him is regarded as too common place or
two prosaic for a poem. He may see hidden meaning in underlying beauty
anywhere. Many poems are characterized by the beauty of the language,
the regularity of the rhythm the love to nature and universal meaning that
have always been associated with good poetry. Poetry has many voices.
Some of them you will find as you listen to them, voice your own
ideals and impulses. They were on the whole simple cheerful, positive and
pleased with themselves. Perhaps they were a bit sentimental with too
much emotion to actual life weeping or cheering a bit too easily.
On April 23, 1564 a son, William, was born to
John and Mary Shakespeare in Stratford-upon-Avon, his
mother was the daughter of a farmer. His father was a glovemaker. William went to a grammar school in Stratford and
had a good education. There he learned to love reading.
While still a teenager, William married Anne Hathaway, a
farmer’s daughter some years older than himself. We don’t
know how he earned the living during these early years,
perhaps he helped his father in the family business.
During these years his three children were born:
Susannah, the eldest, then twins-a son, Hamnet and another
girl, Judith.
In 1587 Shakespeare went work to London, leaving Anne
and the children at home. We don’t know exactly why he did
it. Some people say that the reason was his love of the poetry
and theater. But there is another story which says that he had
to run away from law because he killed some deer belonging
to a rich man.
In London Shakespeare began to act and to write
plays and soon became an important member of a wellknown acting company. Most of his plays were performed in
the new Globe theatre build on the bank of the river Thames.
In 1613 he stopped writing and went to live in Stratford
where he died in 1616.
The Globe Theatre
where Shakespeare
worked. There were
performed many plays.
1593 The Comedy of
Errors
1595 Romeo and Juliet
1601 Hamlit
1604 Othello
1606 Macbeth
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender chorl, mak'st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery, so gaz'd on now,
Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:
Then being ask'd, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst answer, "This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,"
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether`tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and ,by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,`tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish`d. to die, to sleep:
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
Robert Burns was born in 1759 in Alloway, son of William Burns,
tenant-farmer of Alloway, and Agnes Broun . He had 3 brothers and 3
sisters. Robert was educated by his father. Then he went to Irvine to
learn the trade of flax-dressing. Later he had a great interest in poetry.
During his life he wrote a lot of poems about his Motherland and
people who lived there. Burns loved his Motherland with all his heart.
Burns married and he had a lot of children, but his daughters died, when
they were very small.
In 1785 he contemplated emigration to Jamaica, but planed to
published his poems first. After that he the Grand Lodge of Scotland
toasted him as “Caledonias Bard” and he was made Honorary Burers of
Dumfries. Burns traveled a lot and one day he fall down and his knee
was badly hurt.
At the end of his life Burns was ill with a rheumatic fever. In 1796
Robert Burns died in Dumfries. He was only 37 years old.
Robert Burns
was born in
1759 in
Alloway, son of
William Burns,
tenant-farmer of
Alloway, and
Agnes Broun .
O, my love is like a red, red rose
That`s newly sprung in June,
O, my love is like the melody,
That`s sweetly play`d in tune.
So fair art thou. My bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a` the seas gang dry.
Till a` the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi` the sun
And I will thee my dear,
While the sands o`life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only love,
And fare thee well a while!
And I will come again, my love,
Tho` it were ten thousand mile!
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart's is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer,
A-chasing the wild deer and following the roeMy heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go!
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valour, the country of worth!
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
Farewell to the mountains high cover`d with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below,
Farewell to the forests ad wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and long-pouring floods!
My heart's in the Highlands, my hearts is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer,
A-chasing the wild deer and following the roeMy heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go!
Thank you
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andreeva-sst
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