Here I am sitting on the shores of the Baltic Sea, on a beautiful sandy beach. I breathe the sea air and listen to the cries of seagulls and the whisper of the waves. The sun is at its zenith, hot. I'm too lazy to move and hide from the sun in the shade of the fungus. The air is saturated with iodine, it is good for the nerves. Here I sit, breathe and build a sandcastle on the shore. The waves lazily roll on the shore and it seems that they are telling me a fairy tale.

I dreamed...

A ship appeared on the horizon. Not just a ship, but a ship with scarlet sails. He slowly swims towards the shore. You can already see the captain on the bridge at the helm. He waves at me and smiles. I wave back to him.

But then one wave ran far ashore and washed away the sandy castle. The sails immediately disappeared as if they were not there. Tears welled up in my eyes.

When my nose was completely burned, and in order to somehow unwind, I began to wander along the water's edge and found a large shell. I wonder what kind of creature lived here? Whose house was it?

The waves are still playfully splashing like naughty little dogs. I continue walking along the seashore and find a piece of amber. In the sun it plays with shades yellow color. What secret is he revealing? If you look at it through a magnifying glass, you can see that a fly is frozen inside.

When I go home, I will remember this sea and this beach. I will put a shell to my ear to hear the sound of the sea in it, and admire a piece of amber.

2. Composition on the topic I am sitting on the river bank Grade 7

I am sitting on the river bank. She runs, moves, carries her waters... they sparkle in the sun! Definitely a sunny, warm day. But it's still early, and I'm fishing. I love fishing very much, and the cat also enjoys my prey. In general, this river is with my grandmother in the village. Grandma is waiting for me for breakfast, she probably already baked pancakes. Hot and delicious! But I don't want to leave the river bank just yet. No one bathes yet, no one walks on a suspension bridge.

It's good when there are a lot of people here during the day - fun, noisy. In the evening, fires are burned, bread is fried, but everyone is quite quiet. And how beautifully fire is reflected in the water!

But now (at dawn) I still like it better. Such peace, I can be with my thoughts. I don't even want to read. You look at how slowly the float sways on the water ... you dream of growing faster. And adults also dream on the river. Perhaps they want to be children again! Run and play, even go to school... dad doesn't like fishing, but he sometimes comes ashore with me. We do not talk so as not to scare the fish, but simply look at the water running past. And it's even better than any conversation.

Everyone go to the river! Quiet or noisy, in company or alone!.. It's always good there.
And the girls let wreaths down the river for the holiday.

3. Composition on the topic I am sitting on the lake

I am sitting on the shore of the lake... the water is so smooth, so beautiful. I look at it, how clouds, trees, the sun are reflected in it. I can look at myself, if the surface of the water is completely smooth, I can braid a beautiful braid.

The boys are sailing boats on the lake. Faster along the river, but here they will move if only the wind blows. But still it is very beautiful - small white sails in the background blue sky and lakes. For me, the lake is like that, although they say there are fish there, it has an aesthetic, as dad says, meaning. There is so much air above the lake! Everything is so beautifully reflected in the water, as if it were a magical picture ... and when the stars are in the sky, the moon! .. Then I am ready to sit here forever and admire. It seems to me that in moonlight mermaids dance, sing their beautiful songs. They told me here that Russian mermaids are the souls of drowned women. But it's not! And they don't lure people into the water at all. I don't want to believe it! Mermaids - they are with a tail, all funny. But, the truth is, although I don’t believe it, I’m a little afraid to go to the lake in the evening. Suddenly the boys decide to joke!

So, it's cool on the lake. You can still be there with benefit - sunbathe. I love being on the lake. And I advise everyone! Only not on ours, otherwise there will be a lot of people there.

Some interesting essays

First works of art with whom we get acquainted - fairy tales. They are read and told by parents, they are the first to be analyzed at literature lessons in primary grades.

• The image and characteristics of Ferdyshchenko in the novel The Idiot by Dostoevsky essay
• Criticism about the novel The Captain's Daughter of Pushkin and reviews of contemporaries

  The very publication of the novel in the Sovremennik magazine did not arouse interest from critics. Not a single magazine or newspaper published in St. Petersburg and Moscow commented on Pushkin's new work.

• The image of Rus' in the poem Dead Souls of Gogol essay

  The image of Rus' in Gogol's work is primarily associated with Russia-troika, that is, with a horse-drawn cart that rushes through the endless expanses. This image is still relevant today and continues

• Features of realism in the comedy Woe from Wit Griboyedov

  The realism of the work created by the writer is expressed in the disclosure of the meaningful meaning of the play, contained in the contradictions of the existing reality.

Finally, here I am again. My piece of heaven, my favorite beach. Every summer I come here, and how good it is here, how joyful it is to come back here again ... I am sitting on the seashore and do not yet fully believe that there are so many beautiful summer days ahead that there is no need to rush anywhere, but you can just sit quietly, and admire the sea, and listen to the cries of seagulls.

Zemfira's song is spinning in my head, something about "sky, sea, clouds" ... This is all that I see now, that I have wanted to see for so long. Behind remained tense academic year, now it seems that it was all so far away that there is only me and the sea in the world. I know that the sea was waiting for me, just me, like a good old friend who is unfailingly patient.

The sun is slowly going down. It's getting cooler, but the stones still keep the warmth of a hot day, it's so nice to lean on them with your feet. Children's laughter and the cries of merchants subside, the beach gradually becomes empty, people one by one collect their things and disperse. However, there are others who are in the minority - lovers of evening swimming. At this time of day, the water seems very warm because the air has already cooled down. If you go into the water, you can not even feel the coolness, but simply go into a state of weightlessness, lie on your back, and the water will hold you and gently rock you ...

Sometimes I also like to lie down like this in a calm evening water. You lie and look at the big deep sky, which at this time of the day shimmers with all shades from pale blue to rich burgundy. At such moments, I regret that I can’t draw, so I would like to capture this beautiful picture on canvas. In the evening, seagulls scream more cheerfully. Perhaps they rejoice in such a warm sunny day maybe exchange news, or just gossip. Some walk along the beach with a businesslike look and pick up various edible leftovers abandoned by vacationers.

And yet - the depth! Below me now is a whole underwater world: slowly inhaling and exhaling jellyfish, similar to flying saucers, flocks of funny fish flicker ... They have a different reality there, and, perhaps, I seem to them an unprecedented mysterious sea animal, who knows how swam into their possessions.

The sun has almost set, and I understand that my first evening at sea is coming to an end. Of course, I haven’t swum yet, but it’s great to know that the sea, seagulls, and jellyfish will be waiting for me here and tomorrow, and for many, many more days! Hello, sea ... How big, kind and affectionate you are, how I missed you.

• It was a foggy autumn morning. I walked through the forest deep in thought. I walked slowly, slowly, and the wind fluttered my scarf and leaves hanging from high branches. They swayed in the wind and seemed to be talking peacefully about something. What were those leaves whispering about? Perhaps they whispered about the past summer and the hot rays of the sun, without which now they have become so yellow and dry. Perhaps they were trying to call for cool streams that could give them drink and bring them back to life. Perhaps they were whispering about me. But only a whisper […]
• Lake Baikal is known all over the world. It is known for being the largest and deep lake. The water in the lake is drinkable, so it is very valuable. Water in Baikal is not only drinking, but also medicinal. It is saturated with minerals and oxygen, so its use has a positive effect on human health. Baikal lies in a deep depression and is surrounded on all sides by mountain ranges. The area near the lake is very beautiful and has rich flora and fauna. Also, many species of fish live in the lake – almost 50 […]
• I live in a green and beautiful country. It's called Belarus. Her unusual name speaks of the purity of these places and unusual landscapes. They exude peace, spaciousness and kindness. And from this I want to do something, enjoy life and admire nature. There are a lot of rivers and lakes in my country. They gently splash in the summer. In the spring, their sonorous murmur is heard. In winter, the mirror surface attracts ice skating enthusiasts. Yellow leaves glide across the water in autumn. They talk about the imminent cooling and the upcoming hibernation. […]
• Autumn beauty in a bright dress. In summer, rowan is invisible. It merges with other trees. But in autumn, when the trees are dressed in yellow outfits, it can be seen from afar. Bright red berries attract the attention of people and birds. People admire the tree. Birds feast on his gifts. Even in winter, when snow is whitening everywhere, mountain ash pleases with its juicy tassels. Her images can be found on many New Year's cards. Artists love mountain ash because it makes winter more fun and colorful. They love wood and poets. Her […]
• There are many wonderful professions, and each of them is undoubtedly necessary for our world. Someone builds buildings, someone extracts useful resources for the country, someone helps people dress stylishly. Any profession, like any person, is completely different, but all of them must certainly eat. That is why such a profession as a cook appeared. At first glance, it may seem that the kitchen is an uncomplicated area. What's so difficult about cooking? But in fact, the art of cooking is one of […]
• Since childhood, my parents have told me that our country is the largest and strongest in the world. At school, in the classroom, the teacher and I read a lot of poems dedicated to Russia. And I believe that every Russian should be proud of his Motherland. We are proud of our grandparents. They fought against the Nazis so that today we could live in a quiet and peaceful world, so that we, their children and grandchildren, would not be affected by the arrow of war. My Motherland has not lost a single war, and if things were bad, Russia would still […]
• Language ... How much meaning carries one word of five letters. With the help of language, a person from early childhood gets the opportunity to know the world, convey emotions, communicate his needs, and communicate. A language arose in the distant prehistoric period, when our ancestors needed, during joint work, to convey their thoughts, feelings, desires to their relatives. With its help, we can now study any objects, phenomena, the world and improve your knowledge over time. We've got […]
• Since childhood, we go to school and study different subjects. Some believe that this is an unnecessary business and only takes away free time that can be spent on computer games and something else. I think differently. There is a Russian proverb: "Learning is light, and ignorance is darkness." This means that for those who learn a lot of new things and strive for this, a bright road to the future opens up ahead. And those who are lazy and do not study at school will remain all their lives in the darkness of stupidity and ignorance. People who aspire to […]
• Today, the Internet is in almost every home. On the Internet you can find a lot of useful information for study or something else. Many people watch movies and play games on the Internet. Also, on the Internet you can find a job or even new friends. The Internet helps to keep in touch with relatives and friends who live far away. Thanks to the Internet, you can contact them at any moment. Mom cooks a lot delicious dishes that I found on the internet. Also, the Internet will help those who like to read, but […]
• Our speech consists of many words, thanks to which any thought can be conveyed. For ease of use, all words are divided into groups (parts of speech). Each of them has its own name. Noun. This is a very important part of speech. It means: an object, a phenomenon, a substance, a property, an action and a process, a name and a name. For example, rain is a natural phenomenon, a pen is an object, running is an action, Natalya is female name, sugar is a substance, and temperature is a property. Many other examples could be given. Names […]
• What is the world? To live in the world is the most important thing that can be on Earth. No war will make people happy, and even by increasing their own territories, at the cost of war, they do not become richer morally. After all, no war is complete without death. And those families where they lose their sons, husbands and fathers, even if they know that they are heroes, will still never enjoy victory, having received the loss of a loved one. Only peace can achieve happiness. Rulers should communicate only through peaceful negotiations different countries with the people and […]
• My grandmother's name is Irina Aleksandrovna. She lives in the Crimea, in the village of Koreiz. Every summer my parents and I go to visit her. I really like living with my grandmother, walking along the narrow streets and green alleys of Miskhor and Koreiz, sunbathing on the beach and swimming in the Black Sea. Now my grandmother is retired, and earlier she worked as a nurse in a sanatorium for children. Sometimes she took me to work with her. When grandmother put on a white coat, she became strict and a little alien. I helped her take the temperature of the children - carry […]
• Our whole life is governed by certain sets of rules, the absence of which can provoke anarchy. Just imagine if the rules of the road, the constitution and the criminal code, the rules of conduct in in public places, chaos will begin. The same applies to speech etiquette. Today, many do not attach of great importance culture of speech, for example, in in social networks more and more you can meet young people writing illiterately, on the street - illiterate and rudely communicating. I think this is a problem […]
• Since ancient times, language has helped people understand each other. A person has repeatedly thought about why he is needed, who invented him and when? And why is it different from the language of animals and other peoples. Unlike the signal cry of animals, with the help of language, a person can convey a whole range of emotions, his mood, information. Depending on the nationality, each person has his own language. We live in Russia, so our native language- Russian. Russian is spoken by our parents, friends, as well as great writers […]
• It was a beautiful day - June 22, 1941. People were going about their usual business when the terrible news sounded - the war began. On this day Nazi Germany, which had conquered Europe up to this point, attacked Russia. No one doubted that our Motherland would be able to defeat the enemy. Thanks to patriotism and heroism, our people were able to survive this terrible time. In the period from 41 to 45 years of the last century, the country lost millions of people. They fell victim to relentless battles for territory and power. Neither […]
• Native and the best in the world, my Russia. This summer, my parents and sister and I went on vacation to the sea in the city of Sochi. There were several other families where we lived. A young couple (they recently got married) came from Tatarstan, they said that they met when they worked on the construction of sports facilities for the Universiade. In the room next to us lived a family with four small children from Kuzbass, their father is a miner, extracts coal (he called it "black gold"). Another family came from the Voronezh region, […]
• Friendship is a mutual, vivid feeling, in no way inferior to love. Friendship is not only necessary, it is simply necessary to be friends. After all, not a single person in the world can live all his life alone, a person, both for personal growth and for spiritual, simply needs communication. Without friendship, we begin to withdraw into ourselves, suffer from misunderstanding and understatement. For me, a close friend is equated to a brother, sister. Such relationships are not afraid of any problems, life's hardships. Everyone has their own understanding of […]
• My home is my castle. This is true! It does not have thick walls and towers. But my little one lives in it and Friendly family. My house is a simple apartment with windows. From the fact that my mother always jokes, and my father plays along with her, the walls of our apartment are always filled with light and warmth. I have elder sister. We don't always get along, but I still miss my sister's laugh. After school, I want to run home on the steps of the entrance. I know I'll open the door and smell Mom and Dad's shoe polish. I will step over […]
• The Poetry Boom of the Sixties of the 20th Century The sixties of the 20th century were the time of the rise of Russian poetry. Finally, a thaw came, many prohibitions were lifted, and the authors were able to express their opinions openly, without fear of reprisals and expulsions. Collections of poems began to appear so often that, perhaps, there was never such a "publishing boom" in the field of poetry, either before or after. "Business cards" of this time - B. Akhmadulina, E. Yevtushenko, R. Rozhdestvensky, N. Rubtsov, and, of course, the bard-rebel […]
• Adults love to repeat the words of the Russian poet A.S. Pushkin "Reading is the best skill." I was taught to read at the age of 4. And I love to read different books. Especially real ones that are printed on paper. I like to first look at the pictures in the book and imagine what it is about. Then I start reading. The plot of the book captivates me completely. You can learn a lot from books. There are encyclopedias. They talk about everything that is in the world. Of these, the most entertaining about various […]

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51. The thin brooch pa was stitched with white thread. The competition was judged by a strict jury. For insurance, the parachutist has a reserve parachute.

52. Adjika, breeches, marry, attraction, shudder, painting, liquid, cheerful, stalled, lighter.
We ate potatoes with spicy adjika. On the tour we were shown the sights of our area. The lighter is filled with flammable liquid.
53. Summer on the river
We are going fishing. In the thicket of the forest, siskins chirp, the tops of pines sway. And on the river a fresh breeze blows and there is an extraordinary silence. We threw in our fishing rods and waited. At first they only pecked, but then two bream and even a small pike caught on the hook! We returned home and felt happy.

54 . A mysterious announcement hung on the wall. The truck overcame a steep slope and drove through the gate. The radio promised a severe cold snap and a blizzard.

55 . Ant - ant - ants, stream - streams - streams; stake - stakes, leaf - leaves, spike - ears; dog - dog - dog, bear - bear - bear; knock down - knock down - knock down t, sew up - sew - sew t, achieve - I'll get it - I'll get it.

56. drive off, drive up, drive around, leave, drive in; travel, go; cringe, cringe; appear, appear.

57 . Serious danger, team up with friends, letter boy to say thank you, happy childhood, drive up to the bridge, love mowing, edible mushroom, ruffled sparrows, light clouds, descend with a parachute, vast expanses, hovering over the steppe, the murmur of a stream.

60 . The sun came out from behind the clouds. A cat crawled out from under the porch. Because of the forest, because of the mountains, grandfather Yegor is coming.
61 . 1) From under the ground, from under the gates, from the dachas.
2) From the depths, from the palaces, from the gateway.
62 . Have fun in the summer on the river! Vasya swims crawl. Kolya and Dasha are playing ball, and Druzhok is also jumping after the ball. Katya has an interesting book, she doesn't want to play. Petya is fishing on the other bank. The older guys ride a boat, but it is difficult for them to row because of the strong current.
63 . Evening coming
It was evening. The September twilight was rapidly gathering. The first stars timidly appeared in the high sky. The trees merged into one dark mass. There was silence.

ski trip
On a quiet winter day, I enter the forest on skis. Pure snowdrifts lie under the trees. Above the forest paths, the trunks of young birch trees were bent under the weight of snow.
64 . The motor stopped and stopped. The plane rapidly descended. Falling, the plane touched the tops of pines. Having broken several trees, the car fell apart. But a moment earlier, Alexei was torn out of his seat, thrown into the air, and, falling on a broad-shouldered century-old spruce, he slid into a deep snowdrift. This saved his life.
65. It was in September. A hare jumped out of a sagebrush island and, like a ball, rolled across the field. The hawk rushed at the hare. Rusak quickly rolled over onto his back and hit the predator with his hind legs. I held my breath and began to watch the duel, not knowing what the scythe would come up with at the next attack of the hawk.
66 . Presentation.
67. Nouns: school, day, study.
Verbs: wakes up, beats, came.
Adjectives: cheerful, new, schooly, warm.
Pronouns: we, us, I, you.
Numerals: seven, twenty-five, one hundred.
Adverbs: excellent, familiar, fast.
Particles: don't, neither, would.
The poem does not mention preposition and conjunction.
Prepositions: with, for, on.
Conjunctions: and, but, but.

69 . Forward without fear and doubt!
Was (where?) in front, rush (where?) back, without fear and doubt (where?) forward, squeezing (how?) tightly, stepped (how?) harder, jumped (how?) suddenly, run away (how?) scarier.

70 . Quickly, but carefully, Vladik and Tolka ran across the paths, dived into the thicket of bushes, crawled up, went down, leaving nothing in their path unnoticed. Soon they were high above the sea. To the left, mountains were jagged with gorges. To the right were the remains of a low fortress.

The guys stopped. It was really hot. A powerful chorus of invisible cicadas thundered solemnly from behind the dusty bushes. The sea lapped below. And there was not a soul around.

Cicada is an insect that lives in the steppes, in the Crimea, in the Caucasus.

71. I'm standing on the seashore in a storm. The waves rise high. They are noisily beating against the stones. In the distance you can see the sail of the yacht. Seagulls sit on a cliff to the right. On the left, rescuers are sailing on a boat. The wind blows hard. It's getting chilly.

72. Once in the camp our detachment more l on a hike. We divided into groups. Vasya and Kolya put tent, Sasha and Katya collected firewood, Olya and Misha cleaned collected mushrooms, and Lena cooked porridge. Lene it seemed that boys are too long fiddling with a tent. She salted pasta and went them to help. At this time Olya and Misha approached to the fire to fall asleep mushrooms in the cauldron. They too decided to salt food and then go play into the ball. Kate brought a little more firewood and also salted the pasta. All became clear when we sat down to supper. Everything is long laughed and then anyway ate oversalted dinner. Any food in the forest is delicious!

73 . Knocks, strums, spins, does not speak, but shows (hours) -nast. temp.

It frowned, thundered, sparkled, broke out (thunderstorm) - past. temp.

Flowing, flowing (current time) - will not flow out (working time); runs, runs (current time) - will not run out (bud. time) (river). It sows, blows, twists, stirs, and roars, and pours, and sweeps (weather in autumn) - present. temp. I’ll add it, I’ll put it in, I’ll let it go overseas (bud. temp.) - and there he says (present temp.) (letter).

76. Hide, wait, awaken, request, tremble.

77. There is no need (what to do?) to boast if you don’t know how bread (what does it do?) will be born. There is nothing (what to do?) in a hurry - not porridge (what is it doing?) is being cooked. It is necessary (what to do?) to bend down to get drunk from a stream of water (what to do?). A crane walks through the swamp, (what does it do?) Gets hired. He is not afraid of labor (what is he doing?) who knows how (what to do?) to work. Literacy (what to do?) to learn - forward (what to do?) will come in handy. For everything (what does it do?) is taken, but not everything (what does it do?) succeeds.

Words with an unstressed vowel in the root: boast (praise), be born (genus), hurry (the first is unverifiable, the second is in a hurry), bend over (slope), water (water), through the swamp (unverifiable), to work (unverifiable), not afraid (be afraid), forward (front), useful (suitable), succeed (successful).

78 . The wind whistles under a steep fence, (what is it doing?) hides in the grass. And in the yard the blizzard spreads like a silk carpet (what is it doing?), but it is painfully cold. Dawns are blazing, (what are they doing?) fogs are smoking, there is a crimson curtain over the carved window. A convoy stretches across the meadow with a creak (what is it doing?) - the wheels smell of dryish linden. And nearby, at the thawed patch, in the grass, between the roots, a small silver stream is running (what is it doing?). In a dark grove on green firs (what are they doing?), the leaves of sluggish willows are golden. I go out to the high bank, where the bay splashes calmly (what is it doing?). (S. A. Yesenin.)

79 . Sunday walk.

The first part (description of the road): Last Sunday we went for a walk with the whole class. We went by tram to the station. We took the train to the village. From there we went to the birch grove.

The second part (classes in the forest): We stopped at a small clearing. The girls started cooking. The boys brought dry branches and made a fire. After dinner they played volleyball, sang songs, picked colorful autumn leaves, the last wildflowers.

Third part (return home): Returned home late.

It was possible not to tell in such detail about the road to the forest, but at the end it would be worth writing what this day was especially memorable for, what impressions it left.

80 . wonderful walk

Last Sunday we went for a country walk with the whole class. The road to the forest was long, but fun.

Finally we are in a birch grove. We stopped at a small clearing. The soft autumn sun shone, a cool breeze blew. The boys brought dry branches and kindled a fire, and the girls began to cook food. After a delicious dinner, everyone played volleyball and sang songs. I really liked walking through the grove, admiring autumn nature, collect variegated leaves, the last field and forest flowers.

We returned home tired but happy. We accomplished so much this day! I want to go to the forest again.

81. Lead - lead, lead, lead, lead, lead; sing - sing, sing, sing, sing, sing; speak - speak, speak, speak, speak, speak; to be silent - silent, silent, silent, silent, silent.

83. chase - verb, II sp., stands in unit. h., on bud. vp., in the 2nd person.

wins - verb, I sp., stands in unit. h., in present. vr., in the 3rd person.

beat - verb, I sp., stands in plural. h., in present. vr., in the 3rd person.

84 . Flow, river, do not sway,

On the steep coast you will not climb,

Don't worry about yellow sand!

85. In a dream, a person does not hear and does not see. Misha is ill and sadly looks out the window. The soldiers are holding machine guns.

86 . The word is not a sparrow: fly out - you won’t catch it. Wolves (what to do?) Be afraid - do not go into the forest. You can't hold water in a sieve. You won't get bread lying down. You won’t get drowsy, you won’t reach the lazy. Say sh - do not turn sh, write sh - do not erase sh, bran sh - do not add sh. Whoever lied yesterday, will not believe tomorrow. To take on everything (what to do?) - do nothing. You are holding.

87 . Who? Pupil, schoolgirl, children, adults, teachers. What? Desk, table, window, door, board.

88 . In the light (m. p., singular) there is another wonder (cf. p., singular):

The sea (cf. p., singular) swells violently,

Boil, raise a howl (m. p., singular),

Will rush to the shore (m. R., singular) empty,

It will spill in a noisy run (m. R., sg.),

And they will find themselves on the shore (m. R., singular),

In scales (feminine, singular), like heat (m., singular) of grief,

Thirty-three heroes (m. p., pl.),

All handsome men (m. p., pl.) are remote,

Giants (m. p., pl.) young,

Everyone is equal, as for selection,

With them is an uncle (m. R., pl.) Chernomor (m. R., singular). (A.S. Pushkin.)

89. Because the question is who? Animated nouns answer (human, dog, guys), but the question is what? - inanimate (sofa, glass, earth).

90 . Do not take on your own business, but do not be lazy about your own business. The initiative is more valuable than the deed. Judge people not by words, but by deeds. Tired, but not from work, but from idleness. Things went smoothly, and he is glad of that. Don't rush with your tongue, hurry up with your deeds.

Tired - vb., I ref., stands in the singular, in the past. vr., m.r.

91 . 1st declension: water, earth, young man.

2nd declension: village, field, table, fire.

3rd declension: night, laziness.

92 . The first part (description of the house): The house (2nd fold) stood in a deaf, abandoned garden (2nd fold). Every night (3rd fold) we were awakened by the knock (2nd fold) of wild apples (2nd fold) falling from the branches (1st fold) onto its boarded roof (1st fold) . The house (2nd fold) was littered with fishing rods (1st fold), shot (3rd fold), apples (2nd fold) and dry leaves (2nd fold).

The second part (occupations of residents): We only spent the night in it. All days (2nd fold), from dawn (2nd fold) to darkness (1st fold), we spent on the shores (2nd fold) of countless lakes (2nd fold). We fished there (1st level).
Wake up - verb, II sp., in the past. time, units hours, m.r.

93 thing comrade
night (drying) pears
youth caretaker
shiver floor
help hut
speech key
rye doctor
daughter (building) dachas
lies (many) puddles
game raincoat
midnight bream
power hoop
wilderness hedgehog
(because of) clouds
(many) tasks
rich
drawing
Baby
brick

Golden rye is earing. The lighthouse beam cut through the darkness. The helicopter flew into the taiga wilderness.

94 . 1st fold: without land (R. p.), to the ground (D. p.), about the earth (P. p.).

2nd fold: without a table (R. p.), to the table (D. p.), on the table (P. p.).

3rd fold: without night (R. p.), by night (D. p.), about night (P. p.).

95 . Exit (1st fold, D. p.) to the edge; settled down (1st fold., P. p.) in a clearing; edge (1st fold, R. p.) of the grove; no (3rd fold, R. p.) shadow; hide (3rd fold, P. p.) in the undergrowth; smell (3rd cl., R. p.) of wormwood; play (3rd cl., P. p.) in the green; bathe (2nd fold, P. p.) in splendor; joyfully (2nd fold, P. p.) in the heart.

Play - verb, I sp., in present. vr., in Zl., in pl.

96. In (1st fold, R. p.) hunting, I like the element of the game, (3rd fold, R. p.) chance; therefore, I did not (1st cl., R. p.) attempt to get a dog. Mowing continued for about (1st fold, R. p.) weeks. My father and I then lived in a good (1st fold, P. p.) tent with a fire, a kettle, slept on fresh (2nd fold, P. p.) hay and fished. In addition, I went further, up the river, about seven versts, where there were lakes in (2nd slope, P.p.) willow, and shot ducks. We cooked ducks in the hunting way, in buckwheat (1st class, P. p.) porridge. Despite my real passion for (1st class, P. p.) hunting, I never had the proper (1st class, R. p.) care and patience to equip myself properly. (A.S. Green.)
Cooked - verb, II sp., in the past. vr., in pl. h.

97. In a tent (with what?) with a fire - n., f. r., 1st cl., stands in T.p., in units. h.

Lakes (in what?) in a willow forest - n., m. r., 2nd slope, stands in P. p. h.

There was no (what?) patience - noun, cf. r., 2nd cl., stands in R. p., in units. h.

98. The garden is described more vividly in the second text because it contains adjectives.

99. Huge scarlet dahlias bloom in the flowerbed. The garden is full of colorful asters. Tall gladioli look like arrows. Maple leaves are yellow and red in autumn. They look like palms with spread fingers.

100 . On a long trip; with unexpected joy; on pinkish clouds; to a sprawling spruce; on a mighty oak; under a curly birch; because of the dark clouds.

On the clouds - noun, cf. r., 2nd fold, in P. p., in pl. h.

The earth's surface is a sign that it is allowed to live in space, because here you can sit, get up, walk, put out the lamp, look out the window. Eight other planets believe that these conclusions are wrong, and we hear them "no!" when they kill us and when we are sick. Nevertheless, I exist, and to me, frankly speaking, as a result of a completely unique being, the whole sea is dearer. Although I am not an enemy of the plains, a friend of the ice ridges, a connoisseur of deserts and mountains - especially the Apennines - all this, they say, is too much in space. We acquire the status of celestial bodies due to the relief. But their relief does not splash and does not flow, putting a limit to the eye, overcoming it. Every life matches the landscape. When he is gray, dry, limited, hard, what example can he set for minds and hearts, especially for aortas? When you stand on Sirius, there is a brown fantasy of rubble and boulder around. This spoils the heel and does not shine up close. Bodies and their heavens have no other environment, no matter how you twist space. "Many lived without," the poet remarked, "love, but no one without water." Hence my sentiment. And rather than a tourist ready to press the camera shutter at the moment when the landscape is undulating, the mollusk in me speaks. A choir of chordates sings along with him, five liters of non-blue blood echo: the surf won me back from the muscles and pores of dry land like a span. Standing on the seashore, wrinkling my brow, looking closely at the water, I am glad that I can look at something that is nowhere in the galaxy. The seas are made of waves - strange things, whose form of plural, left to their own devices, was formerly instilled in them by every craft. In essence, water is the sum of its parts, which their leapfrog changes every moment; and the nonsense of statements exacerbates the glare. The definition of a wave is contained in the very word "wave". It, marked by the stigma of a glance from the outside, is not enslaved to them. In the guise of the letter "v" the figure eight clearly gives a tour - the native daughter of infinity, so characteristic of blue, a bottle of ink, and so on. As a form, a rhombus, a triangle, a cube, all kinds of angles are alien to the wave. This is the beauty of water. It has something of the lips with foam along the cheekbones. The tendency to neglect the meaning, whose depth is literal, the sea distance resembles speech, torn letters, to some - a tablet. That is why, recognizing their handwriting in it, the singers sing a loose fringe - the chords of the voice or pupil are a shelter. Speak yourself, the wave could drive its listener crazy overnight, telling him: "I'm sorry, I'm not of this world." This, it seems to me, would be true. This one is held by hand; in it you can go to relatives, see the Colosseum, say "why? ". Otherwise, with a wave, whose noise, which looks like "cheers" - the noise that managed to absorb "tomorrow", "now", "yesterday", coming from the realm of sums - cannot be entered in a notebook. Where the past is plus the future together beat the buckets, creating the present, the taste dictates the volume of the masses. And hence the seas. The speed, nicknamed "light", the white dwarf, the quasar resemble sluts; that is, the fire, the market. Matter is an esthete, and it is better in the seas Any of them is more like a cast of time than a mixture of disaster and joy for the nostrils, or a feast of diadems, where at the table are your own. "It says: it is not a place for people. Especially if three-quarters. For a wave, land is only an episode, but for a fish inside it is worse than a blank wall: that light, oxygen, nitrogen. When deciphering "water", exposing its essence, will give in profile or in full face "infinity-oh-yes", that is, that the world was by no means created for us. native to him surrounded by a rock? And isn't the Earth just dishes? Type of bowl? And aren't we, plowing fields, dancing the foxtrot, a kind of border? The stars will nod: aha, the border, the fringe, the tie of lives, which the account of sight, spawning from the loud-boiling hectares of the sea, will not distract. They know better than to know. In essence, their glow in space can be explained by the lack of mirrors; it is easier to understand than to come to terms with it. But the seas, in their turn, do not face us at all, but upwards, appreciating them, on the contrary, like fireworks invented by a blind man. When trapped or when no one needs us, we see the seas outside, borrowing more than we really should. In the guise of many waters running towards us, rippling, rearing there, one imagines freedom from everything, from themselves, not to mention fate. If it exists at all - and the dispute about this is stronger in the wilderness - it is not animated, since the expanse of the sea is wider than the expanse of the soul. Turning up the big top, it is sad to think that the former, say, me, gasping for air, turning into nothing, will not become a wave. But if you are a little misanthrope, a reckless person, then you, pulling up your sash, it is pleasant, substituting your chest for this freedom, to take an extra step towards it. 1994 * Published on Sat. "In the vicinity of Atlantis" ("Pushkin Fund", St. Petersburg, 1995) under the title "Mollusk". In the NIB, the identical text is titled "Triton".

You are my sea wave
wayward wave,
How, resting or playing,
You are full of wonderful life!

Are you laughing in the sun
Reflecting the sky vault,
Or you rage and fight
In the wild abyss of waters, -

Your quiet whisper is sweet to me,
Full of affection and love;
I also understand the violent murmur,
Your prophetic groans.

Whether you are in a stormy element
Now gloomy, now bright
But in your azure night
Save what you took.

Not a ring, like a cherished gift,
I lowered into your swell,
And not a semi-precious stone
I buried in you.

No - in a fatal moment,
Attracted by secret charm,
Soul, soul I live
Buried at your bottom.

F. Tyutchev

Baltic Sea

Endless blue spaces
Like an abyss of a sea wave.
The Baltic Sea is blue
Raging and undead in the morning

It is not calm and gloomy
In the early days of autumn
But it's not scary guys
who have gone to sea.

There guys are strong and brave
And these are not the first days
When they go out to sea
To be able to fight with him.

I know they don't get scared
Don't let go of the helm.
And that's something to be proud of.
Baltic sailor.

V.Smirnov

By the sea

What space, what peace, what power,
What an endless joy!
I look at the sea today to my heart's content,
And I don't need more today.

Embrace me with cool moisture
Cover with a wave, swing like in a cradle!
How attractive is your melody!
How comforting are the waves of your swing!

Love me and cool my ardor
Hide from people, from greed and lies.
Take me with you so I forget
What bends await on land!

Forgive my weakness and forgive my sins
Forgive me for not being like that;
But if you can, help believe
That I am not a stranger on earth either.

E. Natsarenus

Rushing over the sea, playing
An exhilarating breeze.
And the sea reflects
Heavenly blue sky.

We are rocked by a boat of hope
The emerald dawn rises
Familiar cries of seagulls
We are given a holiday greetings.

We meet with you again
June over the sea plain,
And you stroke the strands of the surf
With your tanned hand.

S. Vostroknutov

Morning at sea

And in the morning on the sea
Such silence
What is the song of the surf -
And she is barely audible.
And the fishermen in the boats
Do not flinch, do not sigh.
Come on bull
Grab the hook
And then they fall asleep.

Look, fishermen
Look east:
Appeared at sea
wonderful float,
And then it floats
Sparkles and buzzes
Excellent day,
Great day,
Big as a whale fish!

O blue sea!
Hello you, hello!
Where are the fishermen?
And they disappeared and trace.
The ships sailed
The boats sped
And shine and sound
From all sides,
And the dawn ended.

White seagull dreams of the sea

White seagull dreams of the sea
crowded shore, breeze, wave,
seaweed, roots
coniferous pines, depth.

Seagull dreams of the sky, speed,
wind in the wings, sail, splash,
salt on stones, weightlessness,
sparks of the sun, starlight.

Dreams are beautiful of white gulls.
Landfill - home, reality, life.
The vociferous choir is sad:
here - do not sleep, but circle!

Seagull dreams of the sea, summer,
pebbles glossy heat...
The beak is rattling on the cage, -
fish house through glass.

T. Platonova

Sea distance in a misty haze;
There the sail sinks, as if in smoke,
And the waves in constant anger
They run to my coast.

Of these, one that I have chosen
I stare straight ahead
And behind her steep ridge
I follow the wet stone.

A seagull smoothly descended to her, -
The sharp wing will not tremble.
But now the mass has come,
Heavy as glass;

Splashed on a stone wall
Here it will loudly strike on the stove -
And the thrown foam
Scattered by the wind on the fly.

Sea study

sea ​​pier
captivate me with sadness,
cold smooth
full calm gnaws,
How good
when such peace
And the horizon flies
a hundred miles.

flying seagull
liner in the distance
It has purity
wandering wanderings,
The steering wheel is trembling
in a sure hand
Knowing no pain
sleep and distance.

When the wave
rise up the mountain
Hit with a bang
breaking out of the abyss,
Soul of the sea
hurry home
all boilers,
torn with a firebox.

chilly wind
sing a song,
Rip in madness
sails and tackle,
Will end the day
dreamy flight
And the pier is cold
will break into pieces.

V. Zadorozhny

And the waves - on the shore, and the foam boiled.
The sea sang to me about something unrealizable.
And the seagulls rushed about, and full of passion,
Heaved up, breathed like a chest, breakers.

Bottomless bowl, boundless distance
And a gray haze - is it mercury? is it water?
Il var - an amalgam of cosmic resins,
What pulls and beckons, and beats against the pier.

Spirals radiated from the sun's rays,
From eternity to eternity they looked at the Earth,
As I am in the wind, at the edge of the earth,
I stand on a stone at the edge of the Universe.

Oh my sea! You are different today
Empty, unknown, not native -
You're scaring. Your insatiable mouth
Calls to push off, step and the abyss.

And perish in the abyss, numb with horror,
Neither near nor far, no longer regretting -
Leave, breaking away from dreams and deeds,
In a different element, beyond the edge, beyond the limit.

O. Altovskaya

Surf

Cliffs. heat and sleep in the desert,
Sand and ringing cartilage all around,
And far away the earthly stronghold
Sea waves are pounding.

On that line already harmless,
Not reaching the red rocks,
Last green copper
The Mediterranean shaft sparkles;

And, forgetting your stormy age,
Runs along the motley shallows
And refracted and azure;
But here's the barrier - it boils,

Decorated with pearl foam
Gets up to fight the rock
And, dying, everything is terrible
All the depth passed.

maritime history

In the thirtieth ocean
Where is the ninth shaft,
Vanya swam on the couch
And he buried it in a pillow.

In the black sea, blue sea
Half an hour without accidents
Zina swam in a basket,
Raising the sails

Nicholas on a stool
Eating a cake from a plate
Forgotten and often
Falling overboard into the sea.

Slava sailed on the table
And kicked the pretzel,
I just swam in the sea
Because there were sharks.

I did not have enough watercraft,
Even bedside tables with a paddle.
I am now the source of disaster
Sword fish and crowbar fish.

I'll pierce the basket
I'll rock the sofa
Let Zina drown in the sea
And Ivan will go to the bottom.

I will overturn Nicholas
And eat the rest of the cake.
I'm a very bad fish
And completely hungry.

Only Slava quickly escaped,
From the table, jumping into the closet,
And said the fish are dangerous
The bathyscaphe is not afraid.

It's pretty easy to fire up the closet.
Along with those who are in it.
It's a pity, I'm smaller than Slava
And three times worse.

How good are you, O night sea, -
It's radiant here, it's gray-dark there...
In the moonlight, as if alive,
It walks and breathes and it shines...

In the endless, in the free space
Shine and movement, roar and thunder...
The sea drenched in a dull radiance,
How good you are in the emptiness of the night!

You are a great swell, you are a sea swell,
Whose holiday are you celebrating like this?
Waves are rushing, thundering and sparkling,
Sensitive stars look from above.

In this excitement, in this radiance,
All, as in a dream, I'm lost standing -
Oh, how willingly in their charm
I would drown my whole soul ...

F. Tyutchev

On the plain of azure waters
We walked on the right path,
Fire-breathing and stormy
The sea serpent carried us away.

From the sky the stars shone for us,
A wave sparkled from below
And a blizzard of wet dust
She gave us.

We were sitting on the deck
Many have overcome the dream ...
All the louder wheels sang,
Raking up a noisy shaft ...

Our cheerful circle calmed down,
Women's speech, women's noise...
Supports elbow white
Lots of sweet, sleepy thoughts.

Dreams play in the open
Under the magic moon
And the sea cradles them
Silent wave.

F. Tyutchev

Ocean under a clear moon
Warm and tall, pale-faced,
Flows in a smooth, slow wave,
Illuminated by the hot lightning.
Mountains of cloudy masses rise:
Gabriel, incense to the heavenly Powers,
In the dark incense of the royal doors
Shines with a fire-breathing censer.
Indian Ocean

Ivan Bunin

Surf

Noisy, unceasing surf:
It whispers, overcome by longing,
Then again, dissatisfied with himself,
On the rocks rushes into battle,
Roaring, indomitable.

But those are impregnable, they stand,
Taking blow after blow.
Only the waves roar, boil.
In a monstrous impulse, furious
All strength wasted!

By the morning calmed down, subdued
And the shore gently caresses.
I looked at the sea for a long time -
I dared to ask the surf.
Where does it have such power from?

He really conquered me
Having told the legend of the sea:
Once was young, loved;
But the nymph Boreas killed ...
He forgot the caresses of his beloved
And such a rage comes!

D. Tolstoy

Above the sea

Only the smell of thyme, dry and bitter,
Breathed on me - and this sleepy Crimea,
And this cypress, and this house, pressed
To the surface of the mountain, merged with him forever.
Here the sea is the conductor, and the resonator is the distance,
The concert of high waves here is clear in advance.
Here the sound, touching the rock, slides vertically,
And the echo among the stones dances and sings.
The acoustics above set up traps,
She brought the distant murmur of jets closer to her ears.
And the roar of storms became here like the thunder of cannons,
And like a flower, a girl's kiss blossomed.
A cluster of tits whistle here at dawn
Heavy grapes are transparent here and al.
Here time is not in a hurry, children gather here
Thyme, grass of the steppes, near the immovable rocks.

Nikolay Zabolotsky

The sea is calling

Oh, I want to be a captain
Or a sailor at worst!
Surf the seas and oceans
Surrendering to the wind like a youth.

I will rejoice, and the cries of seagulls
Disturbing the morning mist,
They will shout to me that I have set off
Well, not so, I'm not swimming correctly.

Let them scream, that's why they are terns,
This is the life of the former voice...
Sea on board, desperate pitching,
The wind blows the sails...

The sea beckons

The sea is worried, beckoning to itself,
Rushing off into the distance...
The wind takes the sadness away,
The waves are hopeful.

The sun throws rays on the earth,
He hugs us tenderly...
The white seagull screams in alarm,
I want to swim in peace.

Easy dance steps on the sand,
Jumping into the stormy sea...
I won't sail back again
I will live in space...

The sea has calmed down

The sea calmed down in the dark night ...
Waking up suddenly from silence
I look at the sky - the stars, the stars.
And I'm alone among the grass
Dry and spicy. Among the patterns
Zatey limestone stones...
And only the sky, only the mountains,
And the sea, light slightly ...
Taking in the smells of the foothills,
Steppe grass, salt bays,
I breathe in the silence of drunkenness,
And I can't breathe.

The Sea of ​​Okhotsk rumbles like a wave.
Throws - gulls rush by.
A giant volcano smokes in the distance,
Glory to Kamchatka.

Brencha,
Rolled away from large stones
Spotted pebbles shyly:
Full width unfolded over her
The grinning crest of the tide.

Now
Behind the rock
The ship screams
impetuous,
with white border,
And, shuddering,
The chewing deer will turn
winged head
To sea.

N. Mateeva

Spring at sea

Blizzards resounded in the rocks.
Filling the air with light
The sun streaked with rays
To the jubilant bay!

The day will pass - your hands will get tired.
But, shading fatigue,
Living sounds from the soul
In a slender asking for a motive.

The light of the moon is thin at night,
The beach is bright at night
The sea is quiet as a kitten
Everything is scraping against the pier...

N. Rubtsov

On a raid

I love the dry, hot sheen of gold coins,
When they drop him from the ship
And he, slipping a radiant drop of the sun,
Cut through the waves at the helm.

Leaning from the sides, with an involuntary smile
Everyone looks down. And he has already disappeared.
Unsteady gloss flows up the stern
From the waves, from the sun and heaven.

How the heat burns pure copper nuts
Under the silver awning of the ship.
And the seagulls float on snowy wings,
Squinting at the waves at the helm.

Waves rise like mountains
And ascend to the firmament of the stars,
And eyes fall with horror
In instantly torn abysses.

Like passion, don't know
Middle disturbing force,
Now to the sky, then throws into the abyss
A boat without an oar and fed.

Do not believe it, flying up to the stars,
High chosen share,
Do not believe, falling into the depths,
That you won't see the stars anymore.

Elements boundless, bottomless
The excitement will subside, and soon
Legal will enter its level
Souls of a calm sea.

A. Tolstoy

Sleepy sea

The velvet of the sky reflected in the waters,
Shot through with stars,
Covers softly like a blanket
The sleepy sea that breathes measuredly.
Spreading gigantic breasts
The folds of the waves grumbling with every breath.
And in a dream, tossing and turning, washes away
Elm of daytime footprints from the sand... and echo
A whisper of the surf in foamy curls
Hiding forever in the house of the rapana ...
And for a couple with ancient mother-of-pearl
The sea waltz is played tirelessly...

Evening sea. hushed waves
Rumble softly about sunny days.
The breath of the sea slowly, calmly
Takes away from the heat on light wings.

Around imperceptibly the evening thickens,
And subtle freshness in the silence of the night
Cool soft lies on the shoulders.
They stand still, as in a ghostly dream,

Columns of trees - against the backdrop of sunset;
Through the twilight flows unknown blues.
The flutter of speeches, and the staccato surf,
And beach air tastes like iodine.

Scattered by the light of a distant port
Colored garland of coastal advertisements.
A diamond chain sparkling from the horizon,
The caravan plays with the lights of the ships.

The glow of the sea, beckoning with mystery:
Swimmers are surrounded by blue light.
Lost in the darkness of someone's random line,
A barely audible surf flickers along the beach ...

Olga Bagaeva

sea ​​summer

Rocks, coast, cascading slope,
Horizon dome summer,
Sea smell and coolness,
The beach camp is multi-colored.

Hum and laughter. In the hot sand
Brittle-sharp shells.
A flock - naked children,
Only panamas on the tops.

Quietly the waves cover
The edge of the sand is a cold cloak.
Jellyfish swim through them
For their underwater affairs.

Motorcycles of water chirps,
(Someone, by the way, upside down...)
Bright pinned to the cloud
Hang glider overhead.

In the lush green of chestnuts
The café blossomed with umbrellas.
Bubbles in ice glasses
Wind with music, flowers...

In the hot blue distance -
Seagulls in the sky. Sea of ​​light...
In the bright life of the carnival
The whirlwind of the sea summer is circling.

Olga Bagaeva

april light

April sun rising from the sea
Shines with a crown of primordial rays,
Plays in the shimmering water pattern
A bizarre dance of fire and shadows.

Courageous couples roam the beach
Scooping transparent sand in boots.
Frolic at will in a cheerful courage
Big St. Bernard, like a stupid puppy.

With a thoughtful creak, the swing woke up,
The benches straightened their backs in an arc;
The spacious sky breathed in April,
Coolness and the sea, a spring dream.

The jokes of the breeze will comb all the jokes differently,
Blowing away cold winter dreams...
Smiles flash like a sunbeam -
The harbinger of the radiance of a new spring!

Olga Bagaeva

The sun plunged into the sea at sunset.
Rinse the waves in the glare of wet, dress,

Made from foam lacy, playful.
Seagulls responded with a playful cry,

They flew off into the distance, to the edge of the horizon.
The beacon is tired, there, looking for someone ...

Splashes broke on the coastal sand,
They gave moisture ... Whisper quiet, gentle,

It flowed in shells, turning into sounds.
Forgotten words, secrets, fell into our hands.

From the depths of the azure moon rose,
Reflecting eternity and dreaming of love.

Above the sea

Somewhere over a distant sea
Seagulls fly in flocks
And untouched by grief
They eat slippery fish.
Flying past the rocks to the sky,
What stand by the shore
Fly at dawn
As freely as they want.
And the wind blows by the sea
And in the sky, dawn breaks,
There is no sweeter place in the world
Where the birds soar merrily.

Why are you the Black Sea,
Not Green, not Blue?
Why are you like this
Devilishly beautiful?

On a clear day, calm
A little wave splashing ...
multicolored flame
You shine under the sun!

In gloomy - frown!
Darken the waters...
And then suddenly you rebel -
Mountain rapids!

Calm down again
Shine with colors...
And dive like a girl
You will be fooled by caresses!

whisper of the sea

The surf runs over the rocks
The sea breathes with a tired wave.
A seagull will wake up the dawn with a cry
The sun in the sea will find its portrait.

The coast is quiet, so deserted
Only whispering pebbles with a wave.
Foam will cover the pebbles like a blanket
And get the answer you want.

Pebbles will quietly say: I'm sorry,
You swim back with a wave,
Dissolve completely in the abyss
You're foam, but still, a wave.

You are strong, you are a sip of the sea,
And I'm pebbles, I'm just sand
I am a piece of broken rock
I am alone, like forgotten dreams.

The foam instantly melts with the wave
And stroke the fragment of the earth,
Look high into the sky
And he will answer: you, too, like me.

You are necessary and important for the sea,
The wave won't roll without you
Do not whisper at dawn,
How beautiful is our blue ball.