Poems about the motherland50 touching poems about the homeland, short, beautiful

The content of the article

1 Popular poems about the homeland
2 The best poems about Russia
3 Beautiful patriotic poems
4 Interesting poems about homeland for children

Here you will find a poem about the homeland. Also on the site there is a beautiful text of poets and short poems by Yesenin. A verse about the Russian land can be memorized. My native Russia is in my heart forever. Its edges are endless. Choose a homeland verse below and read it to your child.

Popular poems about the homeland

Kremlin stars
Burning over us
Everywhere their light comes!
The guys have a good homeland,
And better than that homeland
Not!

* * *

Zhura-Zhura-Zhuravel!
He flew around a hundred lands.
He flew around
Wings, legs toil.
We asked the crane:
Where is the best land?
He answered, flying:
Better there is no native land!

* * *

Hills, copses,
Meadows and fields -
Native, green
Our land.
Land where i did
Your first little step
Where did you go out once?
To the fork in the road.
And I realized that this
The expanse of fields -
Great particle
My homeland.

* * *

And beautiful and rich
Our homeland guys.
Long drive from the capital
To any of its borders.
Everything around you, dear:
Mountains, steppes and forests:
Rivers sparkling blue
Blue skies.
Every city
Heart of the road
Every rural house is expensive.
Everything in battles was once taken
And hardened by labor!

* * *

In the morning the sun rises
Calling us to the street.
I leave the house:
- Hello, my street!
I sing and in silence
The birds sing along to me.
Grasses whisper to me along the way:
- You hurry, my friend, to grow!
I answer the herbs,
I answer the wind
I answer the sun:
- Hello, my motherland!

* * *

What do we call homeland?
The house where we live
And birches along which
Next to mom we go.
What do we call homeland?
Thin-spike field
Our holidays and songs,
Warm evening outside the window.
What do we call homeland?
Everything in the heart we care
And under the sky blue-blue
Flag of Russia over the Kremlin.

* * *

Blossoms over a quiet river apple tree.
Gardens are thoughtful.
What a smart homeland
She herself is like a wonderful garden!
The river plays with rifts
In her fish is all made of silver,
What a rich homeland
Do not count her good!
A wave is running leisurely
The expanse of fields caresses the eye.
What a happy homeland
And this happiness is all for us!

* * *

If they say the word "homeland",
Immediately remembers
Old house in the garden currant,
Thick poplar at the gate
The river is a shy birch
And chamomile mound ...
And others will probably remember
His native Moscow yard.
The first boats in the puddles
Where was the rink recently
And a large neighboring factory
Loud, joyful beep.
Or the steppe from poppies is red,
Golden virgin ...
Homeland is different
But everyone has one!

* * *

Hello to you, my native land,
With your dark forests
With your great river
And boundless fields!
Hello to you, dear people,
The hero of work is tireless,
In the middle of winter and summer heat!
Hello to you, my native land!

* * *

Goy you, my dear Russia,
Huts - in the garb of the image ...
Do not see the end and the edge -
Only blue sucks his eyes.
Like a visiting pilgrim,
I look at your fields.
And at low outskirts
The poplar is wailing loudly.
It smells of apple and honey
In the churches of your meek Savior,
And buzzing behind the cohort
In the meadows a cheerful dance.
Escape the wrinkled stitch
To the green lech
To meet me like earrings
The girl laughs.
If the holy man shouts:
“Throw you Russia, live in paradise!”,
I will say: “Do not have paradise,
Give my homeland. ”

* * *

Touching the three great oceans,
She lies spreading cities
Covered with a grid of meridians
Invincible, wide, proud.
But at the hour when the last grenade
Already entered in your hand
And in a brief moment it is necessary to recall at once
All that we have left in the distance
You do not remember a big country,
Which you traveled and found out
Do you remember the homeland - such
When you saw her as a child.
A piece of land, crouched by three birches,
A long way for fishing line
A small river with a creaky transport.
Sandy coast with low willow.
That's where we were lucky to be born,
Where for life, to death, we found
That handful of land that suits.
To see in it the signs of the whole earth.
Yes. You can survive in heat, in a thunderstorm, in cold weather,
Yes, you can starve and chill
Go to death ... But these three birches
During life, no one should be given.

* * *

What is this song of weeping birches about
A melody full of light and tears?
About the motherland, only about the motherland.
What is behind the cold granite borders
Longing for the birds flying away for the winter?
About the motherland, only about the motherland.
In minutes of sorrow, in a year of adversity
Who will sip us and who will save us?
Homeland, only homeland.
Whom in the fierce cold do we need to warm
And in difficult days should we regret it?
Homeland, sweet homeland.
When we go into interstellar flight
What does our earthly heart sing about?
About the motherland, only about the motherland.
We live in the name of goodness and love,
And the best songs of yours and mine -
About the Motherland, only about the Motherland ...
Under the scorching sun and snow dust
And my thoughts and my prayers -
About the motherland, only about the motherland.

* * *

Oh, Motherland! In a dim shine
I catch a quivering eye
Your copses, copses -
All that I love without memory:
And the rustle of a white-trunk grove,
And the blue smoke in the distance is empty
And a rusty cross above the bell tower
And a low mound with a star ...
My grievances and forgiveness
Burn like an old stub.
In you alone - and comfort
And my healing.

The best poems about Russia

On a wide expanse
Before dawn
Got scarlet dawns
Over the native country.
Every year more and more beautiful
Dear edges ...
Better Our Homeland
Not in the world, friends!

* * *

Russia! Russia! Holy Land
What from Moscow to the outskirts,
Forests, seas, fields and rivers,
For us, you are always and forever
Our home is native, you are my pier
Here I loved, suffered, dreamed
So that you live, native country,
In harmony, peace, prosperous.

* * *

Ah, Russia, you are Russia,
Yes, my dear side!
May the Messiah protect you!
Be free and strong!
Do not attract other countries,
I don’t need a stranger’s land.
More beautiful Russian glades
And the cries for the boundary.
And as if everything is fine:
The sun rises at dawn
The air is warm, strawberry,
Snoozing river in silver.
Only a lot of worries:
Though the clouds are clear
What can offend you
Someone's greedy hand.

* * *

Mind Russia does not understand
Arshin common not to measure:
She’s special to become -
One can only believe in Russia.

* * *

Be, Russia, always Russia
And do not cry, crouching to others on the chest.
Be free, proud and beautiful
If we will not be, be!
We were born in the snowiest country,
But in the most gentle country,
Not sinless, true, but boundless
With a Russian song on a par.
Is conscience in a camp grave?
Will live and courage and honor.
In order for us to be happy
We have everything in Russia.
Russians, together we are strength.
Separate us just to shake off the planet.
God bless you, Russia
If we will not be, be!

* * *

Oh my mother, Russia, Russia,
Your golden-headed throne is unshakable
I love you, I'm proud of you
Long-suffering and sovereign.
Russia, Russia, great power,
Great power, bottomless Russia,
In Russia, in Russia I am in love with all my heart
And I will stay with her forever, I swear!

* * *

My beloved Russia!
My beautiful country!
You are like an angel to me! How is the Messiah!
How a miracle of life has been given!
Nowhere else can I find
Similar colors over the river ...
Nowhere, nowhere, my Russia
I can’t find a country like this
Your spaces are endless
And you are full of kindness ...
And from myself I will say personally
I love you, my country!

* * *

Russia - You are like a second mother to me,
I grew and grew before Your eyes.
I go forward confidently and directly,
And I believe in God that lives in heaven!
I love the sound of your church bells
And our rural flowering fields,
I love people, kind and spiritual,
Which raised the Russian Earth!
I love slender, tall birches -
Our sign and symbol of Russian beauty.
I look at them and sketch
Like an artist, I write my poems.
I could never part with you
After all, I love you with all my heart and soul.
War will come and I’ll go to fight
At any moment I want to be only with you!
And if something ever happens,
That fate will divorce us with you
Like a bird in a tight cage I will fight
And every Russian here will understand me!

* * *

I can’t imagine myself without Russia,
Without her birches and poplars,
Without her uncoated blue
Without its snowy fields.
Without her worker and god -
A person with Lefty experience,
Without her Yesenin and Blok,
Without her prophetic soul.
I can’t imagine myself without Russia,
Without my native land, where everything is mine,
Where I lay on my heart for the first time
The song is her lullaby.
Without her legends and prophetic tales,
Mountain winds, bitter as wormwood.
Without her transformed women
From the unknown Cinderella to the goddesses.
Without her iron commissars
Falling down with a song on their lips
Without her cosmic Icars
In their unthinkable posts.
Without her immeasurable power
Without its wide open seas ...
I can’t imagine myself without Russia,
Without her love and without mine!

* * *

She is not chosen, like her mother.
It is acquired with life.
You can’t forget and lose her,
It grows in the heart forever, homeland.
Whatever her fate
I can’t take a hand out of her hand.
And no matter how hard her struggle
Together we take both pain and flour.
And in the hills, among the gray birches,
Asking God for mercy and bread,
Not seeing Christ standing in the doorway
Crosses churches Russia pulls in the sky.
Maybe the ringing of all the bells
Having cleansed the soul of unbelief of filth,
In his veil of tearful centuries
Russia will wake up, like a sleeping princess.

* * *

Children of the steppes, countless hordes,
Bonfires went through Russia,
And drew black coal
Map of the Russian land.
But on the way, it arose in them,
Wall Kulikovo field,
And turned their hordes into dust
By your unbending will.

* * *

The white beauty stood before me
Leaves stretch from the winds into the fire
With a gentle hand across the face
And crying softly in a whisper at the gate.
Snow sings her a song, a blizzard swept
And she is sad that spring is gone
What with spring and youth will leave her,
And she is sad, crying at the gate.

* * *

Oh Russia!
With a difficult fate, the country ...
I have you, Russia,
Like a heart, alone.
I'll tell a friend
I will tell the enemy -
Without you,
Like without a heart
I can’t live ...

Beautiful patriotic poems

In the dugouts, in the dusk of the night
For memory we will come -
How are we in our own home
Have celebrated the New Year;
How were going at the same time
At the peace table
How much has been given to us
And light and heat;

* * *

After all, such autumn will come
To every city and every home
When our grandchildren will ask us
About the past.
Grandchildren will say: “Quiet is enough,
Remember what and how:
Days when Smolny began
And when Kolchak threatened.

* * *

We are Russians. We are the children of the Volga.
For us, the values are full
her slow waves
as heavy as boulders.
Russia's love for her is imperishable.
They are drawn to her by the soul of the whole
Kuban and Dnieper, Neva and Lena,
and Angara and Yenisei.

* * *

They say: Russia ...
Rivers and birches ...
And I see your hands
knotted hands
hard.
Wrinkled hands from washing
soaked in bitter tears,
swaying, swaddling,
blessed for victory.
I see your fingers brought together -
all your worries are happy
all your everyday labors
all the losses are innumerable ...
Would have a rest, yes no habit
kneeling them idly ...
I'll buy you mittens
Do you want blue, do you want red?
Don't say no,
Like, what is the beauty of the old woman?
I’m glad to warm my heart
strained your hands.
I hold them as my salvation
unrest did not master.
Your good hands
beautiful your hands
my mother, Russia!

* * *

Travel over the oceans
Fly over the whole earth:
There are different countries in the world,
But such as ours, can not be found.
Our bright waters are deep
Wide and loose land,
And thundering, not ceasing, plants,
And the fields bloom, flourishing ...

* * *

Kremlin stars
Burning over us
Everywhere their light comes!
The guys have a good homeland,
And better than that homeland
Not!

* * *

I love my homeland, but with a strange love!
My mind will not triumph.
Not the glory bought in blood
Neither peace of pride,
No dark antiquity treasured traditions
They do not stir in me a rejoicing dream.
But I love - for which, I don’t know myself -
Her steppes cold silence
Its forests of boundless sway,
Its floods, like the seas;
In a country way I like to ride in a cart
And, with a slow gaze piercing the night,
Meet around, sighing about an overnight stay,
Trembling lights of sad villages.
I love the smoke of a burnt stub,
Sleeping convoy in the steppe
And on a hill in the middle of a yellow cornfield
A couple of whitening birches
With joy, many unfamiliar
I see full threshing floor.
A hut covered in straw
With carved window shutters;
And on a holiday, dewy evening,
Watch until midnight ready
To a dance with stomping and whistling
To the tune of drunken peasants.

* * *

How not to be proud of me for you
O my homeland!
When native to the Volga
I stand still
When prayerfully your gaze
Throwing to Heaven
To your enchanting expanse
To the dark forests.
How nice you are on a warm day
At the spring festival
Among the welcoming villages
Birthmark! ..
I'm in every rustle of sheets
I recognize your voice.
I walk among your meadows
I dream and sing.
In everything in you and power is visible,
And power with beauty
No wonder you are called
Great and holy.

* * *

Fatherland this cup, friends!
Country where we first
Tasted the sweetness of being
Fields, native hills,
Native sky sweet light
Familiar flows
Golden Games of the First Years
And the first years of lessons,
What will replace your charm?
O holy motherland
Which heart does not tremble
Blessing you?

* * *

Spring,
peppy
Eternal
good,
Tractor
plowed
Happiness
seeded -
All in front of her
From South
to the north!
Sweet homeland
Motherland is light brown,
Peaceful Peaceful
Russian-Russian ...

Interesting poems about homeland for children

What does the homeland begin with?
With smiles and tears of mothers;
From the path, the guys passed
From home to school doors.
From birches standing for centuries
On the highlands in my father’s land,
Touch with desire
My beloved land.
Where does our Homeland end?
Look - you will not see the borders,
In the fields, the horizon moves apart
With the flash of distant lightning.
And at night in the seas of her blue
A wave cradles the stars.
There is no end-end for Russia;
It is boundless like a song.
So what are you. Homeland?
Fields in the copses of dawn.
Everything very familiar seems to be
And you look - and the heart burns.
And it seems: you can run
Take off without fear of the heights
And a blue star from the sky
Get it for my dear country.

* * *

Homeland is a big, big word!
May there be no miracles in the world
If you say this word with your soul,
Deeper than the seas, higher than heaven!
It fits exactly half the world:
Mom and Dad, neighbors, friends.
City dear, native apartment,
Grandma, school, kitten ... and me.
Sunny bunny in the palm of your hand
Lilac bush outside the window
And on the cheek a mole -
This is also the homeland.

* * *

In kindergarten they learned
We are wonderful words.
They were first read:
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
Spring and summer will fly by.
Will be sunny foliage.
Illuminate with a new light
Mom, Motherland, Moscow.
The sun is gently shining for us.
The blue is pouring from the sky.
May they always live in the world
Mom, Motherland, Moscow!

* * *

Motherland.
I’m frank with you as a son,
You fed me for kindness.
You gave me wings for inspiration
And you pointed the way to the peaks.
Not in the breadth of the steppes is your greatness,
You are close to me with other beauty:
Like an image of a mother
We are dear and familiar
So dear and familiar is your image
My earth!
In a green summer dress
You catch the sun of the next day
Dear, what a happiness
That you are always with me and for me!

* * *

I found out that I have
There is a huge relative:
And the path, And the forest,
In the field - everyone
Spikelet
Rivers
The sky above me
This is all mine, dear!

* * *

What is my homeland called?
I ask myself a question.
The river that winds behind the houses
Or a bush of curly red roses?
Is that autumn birch over there?
Or spring drops?
Or maybe a rainbow strip?
Or a frosty winter day?
All that has been around since childhood?
But it will become all nonsense
Without mother’s care, dear,
And without friends, everything is wrong for me.
That’s what the Motherland is called!
To be near always
All who support will smile
Who needs me too!

* * *

On a wide expanse
Before dawn
Got scarlet dawns
Over the native country.
Every year more and more beautiful
Dear edges ...
Better Our Homeland
Not in the world, friends!

* * *

I'll take a pencil, draw a house
I will draw the sky and the sun above it.
To keep warm those who live in the house,
I will draw a pipe, smoke curls from it.
I'll take a pencil, draw flowers
I will draw bushes and trees around.
So that there is forever freshness in this garden,
I will draw rain from caring hands.
I'll take a pencil, draw a forest
I will draw the fields and the river snake.
For peace and rest to be on this Earth,
I’ll draw a dove flying in the sky.

You read a verse about the homeland. You can find poems for children of different classes. A small part of the works is for the youngest children. Poems about the motherland and Russia can be found by keyword.