Poems about spring for children:
37 poems for children of different ages, video for children, word drawing based on poems about spring.
In this article you will find a selection of poems about spring for children in sections:
- for the little ones (2-4 years),
- for children 4-5 years old,
- for older preschoolers and younger schoolchildren (poems about spring for children over 5 years old).
The article also contains a video with poetry and classical music, pictures and assignments. I wish you a fascinating journey into the world of poetry with your children!
And I want to start the article with a short video lesson for preschoolers on the topic “Poems about Spring” from my favorite Orthodox TV channel for children, “My Joy”. Together with the cheerful little animals from the magical Shishkin Forest, children will listen to F. Tyutchev’s poems about spring, “It’s not for nothing that Winter is angry.”
Poems about spring for children: for the little ones (2-4 years)
V. Berestov. sparrows
What are the sparrows singing about On the last day of winter We survived! We survived! We are alive! We are alive!
I. Tokmakova. Spring
Spring is coming towards us with quick steps, and the snowdrifts are melting under her feet. Black thawed patches are visible in the fields. Apparently, spring has very warm feet.
E. Moshkovskaya. The finch has warmed up
Chaffinch: - Ping! Ping! Ping! Take off your fur coat! Throw it off! Throw it off! - The finch is singing - The finch is warming up!
A. Barto. Sparrow
A sparrow jumps and spins in a puddle. He ruffled his feathers and fluffed his tail. Good weather! Chiv-chiv-chil!
Poems about spring for children: 4-5 years old
M. Karim. Come on over!
Dear starling bird, come at last! I built a house for you - Not a birdhouse, but a palace!
S. Drozhzhin. Martin
The Blue-winged Swallow Builds a nest under my window - And sings to itself, It pours out, Glorifying the red spring, And from the dawn Until the evening I would listen to Her, I can’t hear enough, About my life Without the warmth of the nest On the side of someone else, Remembering.
A. Barto. The starlings have arrived
A tall maple tree awaits guests - The house on the branch is fortified.
The roof is painted, There is a porch for singers... In the blue sky, a chirping can be heard. A family of starlings is flying towards us.
We got up early today, We were waiting for the birds yesterday. Security guards walk around the yard, chasing cats out of the yard.
We wave our hands to the starlings, drum and sing: - Live in our house! You will feel good in it!
The birds began to approach, They flew to the yard, We couldn’t resist, They shouted in unison: “Hurray!”
Amazing thing: The whole family flew away!
A. Maikov. Martin
A swallow rushed in from across the White Sea, sat down and sang: “Like, February, don’t be angry, Like you, March, don’t frown, Be it snow or rain - Everything smells like spring!”
G. Sapgir. Gifts of spring
What, Spring, have you brought? And spring answered: - I brought you, guys, Watering cans, rakes And shovels, The first snowdrops, Yellow birdhouses. I brought you rooks, and starlings and finches. And any stream carries a whole fleet of boats. And I also brought a lot of light and warmth, Jumping games and tag, New counting rhymes. All the guys were surprised: Sticky buds in the forest, Grass at the edge of the forest, And Masha has the first freckles on her nose.
T. Coty. Two bouquets
It is very good to compare two still lifes with your child - spring and autumn - and find the difference. And then read this poem:
The first flowers of spring are more beautiful than snowy whiteness. Reflect the color of heaven, Mother of pearl, wonderful. In this color - clouds, Turquoise river, Pinkish, gentle light - A bouquet of snowdrops!
There is an autumn bouquet on the table, It does not look like a spring one. The colors of autumn are different, Like the sun, golden, Red, crimson, Like dawn, rosy.
V. Lunin. Spring
Before reading the poem, ask your child to draw a spring picture with words. What would he depict on it if he were an artist? What if we imagine that spring is an artist? What will she draw? After verbal drawing, read to your child a poem by V. Lunin about spring - the artist.
Having awakened from sleep, with a soft brush spring paints buds on the branches, in the fields - chains of rooks, above the revived foliage - the first stroke of a thunderstorm, and in the shadow of the transparent garden - a lilac bush near the fence.
E. Blaginina. Crane
The crane has flown to the old places: The grass-ant is thick and thick! Willow tree over the creek Sad, sad! And the water in the creek is pure and pure! And the dawn over the willow tree is clear! Fun for the crane: Spring is spring!
I. Belousov. Spring guest
Dear songbird, dear swallow, has returned to our home from a foreign land. It curls under the window with a lively song: “I brought spring and the sun with me...”
G. Ladonshchikov. Spring song
The drops had not yet died, The stream on the pavement was ringing, When the cheerful starlings flew home from warm countries.
Alyonka and Alyoshka were squinting from the sun in their sleep, when the starling above their window suddenly sang a song about spring.
He glorified the clear day of April, his dear birdhouse, and poured out trills so skillfully that not even a nightingale could do it.
Having quietly opened the window, the guys listened to the starling. The cat also listened to the singer, sitting with the kitten on the porch.
G. Ladonshchikov. The chicks are returning
From the midday rays a stream ran down the mountain, and a small snowdrop grew in a thawed patch. The starlings are returning - hard workers and singers, sparrows by the puddle circling in a noisy flock. Both the robin and the blackbird are busy making nests: They carry, they carry to their houses the Birds, each with a straw.
R. Sef. Facing spring
Slowly the snow melted, Turned black and melted, It’s good for everyone in the world: In the grove - for flocks of birds, In the trees - for Petals, sticky and fragrant, In the blue sky - for clouds, Light and flying. Best of all in the world for me: Along a damp path I run, Face to spring, Having wet my Shoes.
If the birds can't sleep, it means spring has come to us
Poems about spring for children 5-6 years old
April! April!
April! April! Drops are ringing in the yard. Streams run through the fields, There are puddles on the roads. The ants will soon come out after the winter cold. A bear makes his way through the thick dead wood. The birds began to sing songs and the snowdrop blossomed. Samuel Marshak
May
Green, red, Bright May, Take off the guys' coats, Dress the trees in leaves, Ring the streams all day long! Wherever I go in May, I will find the sun everywhere! S. Kaputikyan
Crane
The crane has flown to the old places: The grass-ant is thick and thick! Willow tree over the creek Sad, sad! And the water in the creek is pure and pure! And the dawn over the willow tree is clear! Fun for the crane: Spring is spring! E. Blaginina
Spring has come to us
If the snow is melting everywhere, The day is getting longer, If everything is green and the stream is ringing in the fields, If the sun is shining brighter, If the birds are unable to sleep, If the wind has become warmer, It means spring has come to us. E. Karganova
Scattered winter
There are still bare trees all around, and cheerful drops are dripping from the roof.
Winter ran away somewhere in a panic and turned on the taps very poorly. V. Orlov
Slide
The ice slide is crying under the spring rays: - What is it? I'm melting, I'm melting! I want to stay with you!
Children, children, help, I would like to hide from the sun! Don't you want to go sledding in the summer? S. Zernes
Day and night
Night in winter is like a black cat, Day is like a gray mouse, But spring, spring is coming, Brightly, loudly dripping from the roofs. The frost cannot contain the noisy joy of the streams, the birds began to fly in, the chirping of the sparrows was louder. Darkness and silence disappear, And now it’s the other way around: Night is like a gray mouse, Day is a big, shiny cat. P. Solovyova
After the flood
The rains have passed, April is getting warmer, There is fog all night, and in the morning the spring air seems to grow fainter and turns blue with a soft haze In distant clearings in the forest. And the green forest quietly slumbers, And in the silver of the forest lakes Its columns are even slimmer, The crowns of pines are even fresher And the patterns of delicate larches! I. Bunin
Spring clock
Bales, bales, bales, bales - a cheerful ringing is heard. This is a spring watch I started under the roof.
Bales, bales, bales, bales - the drops keep count. The geese arrived at the nesting sites right on time.
And the streams make noise for me On the spring stitch: - Go out, baby, for a walk! Put on your boots! T. Dmitriev
Spring has come to the dacha again. The sun is rejoicing. The day has grown. And only the icicles cry, Regretting the winter and frost. Boris Zakhoder
Poems about spring for children: 5-7 years and older
Spring news. O. Belyaevskaya
- Have you heard, The drops were ringing, That gray blizzards will no longer circle over the field?
- We heard, we heard! - The streams answered And the valleys ran from the mountains to wake up.
- Have you heard, Plains, Valleys, That a caravan of cranes is flying from the south, That the cries of rooks can already be heard in the grove?
- We heard, we heard the Rook’s hubbub yesterday over the top of the old mountain ash tree in the radiance of the sunset rays.
To the news of spring, Sensitive Ears Under the melted snow, the foliage perked up, On the first thawed patch of the snowy hill, the dream grass rose in silver color.
G. Ladonshchikov. In the April forest
It’s good in the forest in April: It smells like deciduous scents, Various birds sing, They build nests in the trees; In the meadows the lungwort strives to come out to the sun, among the grasses the morels raise their caps; The buds of the branches swell, the leaves break through, the ants begin to straighten out their palaces.
A. Pleshcheev. Country song
The grass is turning green, the sun is shining; A swallow flies towards us in the canopy with spring. With her the sun is more beautiful And spring is sweeter... Chirp from the road Greetings to us soon! I’ll give you grains, and you sing a song that you brought with you from distant lands...
G. Derzhavin. Nightingale
On a hill, through a green grove, At the shine of a bright stream, Under the shelter of a quiet May night In the distance I hear a nightingale. On the light, fragrant winds, now its whistle, now its ringing flies, now it is drowned out by the noise of the water, it languishes with a sweet sigh...
A. Fet. Spring rain
It’s still light in front of the window, The sun shines through the gaps in the clouds, And a sparrow flutters with its wing, bathing in the sand.
And from heaven to earth, the curtain moves, swaying, and as if in golden dust, the edge of the forest stands behind it.
Two drops splashed onto the glass, the linden trees smelled like fragrant honey, and something approached the garden, drumming on the fresh leaves.
Listen to an artistic reading of this poem:
S. Drozhzhin. Everything turned green
Everything has turned green... The sun is shining, the lark's song is flowing and ringing.
Rain clouds roam in the sky, And the river quietly splashes on the shore.
Having fun with a horse A young plowman rides out into the field and walks in the furrow.
And above him the Sun rises higher and higher, the Lark sings a song of joy.
V. Zhukovsky. Lark
In the sun the dark forest glowed, in the valley thin steam whitens, and a clear lark sang an early song in the azure. He sings loudly from above, sparkling in the sun: Young spring has come to us, I sing here the coming of spring. It’s so easy for me here, so welcoming, so boundless, so airy; I see God's whole world here. And my song praises God!
Verbal drawing with children based on this poem:
In the 19th century - early 20th century, when children heard the singing of larks, teachers asked them to tell them in their native speech what the lark sees from above, imagine what he sings about, imagine the mood in which the poet wrote the poem. The technique of “verbal drawing” was very actively used.
This is a very subtle work with words, and I want to quote how children spoke and wrote then!
Teachers of the early 20th century had a very keen sense of the nature of the child. They emphasized that discussion of a poem with children should not be reduced to its retelling, and even more so to grammatical exercises on sentences from the poem. The emphasis should be on the emotional artistic image and how the child experiences it.
Let's move back to the beginning of the 20th century and hear what teachers say to us - teachers and parents of the beginning of the 21st century:
From the book by E.I. Tikheeva “Native speech and ways to its development” of the early 20th century (I quote from the 1923 edition) - from the archives:
“Poems provide special services in so-called oral drawing... The goal... is the following: to evoke in children in one way or another a certain, as vivid as possible, visual image and force them to depict this image, to draw it in words...
Suppose the children are read Zhukovsky’s poem “The Lark”: “The dark forest began to glow in the sun”... They are asked to concentrate and imagine the picture of nature that could have inspired Zhukovsky to write this poem. In this case, the peculiarities of the imagination of this or that child, the predominance of reproductive or creative imagination in him, usually clearly appear. One sketches in words or on paper only those details of the picture that are noted by the author, without adding anything of his own. Another embroiders on this canvas with his own creative imagination, bringing in many new details he created. Any freedom of imagination that does not contradict reality, logic and common sense is completely acceptable.
Works completed by children (my note – primary school children):
1) (Predominance of reproductive imagination):
“Big field. The forest darkens in the distance. It is illuminated by the rays of the rising sun, and therefore appears red. On one side of the field, below, a strip of fog is visible. The sky is clear, blue, and a moving black dot is visible in it: this is a flying lark; his wings sparkle in the sun.”
2) (Creative imagination): “I went out into the field at dawn. It was a luxurious morning. The sun rose and flooded the forest with its crimson rays, which could be seen in the distance, beyond the field, the distant village and the road, winding between the green fields and getting lost in the distance. To the right, in the hollow, the fog obscured the distance and rose in clouds to the sky, which was soft blue with a pink tint. Cirrus clouds, colored dark pink, floated across the sky. I began to look at the sky and noticed against its background some point that changed place and sparkled like a braid in the sun. I guessed it was a lark. This was confirmed by the wondrous song that flowed from above.”
Both are completely independent works, created only on occasion, under the impression of a famous poem. The first represents a photographically accurate verbal reproduction of the visual image evoked by Zhukovsky. The second expands and complements this image, introducing the personal, active beginning of its author. Children who have at least some knowledge of a pencil or paints can be asked to illustrate their work with a corresponding picture.”
Pay attention to the writings of children of the early 20th century. How many modern children, who are intensively “developed” from the cradle, can write such an essay at the age of 6-8? How many people can fantasize like that? And this is not a natural given, but a consequence of the fact that in each age period there is a main thing in development. And in preschool age, this is not the development of reading or the ability to count, but the development of imaginative thinking, play, creative imagination, and the ability to interact with people.
And one more thing - an adult reads a poem not because “it is necessary to develop a child,” but because he himself is interested in it, the adult himself also tries to see, imagine and feel this picture and the mood of the poet. This point is also very important and is often violated now when we try to “shove linguistic terms into a child” instead of revealing to him the Human World and Human Culture.
A. Blok. Crow
Here is a crow on a sloping roof, and has remained shaggy since the winter...
And already in the air there are spring bells, Even the crow’s spirit is occupied...
Suddenly she jumped to the side with a stupid leap, She looked down at the ground sideways:
What is white under the tender grass? There they turn yellow under the gray bench
Last year's wet shavings... These are all the crow's toys,
And the crow is so happy that it’s spring, and she can breathe freely!..
A. Pleshcheev. The snow is already melting, the streams are flowing...
The snow is already melting, streams are running, Spring is blowing through the window... Soon the nightingales will whistle, And the forest will be dressed in leaves! The azure of the sky is pure, the sun has become warmer and brighter, the time of evil blizzards and storms has passed again for a long time. And my heart is beating so hard in my chest, as if it’s waiting for something, As if happiness is ahead And the winter has taken away my worries! All faces look cheerful. “Spring!” - you read in every glance; And he, like a holiday, is happy about her, Whose life is only hard work and grief. But the sonorous laughter of playful children and the singing of carefree birds tell me who loves renewal more than anyone else in Nature!
A. Fet. The willow is all fragrant
The willow is all fluffy and spread out all around; Again the fragrant spring blew its wings.
The clouds are rushing around the village, Warmly illuminated, And captivating dreams are asking to enter the soul again.
Everywhere the gaze is occupied by a varied picture, an idle crowd of people is noisy, happy about something...
The dream is inflamed by some secret thirst - And spring flies over each soul.
A. Maikov. Go away, gray winter!
Go away, gray winter! The beauties of Spring, the golden chariot, rushes from the heights above!
Should the old, frail one argue with her - the queen of flowers, with a whole army of airy fragrant breezes!
And what noise, what humming, Warm showers and rays, And chirping, and singing!.. Go away quickly!
She has no bow, no arrows, She just smiled - and you, Picking up your white shroud, Crawled into the ravine, into the bushes!..
May they be found in the ravines! Look, swarms of bees are already making noise, And a troop of motley butterflies is flying with a victorious flag!
F. Tyutchev. No wonder winter is angry
It’s not for nothing that winter is angry, its time has passed - Spring is knocking on the window and driving it out of the yard.
And everything began to fuss, Everything forced Winter out - And the larks in the sky Already started ringing the bell.
Winter is still busy and grumbling about Spring. She laughs in her eyes and only makes more noise...
The evil witch went mad and grabbed the snow and let it run away into the beautiful child...
Spring and grief are not enough: I washed my face in the snow, And only became blusher, In defiance of the enemy.
Video on the poem:
F. Tyutchev. Spring thunderstorm
I love the thunderstorm at the beginning of May, when the first thunder of spring, as if frolicking and playing, rumbles in the blue sky.
Young peals thunder, the rain splashes, the dust flies, rain pearls hang, and the sun gilds the threads.
A swift stream runs from the mountain, The din of birds does not remain silent in the forest, And the din of the forest and the noise of the mountains - Everything cheerfully echoes the thunder.
You will say: windy Hebe, Feeding Zeus's eagle, spilled a thunderous cup from the sky, laughing, onto the ground.
F. Tyutchev. Spring waters
The snow is still white in the fields, And in the spring the waters are noisy - They run and wake up the sleepy shore, They run, and shine, and cry...
They say to all ends: “Spring is coming, spring is coming, We are messengers of the young spring, She sent us forward!
Spring is coming, spring is coming, And on the quiet, warm days of May, a rosy, bright round dance crowds cheerfully behind her!..”
Listen with your children to the wonderful music of S. Rachmaninov, which is in tune with this poem.
E. Baratynsky. Spring, spring! How clean the air is!
Spring, spring! how clean the air is! How clear is the sky! He blinds my eyes with his living azure.
Spring, spring! how high on the wings of the breeze, caressing the sun's rays, the clouds fly!
The streams are noisy! the streams are shining! Roaring, the river carries on the triumphant ridge the ice it raised!
The forests are still bare, But in the grove there is a decaying leaf, As before, under my foot And noisy and fragrant.
The invisible lark has soared under the sun and in the bright heights sings a cheerful hymn to spring.
What's wrong with her, what's wrong with my soul? With a stream she is a stream And with a bird she is a bird! Murmurs with him, flies in the sky with her!
Why does the sun and spring make her so happy! Does she rejoice, like the daughter of the elements, at their feast?
What needs! Happy is he who drinks oblivion of thought on it, Whom he, wondrous, will carry far from it!
A. Tolstoy. Cranes
Hurrying across the blue expanses of heaven, Where the eye can barely see us, To familiar places we fly and shout, Weaving in a long chain from afar. We see from above the joyful festival of the earth, Here our road ends, And we circle around, cranes, cranes, We praise the cries of the Lord God!
A. Maikov. Spring
Go away, gray winter! The beauties of Spring, the golden chariot, rushes from the heights above!
Should the old, frail one argue with her - the queen of flowers, with a whole army of airy fragrant breezes!
And what noise, what humming, Warm showers and rays, And chirping, and singing!.. Go away quickly!
She has no bow, no arrows, She just smiled - and you, Picking up your white shroud, Crawled into the ravine, into the bushes!..
May they be found in the ravines! Look, swarms of bees are already making noise, And a troop of motley butterflies is flying with a victorious flag!
A. Pushkin. Driven by spring rays...
Driven by the spring rays, the snow from the surrounding mountains has already fled in muddy streams to the flooded meadows. With a clear smile, nature greets the morning of the year through a dream; The skies are shining blue. Still transparent, the forests seem to be turning green. A bee for a field tribute flies from a wax cell. The valleys are dry and colorful; The herds are noisy, and the nightingale already sang in the silence of the night.
Watch a wonderful video on this poem
I. Bunin. Hollow water is raging...
The hollow water is raging, The noise is both dull and drawn-out. Migrating flocks of rooks scream both cheerfully and importantly.
The black mounds are smoking, And in the morning, in the heated air, Thick white vapors are filled with warmth and light.
And at noon, the puddles under the window spread and sparkle so much that “bunnies” flutter around the hall like a bright sunspot.
Between the round, loose clouds, the sky turns innocently blue, and the gentle sun warms in the calm of barns and courtyards.
Spring, spring! And she's happy about everything. It’s like you’re standing in a state of oblivion and you hear the fresh smell of the garden and the warm smell of melted roofs.
All around, the water gurgles and sparkles, the roosters crow sometimes, and the wind, soft and damp, quietly closes your eyes.
Hello, dear spring!
Poems about spring for preschoolers 6-7 years old to memorize
Spring is coming
In the morning it was sunny and quite warm. A wide lake flowed through the yard. At noon it froze, Winter came again, The lake was covered with a crust of glass.
I split the thin, ringing glass, and the wide lake began to flow again. Passers-by say: “Spring is coming!” And this is me working, breaking the ice. Agniya Barto
Hello Spring!
A spring flower in the new grass squints its tender eye. The goldfinch sat on a green maple twig.
Love the yellow-breasted bird: The heights are in a clear shine, The sun is shining, joy is everywhere, - Hello, dear spring! M. Pozharova
Bird cherry fragrant
The fragrant bird cherry blossomed in spring and the golden branches curled like curls. And satin tassels Under the pearls of dew Burn like the clear earrings of a beautiful maiden. And nearby, near a thawed patch, in the grass between the stones, a small Silver stream runs and flows. S. Yesenin
The grass is turning green
The grass is turning green, the sun is shining; A swallow flies towards us in the canopy with spring. With her the sun is more beautiful And spring is sweeter... Chirp from the road Greetings to us soon! I’ll give you grains, And you sing a song, What from distant lands I brought with you... Alexey Pleshcheev
Colors of spring
Again there is no rest for the streams - Day and night they gurgle in the bushes. The golden sun walks in clear, clear skies. It pours rays onto the forest and meadow And on all the flowers around: Pink, blue, Blue, red, As one - beautiful, Although very different. B. Asanalisa
Facing spring
Slowly the snow melted, Turned black and melted, It’s good for everyone in the world: In the grove - for flocks of birds, In the trees - for Petals, sticky and fragrant, In the blue sky - for clouds, Light and flying. Best of all in the world for me: Along a damp path I run, Face to spring, Having wet my Shoes. R. Seph
in spring
Spring has a lot of work, The rays help her: Talkative streams drive together along the roads,
They melt the snow, break the ice, and warm everything around. The first sleepy beetle crawled out from under the pine needles and blades of grass.
In the thawed area, the golden flowers have bloomed, the buds have swelled, the bumblebees are flying from the nest.
Spring has a lot of worries, But things are going well: The field has become emerald, And the gardens are in bloom. T. Shorygina
Miracles
Spring was walking along the edge of the forest, carrying buckets of rain, she stumbled on a hillock - the buckets overturned.
The drops began to ring and the herons began to scream. The ants got scared: They locked their doors.
Spring did not bring buckets of rain to the village. And the colored rocker fled into the sky and hung over the lake.
Miracles! V. Stepanov
Salute to spring
Thunder struck twelve times and froze to the side. Nature gave the order to salute spring.
An order for the bird cherry to bloom, for the nettle to not be evil. Sweep the paths for the rain with a Silver broom.
So that every bush is melodious, so that all the birds can sing louder, and the sun can come out from behind the clouds and be more fun to warm. Zinaida Alexandrovasource
The loose snow darkens in March, the ice on the window melts. The bunny runs around the desk and on the map on the wall. Samuel Marshak
