The law of meanness: in August you will open a window in a trolley bus, which you will close in December.

Only an unforgettable meeting with you adorned this August.

Our August was wonderful, then why all these squabbles, quarrels? Never repeat it to us again.

Although there is still a whole month of summer left, fun, relaxation and swimming in a warm river, the imminent approach of autumn is already felt in everything. Last weekend, parties with friends, goodbye carefree and summer time.

Best Status:
If you wake up and August is still on the calendar, it means that morning, afternoon and evening will be good.

Only in August there is a feeling of Sunday evening. It seems to be a vacation, but tomorrow I have to study.

Summer in August before lunch, and after - autumn.

It feels like the weather has gone crazy! Throughout August, they wore jackets and sweaters, and in September - in T-shirts and sandals. I wonder what will happen in winter?

In August, you need to walk and have fun as much as possible, because then it’s autumn - you need to study and again you will get bored with homework, lessons, school calls from recess and teachers.

Hmm... The most successful summer in my worthless life... When it was hot, I took exams, when I passed it became cold and wet... I broke up with my boyfriend, missed my admission, broke 4 exercises in 2 months... Ahead of the whole of August, what else will happen?

End of August. The most common question is: “Do you want to go to school?”

August 2, England, London. I'm walking around the city. I think it's good that I'm not in Russia now .... And what would you think? Trafalgar Square: two drunken strong men rush into the fountain shouting “For the Airborne Forces!”

Statuses about August - Judging by the long winter, summer will begin in August ...

August .. the last month of summer .. how I want to extend it .. at least for a minute ..

How many years have I wondered at myself what I was born on August 22 at night - that I couldn’t wait until morning ?!)

No, well, of course, I understand everything ... I'm a loser there, that's all ... But what for heating on August 5?

The roof rolled away to the sea ... I tell her to wait on August 2, we'll go .. And she screams at me: “What are you doing? The study is over, happy to stay”… PPC is bad.

I never thought it would be so February this August.

I want to repeat this summer ... More precisely, August ... Where were we ...

I want to repeat this summer ... more precisely August ... where we were ...

Judging by the long winter, summer will start in August...

I remember how quite recently, here everyone wrote about August 36, the first of September ... And now about the end of the quarter and the first snow ...

Now a lot of schoolchildren will fall on the site, writing about August 32, and about how they don’t want to go to school tomorrow ..

August is such a kind of requiem for summer. By the sun, by carelessness. And then all these last weekends, the same walks with friends. And in the air you still feel that autumn is coming soon.

Did you know that on August 31, it is impossible to make an appointment for a manicure in any beauty salon? All the time before September 1… Reserved by schoolgirls!

The morning is so good and kind. Especially if it’s still August on the calendar, which means more holidays.

March, April, May, kick-ass, July, August… [The student will understand].

August is like a long Sunday: like another weekend, but soon to study!

August prepares pickles for the winter table.

I was rereading my personal diary. “Learn half of the tickets in August!” M yes. Mid-May, and I only know 3 tickets...

June is coming to an end and August is coming soon. And it will end soon. So it will pass, as usual, this summer unnoticed.

In August, before lunch - summer, and after lunch - autumn.

So the summer has passed. August flew by like a comet.. Without love, everything was fine.. But without love, there is no summer. (

In the early August morning, a strange call came to the desk of the officer on duty at the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Belarus. The strange thing was that before that the remote from the TV did not ring.

So the summer has passed, August flew by like a comet .. Everything was fine without love .. but without love there is no summer (

To sleep with his wife, Elnea Berkova's husband signed up for August

I spent most of August in a sweatshirt and jacket. And in September I go to mini and top. People, where is the logic? Summer passed?

August warms the back, cools the chest.

So the summer has passed, August flew by like a comet .. Everything was fine without love .. but without love there is no summer

At first they did not believe in a new ice age. They showed it to us in winter. Then they did not believe in global warming. In the summer they showed it to us. And we did not believe in the harm of passive smoking. In August, we were shown this. What's next?

My August will be jealous and nervously smoking on the sidelines, looking at how I will spend my December

The best month of these holidays was August, since I met you ..

August is the month when it is impossible to open the window on the bus, which could not be closed in December.

It's only August, and I'm already sitting with a heater =))

Let's leave the disputes, insults and reproaches ... we still will never repeat our August ...

August .. the last month of summer .. how I want to extend it .. at least for a minute ..

On August 8, 2008, Georgian troops entered the territory of Ossetia and mercilessly began to kill the entire civilian population. Not sparing even women with children... Let's put this heart in memory of the dead..

August .. the last month of summer .. how I want to extend it .. at least for a minute ..

August is still summer. But at the same time, August is the neighbor of September. I hate August.

I spent most of August in a sweatshirt and jacket. And in September I go to mini and top. People, where is the logic? Summer has moved on?

Let's leave the disputes, insults and reproaches ... we still will never repeat our August ...

In August, summer skips towards autumn.

- Something is cooler today ... Maybe today is August? girl on the street.)

In the early August morning, a strange call came to the desk of the officer on duty at the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Belarus. The strange thing was that before that the remote from the TV did not ring.

August. last month of happiness

If you want more adrenaline, adventure for your ass. Then take part in the gay parade on August 2 ...

I want to repeat this summer ... more precisely August ... where WE were ...

My August will be jealous and nervously smoking on the sidelines, looking at how I will spend my December

The doctor gives me two weeks to live. It would be nice in August.

I never thought it would be so February this August.

August is the month when it is impossible to open the window on the bus, which could not be closed in December.

Even "Friday the 13th" doesn't sound like "August the 31st"

Whoever sleeps in August will go hungry.

In the early August morning, a strange call came to the desk of the officer on duty at the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Belarus. The strange thing was that before that the remote from the TV did not ring.

The best month of these holidays was August, since I met you ..))

August is the month when it is impossible to open the window on the bus, which could not be closed in December.

Are you in Love. Rented through August. How to ruin your summer Fall in love in July.

Grade 1 Grade 2 Grade 3 Grade 4 Grade 5

Cool statuses about August

On the other hand, it's still summer! On the other hand, you can get used to everything ... I think, somewhere by August ... I will no longer be surprised at the snowstorm outside the window.)))

August. One month to spend is like three.

Call me quietly. I will hear. In the middle of August and the whisper of rain. Drops fall, lightly knock on the roof - I can still feel you! Say a name quietly. I will hear. Through the storm and through the murmur of the stream. The foliage will tell me this is barely audible. I still feel you.

June is coming to an end and August is coming soon. And it will end soon. So it will pass, as usual, this summer unnoticed.

So the summer has passed, August flew by like a comet... Without love, everything was fine... but without love, there is no summer.

August is like Sunday evening.

And only in the last days of August you realize that in June it was great too...

August is the month when it is impossible to open the window on the bus, which could not be closed in December.

It's only August, and I'm already sitting with a heater. =))

March, April, May, kick-ass, July, August... The student will understand.

Three reasons why children love school - June, July, August.

August is like a long Sunday: like another weekend, but soon to study!

Whoever sleeps in August will go hungry.

I never thought it would be so February this August.

The morning is so good and kind. Especially if the calendar is still in August, which means more holidays.

August prepares pickles for the winter table.

Let's leave the disputes, insults and reproaches ... we still will not repeat our August ever ...

I spent most of August in a sweatshirt and jacket. And in September I go to mini and top. People, where is the logic? Summer has moved on?

The last month of summer, we walk until dawn!

I want to repeat this summer ... more precisely August ... where we were ...

August warms the back, cools the chest.

August 2, England, London. I'm walking around the city. I think it's good that I'm not in Russia now... And what would you think? Trafalgar Square: two drunken strong men rush into the fountain shouting: “For the Airborne Forces!”

I remember this summer only on August 31st. The happiest day.))) He loves me!

My August will be jealous and nervously smoking on the sidelines, looking at how I will spend my December.

The best month of these holidays was August, since I met you...

Cool statuses about August

The best statuses about August

August is such a kind of requiem for summer. By the sun, by carelessness. And then all these last weekends, the same walks with friends. And in the air you still feel that autumn is coming soon.

August is the last month of happiness.

The roof rolled away to the sea ... I told her: “Wait a minute, we’ll go on August 2 ...” And she screams at me: “What are you doing? The study is over, happy to stay "... PPC, bad.

In August, summer skips towards autumn.

Someone wrote: "Everyone since August 69 ..." - people face the truth, today is October 8!

No, well, of course, I understand everything ... I'm a loser there, that's all ... But what for heating on August 5?

Judging by the long winter, summer will start in August...

August, of course, is still summer. But at the same time, August is the neighbor of September. I hate August.

In August, before lunch - summer, and after lunch - autumn.

Now a lot of shkolota will fall on the site, writing about August 32, and about how they don’t want to go to school tomorrow ...

In the early August morning, a strange call came to the desk of the officer on duty at the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Belarus. The strange thing was that before that the remote from the TV did not ring.

In August, sadness for the summer begins - they haven’t spent it yet, but parting is already inevitable.

August... the last month of summer... how you want to extend it... even for a minute...

And August is hot, and the days are long - but still autumn is ahead.

In August, it doesn't matter what day of the week it is.

The morning is kind and gentle only in August - because there are still holidays.

Popular Sakhalin sign: if the snow does not come down by August, the summer will be short!

I want there to be three months in a year: June will last 121 days, July - 122 and August - 122.)))

Tomorrow August is the last thick glass of summer.

August days are like beer: no matter how much you take, it still ends quickly.

Even "Friday the 13th" doesn't sound like "August the 31st".

End of August. The most common question: “Do you want to go to school?”

On August 8, 2008, Georgian troops entered the territory of Ossetia and mercilessly began to kill the entire civilian population. Not sparing even women with children... Let's put this heart in memory of the dead...

I want it to always be like this: May, June, July, July, July, July, July, August ... =)))

Summer is like a weekend. Just as beautiful, and just as fast. June is Friday, July is Saturday, August is Sunday.

August is still full summer. And the feeling is as if it has long been behind and we are already in autumn, but you are only waiting for yellow leaves, autumn air and fogs ...

Cool statuses about August

The best statuses about August

Today you live in early June, and tomorrow it will be the end of August. Summer always flies faster than other seasons.

I want a second round again. June. July. August.

They only loved summer. They froze, but did not give up. It was the 124th of August outside...

I will leave August a little in love with me ... But every day given by fate, I remember with a smile and hope. I do not say goodbye forever to you, and I believe we will see each other as before!

In April - we took a break, and in May we will get off ... Well, in "June-August" - we enjoy the summer ... :)))

So another summer has sunk into oblivion, and so you want to wrap yourself in the warm blanket of August again ...

People, it's already August! Wake up! Only a month left, let's do what would be remembered forever this summer!

How clear is Augustus, gentle and calm, aware of the transience of beauty. Having gilded the sheets of wood, he arranged the feelings in a slender order.

Well, yes, of course, it was a wonderful summer ... and here is August, and, as always, we did not understand anything. Because time flies so fast.

Announcement at the entrance: “Dear residents! hot water will be turned off from August 21 to September 1”... This summer cannot even end normally!

Great about verses:

Poetry is like painting: one work will captivate you more if you look at it closely, and another if you move further away.

Little cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of unoiled wheels.

The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which has broken.

Marina Tsvetaeva

Of all the arts, poetry is most tempted to replace its own peculiar beauty with stolen glitter.

Humboldt W.

Poems succeed if they are created with spiritual clarity.

The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.

If only you knew from what rubbish Poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion near a fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.

A. A. Akhmatova

Poetry is not in verses alone: ​​it is spilled everywhere, it is around us. Take a look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life breathe from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.

I. S. Turgenev

For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.

G. Lichtenberg

A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing inside us. Telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He is a wizard. Understanding him, we become poets like him.

Where graceful verses flow, there is no place for vainglory.

Murasaki Shikibu

I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin

- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! the visitor asked pleadingly.
I promise and I swear! - solemnly said Ivan ...

Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "The Master and Margarita"

We all write poetry; poets differ from the rest only in that they write them with words.

John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"

Every poem is a veil stretched out on the points of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.

Alexander Alexandrovich Blok

The poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times, a whole Universe is certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for someone who inadvertently wakes dormant lines.

Max Fry. "The Talking Dead"

To one of my clumsy hippos-poems, I attached such a heavenly tail: ...

Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea and not a plague!

Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore drive away critics. They are but miserable drinkers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let the verses seem to him an absurd lowing, a chaotic jumble of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from tedious reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.

Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"

Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing but pure poetry that has rejected the word.

August day. The windows on the bus are battened down as usual, but you can't close them in winter.

Why argue today? Happy August is over. Mutual insults, absurd reproaches are meaningless now!

For too long, winter does not lose ground, apparently, summer should be expected only in August.

Usually a classmate who has something to write in an essay about how his summer holidays went, everyone else is not sickly jealous.

On the second of August I move one of the streets of London and think: it’s good that I am now in England, and not in Russia. And then I see the following picture with my own eyes. Two drunken thugs rush along Trafalgar Square in the direction of the fountain and shout: “For the Airborne Forces!”

June is coming to an end, on the threshold - August, a very short month. And the summer usually flies by, you don't have time to look back.

August ends summer. If only for a moment this month would be extended.

August morning, still quite early. They called the desk of the officer on duty at the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Republic of Belarus. This was rather unusual since the TV remote had previously not received calls.

The past August will die of envy, restless smoking on the side and watching how fun I will be in December.

Read the continuation of the quotes on the pages:

The morning is kind and gentle only in August - because there are still holidays.

August warms the back, cools the chest.

In August, it doesn't matter what day of the week it is.

And August is hot, and the days are long - but still autumn is ahead.

XXX: what are your plans for august? YYY: Napoleonic XXX: Decided to run away from Russia?

On August 8, 2008, Georgian troops entered the territory of Ossetia and mercilessly began to kill the entire civilian population. Not sparing even women with children... Let's put this heart in memory of the dead..

In the summer it is even a pity to sleep - when it will still be so warm all day and night.

I never thought it would be so February this August.

Are you in Love. Rented through August. How to ruin your summer Fall in love in July.

Something is cooler today ... Maybe today is August? girl on the street.)

In the summer you do not want anything else - except for the summer itself.

The roof rolled away to the sea ... I tell her to wait on August 2, we'll go .. And she screams at me: “What are you doing? The study is over, happy to stay”… PPC is bad.

I remember how quite recently, here everyone wrote about August 36, the first of September ... And now about the end of the quarter and the first snow ...

What strange windows in the bus - you won’t open it in August, you won’t close it in January.

To sleep with his wife, Elnea Berkova's husband signed up for August

At first they did not believe in a new ice age. They showed it to us in winter. Then they did not believe in global warming. In the summer they showed it to us. And we did not believe in the harm of passive smoking. In August, we were shown this. What's next?

Summer ends with open dresses.

March, April, May, kick-ass, July, August… [The student will understand].

August days are like beer: no matter how much you take, it still ends quickly.

Let's leave the disputes, resentments and reproaches ... anyway, we will never repeat our August ... Save to the wall

August prepares pickles for the winter table.

I want to repeat this summer ... More precisely, August ... Where were we ...

End of August. The most common question is: “Do you want to go to school?”

Love is transferred to the night - it is very hot during the day.

Dreams of summer will heal any sadness - dream more often.

In August, sadness for the summer begins - they haven’t spent it yet, but parting is already inevitable.

Let's leave the disputes, insults and reproaches ... we still will never repeat our August ...

Summer will repeat again - but love has passed forever.

Even "Friday the 13th" doesn't sound like "August the 31st"

In summer everyone complains about the heat, in winter - about the cold. How else does nature tolerate us?

I want to repeat this summer ... more precisely August ... where we were ...

August is like a long Sunday: like another weekend, but soon to study!

Tomorrow August is the last thick glass of summer.

Whoever sleeps in August will go hungry.

What are three reasons why you love school? - June July August!

August is still summer. But at the same time, August is the neighbor of September. I hate August.

The best month of these holidays was August, since I met you ..))

August. last month of happiness

It's only August, and I'm already sitting with a heater =))

In August, before lunch - summer, and after lunch - autumn.

The first cool night at the end of summer - winter will come, although we do not call it.

Starfall is a time to make wishes and wait for happiness.

So the summer has passed. August flew by like a comet.. Without love, everything was fine.. But without love, there is no summer. (

The best month of these holidays was August, since I met you ..

In August, summer skips towards autumn.

August and Sunday evening have something in common.

Hmm... The most successful summer in my worthless life... When it was hot, I took exams, when I passed it became cold and wet... I broke up with my boyfriend, missed my admission, broke 4 exercises in 2 months... Ahead of the whole of August, what else will happen?

Now a lot of schoolchildren will fall on the site, writing about August 32, and about how they don’t want to go to school tomorrow ..

August .. the last month of summer .. how I want to extend it .. at least for a minute ..

August is the month when it is impossible to open the window on the bus, which could not be closed in December.

I spent most of August in a sweatshirt and jacket. And in September I go to mini and top. People, where is the logic? Summer passed?

In the summer, idleness has an excuse - the heat.

So the summer has passed, August flew by like a comet .. Everything was fine without love .. but without love there is no summer (

I want to repeat this summer ... more precisely August ... where WE were ... Save to the wall

No, well, of course, I understand everything ... I'm a loser there, that's all ... But what for heating on August 5?

The doctor gives me two weeks to live. It would be nice in August.

Summer can be arranged for yourself at any time of the year - there would be money.

>>> Poems about August

**** The summer was showered with crimson poppies, Faded in a moment, like fires of delight, Faded in the fields with scorched cereals ... Quiet days of August Scattered, Broken apples with sad balls, Forgotten beads of forest berries. **** (L. Kim) The last month of summer is August, It's time to harvest in the dachas, And start preparing containers for mushrooms. But, it's sad to fly to say goodbye. The last month of summer outside the window, It gives us warmth, chirps with the breeze, And our whole house is in multi-colored asters, And the wet rain drizzles more often. **** (S. Kozlov) August, August! The zucchini lay down on the side of the bed, And the goby lay down in the shade, And the clouds ran somewhere in the distance, and the river winds ... But something is very sorry. **** (F.G. Lorca) August. Peaches and candied fruits And mowing in honey dew. The sun enters the sunset amber, Like a stone in an apricot. And the cob secretly laughs With yellow laughter, like the summer heat. August again. And the children are sweet Swarthy bread with a ripe moon.

**** (T. Shorygina) August is not tired, Looking into all the gardens, He collects Golden fruits in baskets. Pears, apples, raspberries. Tilting the branches, it tears, And thick fragrant honey pours into casks and jugs. **** (N. Aseev) So the summer is ending, The flowers are glowing furiously, The light is becoming less, The coming of darkness is closer. But - not subject to darkness, Having absorbed the rays of the sun - We will still be clear, Sincere and hot! **** (M. Sadovsky) August bows at his feet, August asks for help: Harvest! Garden and field - over the edge! There is no rescue! For the rescue Spas! The harvest is ripe, just right! >>> Samuil Marshak **** Harvest fruits in August. A lot of joy to people After all the labors. The sun is above the spacious fields. And the sunflower is stuffed with black grains.

**** August - wheat ripened, August - fruits ripened. In August new birds sing Songs from on high. August is cheerful and brave, August can fly. He learned to play the violin at the Forest Queen.

www.stihomaniya.ru

Poems about August

August is still a summer month, but, alas, it is the last one among summer months. Perhaps that is why the poems about August are a little sad. And one can feel in these verses the imminent coming of autumn and prolonged rains.

And yet, August is the last warm time of the year, when you can still enjoy swimming in the nearest pond, and the first ripe apples.

Therefore, poems about August are unique and inimitable.

Twelve brothers.

August

M. Sadovsky

August bows at his feet, August asks for help: Harvest! Garden and field - over the edge! There is no rescue! For the rescue Spas!

The harvest is ripe, just right!

Well, you, August...

A. Borisov

Well, you, August, rain on us day after day? We grew up over the summer, August, did you notice this? Why are you dripping again, You see, we are going for a walk! We go to sleep - it's drizzling,

Get up - the curtain hangs ...

Sounds of wet pavement From the street hurry home. Rich in a ringing whisper,

Look, taxis are like frogs.

The rustle of tires. The bus stopped. He creaked open the doors. People are jumping on the beach.

The sidewalk is now a jetty.

Russula and mushrooms, Ryzhiki, mossiness mushrooms, - Umbrellas play hide and seek,

Trucks are rolling...

... Circles run up In long puddles. Dear August, help, Walking somewhere in the rain

Our summer is gone...

The last month of summer is August, It's time to harvest at the dachas, And start preparing containers for mushrooms. But, it's sad to fly to say goodbye. The last month of summer outside the window, It gives us warmth, chirps with the breeze, And our whole house is in multi-colored asters,

And wet rain drizzles more often.

All year round. August.

S. Marshak

Harvest fruits in August. A lot of joy to people After all the labors. The sun stands over the spacious fields And the sunflower grains

Filled with black.

August - the wheat ripened, August - the fruits ripened. In August new birds sing Songs from on high. August is cheerful and brave, August can fly. He is with the forest queen

Learned to play the violin

E. Kabanova

Summer. August. The sun is shining. And the playful breeze shakes a little, without noticing

White butterflies, flower.

The lilies swayed. The breeze whispers in the forest: “Autumn is coming, dear,

I'll bring you."

Birches suddenly rustled: “Don’t scare everyone in a row. Ready for October

There will be an autumn outfit.

Summer. August. Sun circle. And the grasshoppers are chirping. But it's flying south

School of wild ducks.

Y. Mityakov.

T. Kersten

August, August - children joy!

Let's go for a walk in the summer forest.

There raspberries ripe sweetness

How many juicy berries did you eat

And they took the mushrooms home!

... We didn’t have time to look back,

How did the holidays go?

N. Firefly

August sends gifts to everyone.

I. Gorbacheva

Here is August. Do not be sad! Is it raining outside? This summer sheds tears, In August it will go away. Sad? I know, don't be sad! Indian summer ahead! Summer is coming to an end, Rain is pouring from the sky. The sun is hiding behind a cloud, take an umbrella just in case! Anyway, don't be sad! The sky will pour out all the rains, It will stop crying, The slush will dry up on the path. Quietly autumn entered the forest, Enveloped it with Beauty. Waves noisily to us with the winds: - Wait for the winter with snow! Sad? I know, don't be sad! Indian summer ahead! We will run away with you into the forest, How many miracles there are in it! The trees changed their outfit, the branches lowered their leaves. So the time has begun, Listopadov! The beauty! Smile, stay in the forest.

August is a golden month!

August

E. Bondareva He will still pass through the steppes with groves, He will taste the berries in the forest, He responds with good songs,

He will drink ripe dew from the leaves.

In the bins covered with grain.

If it were not for the leaf in the calendar.

Yu.Mityakov

August smells like autumn, although it is still warm - the Sun does not spare light for the nature. But the rainy time has come, The sunny summer has gathered in a distant land. Although in the midst of the game of noisy children, Rain and bad weather do not give respite. The first bonfires are already smoking somewhere And yellow leaves are flying from the trees. August is a summer month, a ripe harvest. Let's stock up on vegetables and bread for the winter. Soon we will hear the sounds of bird flocks

And with longing we will find them in the leaden sky.

detochki-doma.ru

Poems about August

Hot August dressed up (Ekaterina Baletskaya)

Hot August dressed up with many fruits of gardens. Giving gifts generously

Pleased with the play of colors.

In anticipation of the coolness of Naughty September. full of bravado

Weary earth.

Thirsts for lopsided downpours, Dark, windy nights And not far off September,

Fading rays.

Masquerade of marvelous colors From burgundy to amber. Wedges in the sky of cranes Leaving the edge.

August, you are the last month of summer (Andrey Shalamov)

August, August, you are the last month of summer, soon autumn We will replace the word "summer" with "autumn, golden", And quietly gray will climb into the green trees

In a red-yellow drape Khokhloma painted.

All the birches will turn yellow, the aspens will turn red, The maple will dress up with crimson foliage for the ball, The forest will become unique, beautiful in autumn, The queen of autumn will come to us - bright leaves carnival.

August (T. Kersten)

August, August - children joy! Let's go for a walk in the summer forest. There raspberries ripe sweetness

How many juicy berries have been eaten And mushrooms have been taken home! ... We didn't have time to look back, How the holidays passed.

August (A. Borisov)

Well, you, August, rain on us day after day? We grew up over the summer, August, did you notice that? Why are you dripping again, You see, we are going for a walk! We go to bed - it's drizzling, We get up - the curtain hangs ... Sounds of wet pavement From the street they rush home. Ringing whisper rich, Look, taxis are like frogs. The rustle of tires. The bus stopped. He creaked open the doors. People are jumping on the beach. The sidewalk is now a jetty. Russula and mushrooms, Ryzhiki, mossiness mushrooms, - Umbrellas play hide and seek, Trucks champ ... Circles scatter In long puddles. Dear August, help, Walking somewhere in the rain

Our summer is gone...

August is coming (A. Vyatsky)

August is coming, He rewards all people. For feasible works, He gives all of us fruits. Harvesting ... Summer-red see off.

August walks through the forest (N. Firefly)

August walks through the forest. Offers gifts to all: Pears, apples, nuts - Red squirrels for fun. Hare a fresh carrot, So that the coward jumped deftly. In the field there is buckwheat for mice, And honey mushrooms for hedgehogs, A harvest of ripe berries - Only substitute buckets! Teddy bear sweet honey -

August sends gifts to everyone.

Summer. August. (E. Kabanova)

Summer. August. The sun is shining. And a playful breeze Slightly shakes, not noticing White butterflies, a flower. The lilies swayed. The breeze whispers in the forest: “Autumn is coming, dear, I will bring it to you.” Birches suddenly rustled: “Don’t scare everyone in a row. Only by October will the outfit be ready for autumn. Summer. August. Sun circle. And the grasshoppers are chirping. But it's flying south

School of wild ducks.

August (Z. Pisman.)

The sea is splashing, the sun is shining. Hot August will greet us. Rest from the heart

Kids are having fun.

August (E. Bondareva)

He will still pass through the steppe groves, Taste the berries in the forest, Resounds with good songs,

He will drink ripe dew from the leaves.

He will get lost in the fields, he will be forgotten And he will fall asleep like a child in a sound sleep. Get up in the morning - and do not stop looking

In the bins covered with grain.

Simply, without a special mark, August appeared in the yard. In the city they would not have noticed him,

If it were not for the leaf in the calendar.

stranakids.ru

Poems by Russian poets about August

Russian poets are also not indifferent to this last summer month, and their poems about August breathe a subtle sadness about the ending summer.

***
"August" How clear is August, gentle and calm, Conscious of the transience of beauty. Gilded wood sheets,

He arranged the feelings in a slender order.

The sultry noon seems to be a mistake in it, Sad dreams are more akin to it, Coolness, the charm of quiet simplicity.

And rest from a hectic life.

For the last time, before the tip of the sickle, the bulk spikes flaunt,

Instead of flowers, fruits of the earth are everywhere.

The sight of a heavy sheaf is gratifying, And a crowd of cranes flies in the sky And sends a cry of "I'm sorry" to their native places.

***
AUGUST

The rays still burn under the vaults of the roads, But there, between the branches, everything is duller and dumber: So the pale player smiles,

It's day behind the curtains. With fog on the ground Slowly dull calls are carried along ... And with it all the stuffy feast, crushed in crystal

Still yesterday's shine, and only the asters are alive ...

Or is it a procession turning white through the sheets? And there the lights tremble under the frosted crown, Tremble and say: “And you? When are you?”

In the copper language of the funeral languor ...

Whether the game is over, whether the tomb has sailed away, But impressions clear up in the heart; Oh, how I understood you: and insinuating warmth,

And the luxury of flower beds, where decay appears ...

***
Summer rolled downhill. August. Quiet days. Putting fogs under your head,

Streams flow quietly.

The Milky Way, like a crawfish claw, Quietly moves towards dawn, Carefully turning,

Gate of slow summer.

Be careful, be careful Veite, winds, above me, So that the newborn month Is not afraid of the darkness of the night.

Come out into the garden... How clear the weather is! How shyly August faded! The elderberry has dissolved the coral, And the amber hawthorn is sluggish.

***
August - asters, August - stars, August - bunches of grapes and mountain ash

Rusty - August!

With a full-bodied, supportive Imperial Apple, You play like a child, August. Like a palm, you stroke the heart with your imperial name:

August! - Heart!

A month of late kisses, Late roses and late lightning! Showers of stars - August! - Month

Showers of stars!

Marina Tsvetaeva. Poems. Poems. Library of Russian Poetry.

St. Petersburg, "Respeks", 1996.

It smells of hay over the meadows... In the song, rejoicing the soul, Women with rakes in rows Walk, stirring the hay.

August He is both righteous and crafty, And he is more terrible of all months: In every August, God is right,

So many holidays and deaths.

Permission of wine and oil... Savior, Dormition... The vault of stars!

Up, like a ladder, he leads.

He pretended to be a magical forest, But he lost his charms. There was hope "healing drink" In the silence of the arctic planks... And now! You, new grief, Strangle my chest like a boa constrictor... And the Black Sea rumbles, Finding my headboard.

August So generously August wasted the stars. He so thoughtlessly set about possession, and the faces of the Rostovites turned

and all southerners - towards their fall.

I kindly thank fate. So the constellations fell on my shoulders, as they fall in an abandoned garden.

lilac untidy inflorescences.

We watched the sunset for a long time, our neighbors were angry with the keys, a musician played the old piano

bowed his sad gray hairs.

We were the sounds of music alone. Oh, it was possible to detun the instrument, but your consonance with me

could not be broken or destroyed.

That autumn, the lighthouses burned so, the stars lay so close, the sailors walked along the boulevards,

and girls in headscarves ran through.

All the same there is a fall of stars and heat, all the same the coast is unchanged. Only two notes, taken at the same time, fell out of the music of one.

The summer days are fading away. Where are the golden rays of summer? Only gray eyebrows move

Only gray curls sway.

This morning, exhausted by bitter fate, I sighed a little: Early, early, ruddy dawn

The window flashed for a moment.

But again this cloudy sky Desperately hung over us, - To know, again, my red sun, You burst into tears, rising!

August (fragment) Hello, August, crowned with hops, Swarthy young satyr! We are carpets under oak stele,

We are preparing a feast in the forest! ..

August is cute! The boy is swarthy! Like us, you are also drunk. It's late afternoon. The round moon Illuminated the circles of the meadows.

***
August I'll dive in September, swim in autumn. And August the driver will be sad. I have two suns - one above, the other in the lake,

And the third thing is necessary - to be here in the chest.

And so quietly, at least in a whisper, At least in the oblivion of midnight dreams, Far away, beyond the snows and swamps,

My angel said my name.

zagorodnaya-life.ru