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All year round. Samuel Marshak
January Open calendar – January begins. In January, in January A lot of snow in the yard. Snow – on the roof, on the porch. The sun in the sky is blue. In our house stoves are heated, Smoke goes to the sky like a pillar.
February The winds blow in February, They whine in the pipes loudly. Snake winds on the ground Easy drifting. Over the Kremlin wall – Planes links. Glory to the army native On the day of her birth!
March Loose snow darkens in March. Ice melts on the window. Bunny runs on the desk and on the map on the wall.
April April, April! In the courtyard the drops are ringing. Streams run across the fields, Puddles on the roads. Ants will be out soon After the winter cold. A bear sneaks through a forest felled forest. The birds began to sing songs, And the snowdrop bloomed.
May Lily of the valley blossomed in May – On the very holiday, on the first day. May, seeing off flowers, Lilacs bloom.
June June came. “June! June! ”- Birds chirp in the garden. Only a dun on a dandelion – And all of it will shatter.
July Haymaking is in July, Thunder grumbles at times somewhere. And ready to leave the hive Young bee swarm.
August We gather in August Fruit harvest. A lot of people joy After all the labors. The sun stands above the spacious Nivas. And sunflower grains Black Nabit.
September On a clear morning of September, the Bread thresh the villages, Birds rush over the seas, And a school opened.
October In October, in October. Frequent rain in the yard. Grass is dead in the meadows, The grasshopper is silent. Firewood is prepared for the winter for stoves.
November November 7th is the red day of the calendar. Look at your window: Everything is red on the street! Flags hoist at the gate, Flaming flame. See, the music goes Where the trams went. All the people – young and old – Celebrates freedom. And my red ball flies Straight to the sky!
December In December, in December. All the trees are in silver. Our river, as if in a fairy tale, For the night cobbled out a frost, Renewed the skates, sleigh, I brought the Christmas tree from the forest. The fir-tree cried at first From house heat, In the morning to cry. Has ceased, Has breathed, has revived. Her needles tremble a little, Lights lit on the branches. As the ladder, on the tree Lights run up. Gold flappers shine. Silver star lit Running to the top of the most daring light.
A year has passed, like yesterday. Above Moscow at this hour They beat the clock of the Kremlin tower His salute – twelve times!