Конспект урока "The immortal poets of the world literature" 9 класс


School gymnasium №1
(Poetry Hour)
Teacher: Mustanova Maral
“The immortal poets of the world literature”
Poetry Hour
Aim : to introduce students with biography and creation of great poets
Abai ,Burns and Byron
to develop students` abilities in speaking and to enlarge their knowledge
to bring up the feelings of respect to culture of other countries and
to cherish their own the cultural heritage .
Equipment: photos of Abai Kunanbaev, Robert Burns and of George Byron,
posters, interactive board slides.
Plan of the party:
1 R. Burns’ life
2 R.Burns’ poems
3 Abai Kunanbev’s life
4 Abai Kunanbev’s works
5 Abai Kunanbev’s “Books of Words”
6 G.Byron’s portrait
7 Concluding words of teacher
The procedure :
Teacher: Dear guests, teachers and students! You are welcome to our party which is called
The immortal poets of world literature “. It is dedicated to great Kazakh poet Abai Kunanbaev and well
known English poets Robert Burns and of George Byron. . We hope you will enjoy it. I hope that all of
you are fond of poetry, that you are read a lot and can write poems. Knowing a foreign language gives us a
chance to exchange information with people from other countries. Naturally we want to know as much as
possible about each other.Today we shall try to remind you some beautiful pieces of poetry written by Abai
Kunanbaev, Robert Burns and of George Byron
There is no man who doesn`t know the names of Abai Burns and Byron. They have left a large heritage
after themselves. They are immortal poets in world literature. Every people cherish their culture and their
famous poets.
Leader: During the party we`ll be introduced with the biographies and creations of Abai, Burns and
Byron. Now we invite you to listen to some facts of Robert Burns’ biography and time when he lived and
worked . Let`s listen to our students
Robert Burns (25 January 1759 21 July 1796) (also known as Rabbie Burns, Scotland's favourite son, the
Ploughman Poet, Robden of Solway Firth, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as simply The Bard)[1][2]
was a Scottish poet and a lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland, and is celebrated
worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language,
Burns was born two miles (3 km) south of Ayr, in Alloway, South Ayrshire, Scotland, the eldest of the seven
children of William Burnes (a self-educated tenant farmer from Dunnottar), and Agnes Broun (or Brownthe
daughter of a tenant farmer from Kirkoswald, South Ayrshire.
He was born in a house built by his father (now the Burns Cottage Museum), where he lived until Easter
1766, when he was seven years old. William Burnes sold the house and took the tenancy of the 70-acre
(280,000 m2) Mount Oliphant farm, southeast of Alloway. Here Burns grew up in poverty and hardship, and
the severe manual labour of the farm left its traces in a premature stoop and a weakened constitution.
He had little regular schooling and got much of his education from his father, who taught his children
reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history
By the age of 15, Burns was the principal labourer at Mount Oliphant. During the harvest of 1774, he was
assisted by Nelly Kilpatrick (17591820), who inspired his first attempt at poetry, O, Once I Lov'd A Bonnie
Lass. In the summer of 1775, he was sent to finish his education with a tutor at Kirkoswald, where he met
Peggy Thompson (b.1762), to whom he wrote two songs, Now Westlin' Winds and I Dream'd I Lay.
Celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult during the 19th and 20th
centuries, and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature. In 2009 he was chosen as the
'Greatest Scot' by the Scottish public in a vote run by Scottish television channel STV.
As well as making original compositions, Burns also collected folk songs from across Scotland, often
revising or adapting them. His poem (and song) Auld Lang Syne is often sung at Hogmanay (the last day of
the year), and Scots WhaHae served for a long time as an unofficial national anthem of the country. Other
poems and songs of Burns that remain well-known across the world today include A Red, Red Rose; A
Man's A Man for A' That; To a Louse; To a Mouse; The Battle of Sherramuir; Tam o' Shanter, and Ae Fond
Kiss.
Robert Burns was initiated into masonic Lodge St David Tarbolton on 4 July 1781, when he was 22.
In December 1781, Burns moved temporarily to Irvine, North Ayrshire to learn to become a flax-dresser, but
during the workers' celebrations for New Year 1781/1782 (which included Burns as a participant) the flax
shop caught fire and was burnt to the ground. This venture accordingly came to an end, and Burns went
home to Lochlea farm.
His casual love affairs did not endear him to the elders of the local kirk and created for him a reputation
amongst his neighbours for dissoluteness. His first child, Elizabeth Paton Burns (17851817), was born to
his mother's servant, Elizabeth Paton (1760-circa 1799) while he was embarking on a relationship with Jean
Armour, who became pregnant with twins in March 1786
On the morning of 21 July 1796 Robert Burns died in Dumfries, at the age of 37. The funeral took place on
Monday 25 July 1796, the day that his son Maxwell was born. He was at first buried in the far corner of St.
Michael's Churchyard in Dumfries; his body was eventually moved to its final resting place in the same
cemetery, the Burns Mausoleum, in September 1815. The body of Jean Armour was laid to rest with his in
1834.
Burns' poetry drew upon a substantial familiarity with and knowledge of Classical, Biblical, and English
literature, as well as the Scottish Makar tradition.Burns was skilled in writing not only in the Scots language
but also in the Scottish English dialect of the English language. Some of his works, such as Love and Liberty
(also known as The Jolly Beggars), are written in both Scots and English for various effects.
Poems
Pupil 1 My Heart's In The Highlands
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I
Pupil 2 Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name,
Sae famed in martial story!
Now Sark rins over Solway sands,
And Tweed rins to the ocean,
To mark where England's province stands
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
What force or guile could not subdue
Thro' many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitor's wages.
The English steel we could disdain,
Secure in valour's station;
But English gold has been our bane
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
Pupil 3 MacPherson
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
MacPherson's time will no be long
Below the gallows-tree.
O, what is death but parting breath?
On many a bloody plain
I've dar'd his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again!
Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword,
And there's no a man in all Scotland
But I'll brave him at a word.
I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife;
I die by treacherie:
It burns my heart I must depart,
And not avenged be.
O, what is death but parting breath?
On many a bloody plain
I have dared his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again!
And bring to me my sword,
And there is not a man in all Scotland
But I will brave him at a word.
I have lived a life of trouble and strife;
I die by treachery:
It burns my heart I must depart,
And not avenged be.
Now farewell light, you sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky!
May coward shame disdain his name,
The wretch that dare not die!
Шотландық даңқ
Қас дұшпаның саған қару кезенді,
Бастан кештің кері кеткен кезеңді.
Қоштаса бер даңқыңменен ежелгі,
Отан деген оттан ыстық сөз өлді.
Твид мұхиттың асығушы ед жолына,
Сарк болса түсті құмның торына.
Атамекен бәрі, бәрі... көшті енді,
Ата жауың — ағылшындар қолына.
Ғасырларға тізе бүкпей келгенде
Сені сатқан — сатқындар ғой, көр кеуде.
Ұлы Отанды айырбастап жіберді
Уға татыр уыс ақша бергенде
Ағылшынныңқылышына болаттай
Қарсы тұрдық, жерімізге жолатпай.
Тауда менің жүрегім
Тауда менің жүрегім, әлі сонда,
Бұғылармен шыңға өрлеп жарысам да.
Құз-жартасты құламай кезіп жүрем,
Самға, самға, жүрегім, әрі самға!
Қош бол, менің отаным, солтүстігім,
Өзің берген бойымда бар күш бүгін.
Әлем шарлап кетсе де, сені ғана
Сүйемін деп серт беріп, ант ішті ұлың!
Қош бол, меніңқар басқан таулы аймағым
Қош бол, менің жазира жан-жайлауым.
Қош бол, менің жап-жасыл нулы орманым,
Жасырынып ішіңе қалды ойларым.
Тауда менің жүрегім, әлі сонда,
Бұғылармен шыңға өрлеп жарысам да.
құламай кезіп жүрем,
Самға, самға, жүрегім, әрі самға!
Макферсон өлім жазасы алдында
Айдары: Роберт Бернс (Шотланд ақыны)
Ең соңғы рет сүйіп тұрса да өмірді,
Алғаш рет көріп тұрса да өлімді.
Қорқынышты сездірместен,
Дар ағашты көзге ілместен,
Макферсон бүгін өте көңілді.
Салем, сендерге —
Құлдары тіршілік ететін,
Құлазып, күрсініп өтетін,
Патшаның абақтылары.
Бүгін меніңөліміме,
Жауларым сүйсініп, қарап тұрады.
Талай соғыс алаңында
Ажалменен ұшырасқам бетпе-бет.
Бүгін тағы дар алдында,
Шықтым онымен жекпе-жек.
...Қорқыныш менде жоқ, демек
Сендік намыс өшті, сөнді
Қолымдағы шеш, кісенді
Abai Kunanbaev.
Leader: : There are a lot of famous quotations and interesting expressions left by great Kazakh poet Abai
Kunanbaev. First of all we would like to mention these words of great German poet J. Goethe about Abai: “
He is beautiful and great in his eternal yearning the truth” .
1: Everyone knows about Аbai`s life and creations. Let`s listen to our participiants. They will introduce
some facts about poet.
Pupil 1. The great Kazakh poet was born in 1845 into the nomadic clan of Tobykty in the Chinghis
Mountains in East Kazakhstan Region. His real name was Ibraghim. His father Kunanbai was a stern
and willful steppe ruler, was an elder of the Tobykty clan. Abai`s mother Ulzhan was a wonderful
woman. Ulzhan loved him best of all her children and affectionately called him Abai, which means
thoughtful, circumspect”, instead of Ibraghim - the name given the boy by his father. And Abai he
remained for the rest of his life.
Pupil 2. Abai is the great poet, a composer, philosoph, translator and thinker.
He began writing poetry while still at the madrasah. He was able to cite poems
and akyns whose aitysses he always made a point of attending.
Pupil 3. Abai is a translator. He translated some of Goethe`s and Byron`s poetry into Kazakh from
Lermontov`s Russian translations. Abai`s translations were a considerable contribution to the development
of Kazakh literature. He loved Pushkin, Lermontov, Krylov, Saltykov- Shchedrin and Tolstoi. Then he
started translating Krylov, Pushkin and Lermontov into Kazakh.
.
Pupil 5.
Look deep into your soul and ponder on my
words:
To you I am a puzzle , my person and my verse
My life has been a struggle, a thousand foes I
braved. Don`t judge me too severely for you the
way I paved.
Жүрегіңнің түбіне терең бойла,
Мен бір жұмбақ адаммын, оны да ойла.
Соқтықпалы , соқпақсыз жерде өстім,
Мыңмен жалғыз алыстым, кінә қойма.
Pupil 6.
I don`t write poems for amusement
And not to gather together tales and fables
I write to give an example to the young
Whose hearts are sensitive and tongues flexible
These words are available not to the thick-skulled
but to the seekers.
Who have a reasonable heart and a clear mind.
Мен жазбаймын өлеңді ермек ұшін
Жоқ барды , ертеіні термек үшін
Көкірегі сезімді, тілі орамды
Жаздым үлгі жастарға бермек үшін.
Бұл сөзді тасыр ұқпас, талапты ұғар
Көңілінің көзі ашық, сергегі үшін.
Pupil 7.
Oh my luckless Kazakh
An unkempt moustache hides your mouth and
shin,
Blood on right cheek, fat on your left.
When will the dawn of your reason begin?
Your looks are not bad, your number is vast.
Yet why do you change your favours so fast?
You will never listen to sound advice
Your tongue in its rashness is unsurpassed.
Pupil 8
Қалың елім, қазағым, қайран жұртым,
Ұстарасыз аузыңа түсті мұртың,
Жақсы мен жаманды айырмады
Бірі қан, бірі май боп енді екі ұртың,
Бет бергенде шырайым сондай жақсы, Қайдан
ғана бұзылды сартша сыртың
Өзімдікі дей алмай өз малыңды,
Күндіз күлкің бұзылды, түнде ұйқың,
”The tick of a clock”.
The tick of the clock is not something slight The
sounds mark fleeting fractions of day
Each minute transient life in full flight.
That never returns when once passed away The
ticking of clock unheeded still shows.
The count of our days and seconds exciting
wished.
Time is not constant, it changes and flows The
past in its march cast off and distinguished.
.
Сағаттың шықылдағы емес ермек, Нөлінше
өмір өтпек – ол білдірмек.
Бір минут бір кісінің өміріне ұқсас,
Өтті, өлді тағдыр жоқ қайта келмек,
Сағаттың өзі ұры шықылдаған,
Өмірді білдірмеген, күнде ұрлаған
Тиянақ жоқ, тұрлау жоқ, келді кетті
Қайта айналмас, бұрылмас бұлдыр заман.
Pupil 9
Құлақтан кіріп бойды алар,
Жақсы ән мен тәтті күй.
Көңілге түрлі ой салар ,
Әнді сүйсен менше сүй.
Дүние ойдан шығады,
Өзімді өзім ұмытып.
Көңілім әнді ұғады,
Жүрегім бойды жылытып.
Intruding on the ear,the wonderful song,
And the sweet melody captured the soul
Various thought wafted
If you love the song, love it like I do
Everything is born from thought
I forget irretrierably
The soul is penetrated by the song
And the heart warms the body
Pupil 10
Don`t believe the flatters when they sing our
praises
People are perfidious they lie for nothing
Only your work and intelligence
Protect you from a false opinion of yourself.
Don`t test yourself by being too trust worthy
Don`t get entangled going after fame
It`s not worthy of you, in the heat of deception
To chase after a mirage.
If grief comes, resist, don`t give up!
If you comes, don`t be overjoyful
You must simply look deeper into the heart
You will find there the true treasure - don`t lose
it
Сенбе жұртқа, тұрса да қанша мақтап
Әуре етеді ішіне қулық сақтап
Өзіңе сен,өзінді алып шығар
Еңбегін мен ақылың екі жақтап
Өзіңді сенгіштікпен әуре етпе
Құмартып боп мақтанды қуып кетпе
Жұртпен бірге өзіңді қоса алдасып
Салпылдап сағым қуған бойыңа еп пе?
Қайғы келсе қарсы тұр, құлай берме
Қызық келсе, қызықпа, оңғанға ерме
Жүрегіне сүңгі де, түбін көзде
Сонан тапқан – шын асыл, тастай көрме,
Pupil 11
As a gifted interpreter Abai gave Kazakh people to enjoy the pearls of russian classic literature. During 15
years he translated more than 50 works of russian writers like Pushkin, Lermontov, Krylov etc. Abai's
literary legacy also includes a number of ballads dedicated to eastern and western themes. Among these
fictional pieces like "Mas'ud" and "Alexander,"
MountainTop-By Lermontov
Leader:Abay's major work is The Book of Words (Kazakh: қара сөздері, Qara sözderi), a philosophic
treatise and collection of poems where he encourages his fellow Kazakhs to embrace education, literacy, and
good moral character in order to escape poverty, enslavement and corruption. In Word Twenty Five, he
discusses the importance of Russian culture, as a way for Kazakhs to the world's cultural treasures.
In his amazing Book of Words the poet expressed his reflections over a period of years, his searching and
discoveries, anxiety and despair, sorrows and joy of revelations, anger and humility. His Book of Words is a
deeply meaningful way to truth.
We would like to present extracts from words
Word: 7,31,39,4,33,38,19
Pupil 12 Abai Qunanbaiuli died on 6 July 1904 (aged 58)
He is buried near his wintering in Zhidebai valley, not far from Chingiz mountains.
George Gordon Byron
Leader: At the last we shall speak about greatest revolutionary English poet George Gordon Byron. His name
is known all over the world.
Pupil 1 George Gordon Byron was born in London, on January 22,1788 into an old aristocratic family. His
mother came from rich Scottish family. His father was a poor army officer who soon spent his wife’s money
and died when the boy was 3 years old. Byron spent first ten years of his life in Scotland. It was fond of the
rocky coast and mountains of the country. His love of natural scenery was reflected in many his poems.
Pupil 2 the boy went to a grammar school. He liked history and read a great deal about Rome Greece,
Turkey.
Pupil 3 At 17 Byron entered Cambridge University and there his literary career began. In 1807 when he was
a student he published his first collection of poems “Hours of Idleness”
In 1808 he graduated from the University and the next year took his hereditary seat in the House of Lords.
In 1812 Byron made his first speech in the House of Lords
Pupil 4 In the Greek town Byron feel ill with typhus and died in April 1824.His friend’s brought his body to
England. They wanted to bury him in Westminster Abbey where many of great writers are bured but the
English Government did not let them. He was buried in Newstead his native place.
Pupil 5 Byron's Portrait by Richard Westall.
Byron's adult height was about 1.80, his weight fluctuating between 60 and 89 kg. He was renowned for his
personal beauty, which he enhanced by wearing curl-papers in his hair at night. He was athletic, being a
competent boxer and horse-rider and an excellent swimmer.
Pupil 7
My soul dark Oh! Quickly string
The harp I yet can bring to hear
And let the gentle fingers fling
It’s melting murmurs over my ear
If in this heart a hope be dear.
That sound shall charm it forth again
If in these eyes there lurk a tear
If will flow and cease to burn my brain.
Көңілім менің қараңғы. Болб бол ақын
Алтынды домбырамен келші жақын
Ішек байлап он саусақ жорғаласа
Бейіштің үні шығар қоңыр салқын
Егер сарын түбімен әкетпесе
Керек қой көңілді үміт тебіретпес
Қатып қалған көзімде бір тамшы жас
Төгілмей ме, бой жылып, ол да ерісе
Teacher: Dear guests, our party has come to the end. A lot of thanks for your attention.
We thank all students for participation. I suppose you’ve got much information about some famous English
and Kazakh poets and listened to their poems with great pleasure. Good-bye!