Information for parents: Golden heart - short, fairy tale Russian writer Vitaly Valentinovich Bianki. This is a story about Zoya and her aunt, who sang a song about a cuckoo in the forest. This good fairy tale Perfect for reading at night, and will help put children from 4 to 7 years to sleep.

Read the fairy tale Golden Heart

In the grove grew nearby a young Rowan, an elderly Birch and an old Oak. When the breeze came, they rustled the leaves. So they talked to each other. Old Oak also knew how to creak the trunk in different ways. When the wind was strong, the voice of the Oak was heard throughout the grove. But all the same, Zoechka and her old aunt did not understand the rustle or the creak of the trees.

The first time Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the strawberries were ripe. They took the berries, but did not pay any attention to the trees.
A gray thin bird flew in, sat on a branch of a young Rowan and began to cuckoo:
- Ku-ku! Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Aunt said:
- Do you hear, Zoechka, - cuckoo! When I was little, we sang a pretty song about her.
And the aunt sang in a thin pitiful voice:
There, far away across the river It is sometimes heard: Ku-ku! Ku-ku! This bird is screaming At the green willows: Ku-ku! Ku-ku! She lost her children, - It's a pity for her poor ones. Ku-ku! Ku-ku! Ku-ku-u!..
Here her aunt's voice trembled and trembled, and Zoya burst into tears.
Aunt patted Zoechka on the head and said:
- You have a golden heart: it pities everyone!

Then the young Rowan rustled with all her split leaves:
- Listen! Listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid song! The cuckoo doesn't lose her babies at all. She deliberately throws them into other people's nests. Please don't feel sorry for Cuckoo. Have pity on other birds.
But Zoechka and her aunt did not listen to the rustling of the leaves.
And the gray thin bird kept cuckooing, so plaintively:
- Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
A thin brown bird flew in, sat on a branch of an elderly Birch and giggled piercingly:
- Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!

Here Zoechka burst into tears even more:

Why is this ugly bird laughing at the poor Cuckoo!
Aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:
- And here we are now! ..
She picked up a branch, waved it at a thin brown bird:
- Kush! Shh! - And drove her away.
Then the elderly Birch rustled with all her leaves, similar to hearts:
- Listen, listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid misunderstanding. You yourself feel sorry for the Cuckoo and you yourself drove it away! The cuckoo-father shouts: cuckoo! coo-coo! And the Cuckoo-mother shouts: hee-hee-hee-hee!
Brown - this is the Cuckoo-mother. You sing a song yourself and you don’t know about whom.
Young Rowan whispered almost audibly:
- Absolutely fair, absolutely fair.

The wind was so strong that the old linden swayed like a blade of grass and creaked loudly. It seemed that it was about to crack from the root to the very top.

By morning the storm had subsided. The little cuckoo was still sitting, pressed against the wall. He still could not come to his senses from fear.

When the sun rose high, its rays slipped into the hollow and warmed the wet Little Cuckoo.

In the afternoon, a Boy and a Girl came to the grove.

The wind picked up from the ground yellow leaves and twisted in the air. Children ran and caught them. Then they started playing hide and seek. The boy hid behind the trunk of an old lime tree.

Suddenly he thought he heard a bird cry from the depths of the tree.

The boy raised his head, saw the hollow, and climbed up the tree.

Here! he called to his sister. - There is a cuckoo sitting in the hollow.

The girl came running and asked her brother to get her a bird.

I can't put my hand in the hollow! - said the Boy. - The hole is too small.

Then I will scare the cuckoo, - said the Girl, - and you catch it when it climbs out of the hollow.

The girl began to beat with a stick on the trunk.

A deafening roar rose up in the hollow. The little cuckoo gathered the last of its strength, rested its legs and wings against the walls and began to break out of the hollow.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not squeeze through.

Look! cried the Girl. - The cuckoo can't get out, it's too fat.

Wait, - said the Boy, - now I'll pull it out.

He took a penknife out of his pocket and widened the entrance to the hollow with it. I had to cut a wide hole in the tree before I could get the Little Cuckoo out of it. He had long grown from a large cuckoo and was three times thicker than his foster mother - Pestrushka.

But from sitting in the hollow for a long time, he was very clumsy and could not fly.

We will take him with us, - the children decided, - and we will feed him.

* * *

Birds flew south past the empty linden tree. Among them was the Cuckoo.

She saw the hollow where she had dropped her egg in the spring, and again she thought:

“How smart I am! How well I arranged my chick! Where is he now? That's right, I'll meet him in the south."

golden heart

In the grove grew nearby a young Rowan, an elderly Birch and an old Oak. When the breeze came, they rustled the leaves. So they talked to each other. Old Oak also knew how to creak the trunk in different ways. When the wind was strong, the voice of the Oak was heard throughout the grove. But all the same, Zoechka and her old aunt did not understand the rustle or the creak of the trees.

The first time Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the strawberries were ripe. They took the berries, but did not pay any attention to the trees.

A gray thin bird flew in, sat on a branch of a young Rowan and began to cuckoo:

Ku-ku! Ku-ku! Ku-ku!

Aunt said:

Do you hear, Zoechka, - cuckoo! When I was little, we sang a pretty song about her.

• Far beyond the river
• Occasionally distributed:
• Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
• This bird is screaming
• For green willows:

• Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
• Lost children -
• Pity her poor ones.
• Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
• Ku-ku-u!..

Aunt patted Zoechka on the head and said:

You have a golden heart: it pities everyone!

Then the young Rowan rustled with all her split leaves:

Listen! Listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid song! The cuckoo doesn't lose her babies at all. She deliberately throws them into other people's nests. Please don't feel sorry for Cuckoo. Have pity on other birds.

But Zoechka and her aunt did not listen to the rustling of the leaves.

And the gray thin bird kept cuckooing, so plaintively:

Ku-ku! Ku-ku!

A thin brown bird flew in, sat on a branch of an elderly Birch and giggled piercingly:

Hee hee hee hee hee!

Here Zoechka burst into tears even more:

Why is this ugly bird laughing at the poor Cuckoo!

Aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:

And here we are now!..

She picked up a branch, waved it at a thin brown bird:

Shh! Shh! - And drove her away.

Then the elderly Birch rustled with all its leaves, similar to hearts.

In the grove grew nearby a young Rowan, an elderly Birch and an old Oak. When the breeze came, they rustled the leaves. So they talked to each other. Old Oak also knew how to creak the trunk in different ways. When the wind was strong, the voice of the Oak was heard throughout the grove. But all the same, Zoechka and her old aunt did not understand the rustle or the creak of the trees.

The first time Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the strawberries were ripe. They took the berries, but did not pay any attention to the trees.

A gray thin bird flew in, sat on a branch of a young Rowan and began to cuckoo:

Ku-ku! Ku-ku! Ku-ku!

Aunt said:

Do you hear, Zoechka, - cuckoo! When I was little, we sang a pretty song about her.

Far beyond the river
Occasionally distributed:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
This bird is screaming
For green willows:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Lost children -
Pity her poor ones.
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Ku-ku-u!..
Here her aunt's voice trembled and trembled, and Zoya burst into tears.
Aunt patted Zoechka on the head and said:

You have a golden heart: it pities everyone!

Listen! Listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid song! The cuckoo doesn't lose her babies at all. She deliberately throws them into other people's nests. Please don't feel sorry for Cuckoo. Have pity on other birds.

But Zoechka and her aunt did not listen to the rustling of the leaves.

And the gray thin bird kept cuckooing, so plaintively:

Ku-ku! Ku-ku!

A thin brown bird flew in, sat on a branch of an elderly Birch and giggled piercingly:

Hee hee hee hee hee!

Here Zoechka burst into tears even more:

Why is this ugly bird laughing at the poor Cuckoo!

Aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:

And here we are now!..

She picked up a branch, waved it at a thin brown bird:

Shh! Shh! - And drove her away.

Then the elderly Birch rustled with all her leaves, similar to hearts:

Listen, listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid misunderstanding. You yourself feel sorry for the Cuckoo and you yourself drove it away! The cuckoo-father shouts: cuckoo! coo-coo! And the Cuckoo-mother shouts: hee-hee-hee-hee!

Brown - this is the Cuckoo-mother. You sing a song yourself and you don’t know about whom.

Young Rowan whispered almost audibly:

Perfectly fair, absolutely fair.

But the old Oak was silent: he had lived in the world for three hundred years, and he was no longer interested in tearful songs.

Another time, Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the raspberries were ripe.
They came to the old Oak. Suddenly, a red-breasted bird fluttered out of its roots. Zoechka bent down and saw a nest between the roots. There were six chicks in it. Five were in a warm cannon, and the sixth was still completely naked.

Zoya immediately burst into tears:

Why is he naked, he is cold! ..

And the aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:

Golden heart!

Then the young Rowan rustled with all her split leaves:

Listen, listen! After all, this chick was born three days later than the others. He will grow up and get dressed. Those five were also naked, and even their own mother did not cry over them.

And the elderly Birch rustled with all its leaves, similar to hearts:

Listen, listen! After all, it's a Cuckoo! It is not necessary to feel sorry for him, but for other chicks.

But Zoechka and her aunt paid no attention to the rustling of the leaves. …..

And the old Oak was silent.
And for the third time, Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the autumn wind plucked their leaves from the trees.

Zoechka looked under the roots of the old Oak and wept.

There was one Little Cuckoo sitting there. He grew so big that he covered the whole nest.

A red-breasted bird flew in, and Cuckoo immediately opened his mouth and screamed.

The little cuckoo was so big, and the red-breasted bird was so small. She had to sit on his head to feed him the butterfly she had brought. And the head of the red-breasted bird at the same time completely disappeared in the gaping mouth of the Cuckoo.

Aunt asked Zoechka:

Why are you crying, my heart?

And Zoechka whispered, sobbing:

Yes ... All the chicks have long since left the nest. And this poor thing - henna! henna! Wants to eat all the time!

Then the young Rowan whispered with all her remaining split leaves:

Look, look! After all, it's a Cuckoo!

When he was still naked, he threw all the children of Krasnogrudok out of the nest. They were weak, in the cannon and perished one by one in the grass.

The cuckoo killed them. Have pity on the chicks of Krasnogrudok!

And the elderly Birch whispered with all her remaining leaves, similar to hearts:

Look, look! He has grown much larger than his nurse, Krasnobrudka, and still asks her for food. He is lazy and a glutton. He cannot be pitied!

But Zoechka burst into tears even more and whimpered:

All other birds - henna! henna! - fly away over the sea to warmer climes. But this one will remain. It will snow. And - henna! henna! - the poor bird will freeze.
Aunt said:

I can't see your golden heart breaking. You know what, let's take this bird home. You yourself will feed her a bun until the warm days come again.
And Zoechka whispered through her tears:

And I will sing a song to her.

Here even the old Oak could not stand it and creaked:

Skry! .. Skru! .. Poskru! .. Listen! After all, this is terribly sad ... no, a stupid story! Drop the Cuckoo! Red-breasted, away, - he will correct himself. There are wings, what a twist? And the roll - to the rats! Listen! Hidden!..

Zoechka and her aunt stopped up their ears from the terrible creaking of the old Oak, picked up Little Cuckoo, and hastily left the grove.

At home, Zoechka put Little Cuckoo at the doll's table and until then fed him a sweet bun, until Little Cuckoo stopped asking for food.
Then Zoechka put him into the doll's bed, covered him with the doll's blanket, and sang in a thin pitiful voice:

Far beyond the river

Occasionally distributed:

Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The little cuckoo immediately closed his eyes.
Zoechka next:
This bird is screaming
For green willows:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The cuckoo rolled over onto its back.
Zoechka quietly finished the song:
Lost the children
Pity her poor ones.
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The cuckoo jerked its legs and died.

In the grove grew nearby a young Rowan, an elderly Birch and an old Oak. When the breeze came, they rustled the leaves. So they talked to each other. Old Oak also knew how to creak the trunk in different ways. When the wind was strong, the voice of the Oak was heard throughout the grove. But all the same, Zoechka and her old aunt did not understand the rustle or the creak of the trees.
The first time Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the strawberries were ripe. They took the berries, but did not pay any attention to the trees.
A gray thin bird flew in, sat on a branch of a young Rowan and began to cuckoo:
- Ku-ku! Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Aunt said:
- Do you hear, Zoechka, - cuckoo! When I was little, we sang a pretty song about her.
And the aunt sang in a thin pitiful voice:
Far beyond the river
Occasionally distributed:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
This bird is screaming
For green willows:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Lost children -
Pity her poor ones.
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
Ku-ku-u!..
Here her aunt's voice trembled and trembled, and Zoya burst into tears.
Aunt patted Zoechka on the head and said:
- You have a golden heart: it pities everyone!

- Listen! Listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid song! The cuckoo doesn't lose her babies at all. She deliberately throws them into other people's nests. Please don't feel sorry for Cuckoo. Have pity on other birds.
But Zoechka and her aunt did not listen to the rustling of the leaves.
And the gray thin bird kept cuckooing, so plaintively:
- Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
A thin brown bird flew in, sat on a branch of an elderly Birch and giggled piercingly:
- Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!
Here Zoechka burst into tears even more:
- Why is this ugly bird laughing at the poor Cuckoo!
Aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:
- And here we are now! ..
She picked up a branch, waved it at a thin brown bird:
- Kush! Shh! - And drove her away.
Then the elderly Birch rustled with all her leaves, similar to hearts:
- Listen, listen! After all, this is a terribly stupid misunderstanding. You yourself feel sorry for the Cuckoo and you yourself drove it away! The cuckoo-father shouts: cuckoo! coo-coo! And the Cuckoo-mother shouts: hee-hee-hee-hee!
Brown - this is the Cuckoo-mother. You sing a song yourself and you don’t know about whom.
Young Rowan whispered almost audibly:
- Absolutely fair, absolutely fair.
But the old Oak was silent: he had lived in the world for three hundred years, and he was no longer interested in tearful songs.
Another time, Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the raspberries were ripe.
They came to the old Oak. Suddenly, a red-breasted bird fluttered out of its roots. Zoechka bent down and saw a nest between the roots. There were six chicks in it. Five were in a warm cannon, and the sixth was still completely naked.
Zoya immediately burst into tears:
- Why is he naked, he's cold! ..
And the aunt again stroked Zoechka on the head and said:
- Golden heart!
Then the young Rowan rustled with all her split leaves:
- Listen, listen! After all, this chick was born three days later than the others. He will grow up and get dressed. Those five were also naked, and even their own mother did not cry over them.
And the elderly Birch rustled with all its leaves, similar to hearts:
- Listen, listen! After all, it's a Cuckoo! It is not necessary to feel sorry for him, but for other chicks.
But Zoechka and her aunt paid no attention to the rustling of the leaves. …..
And the old Oak was silent.
And for the third time, Zoechka and her aunt came to the grove when the autumn wind plucked their leaves from the trees.
Zoechka looked under the roots of the old Oak and wept.
There was one Little Cuckoo sitting there. He grew so big that he covered the whole nest.
A red-breasted bird flew in, and Cuckoo immediately opened his mouth and screamed.
The little cuckoo was so big, and the red-breasted bird was so small. She had to sit on his head to feed him the butterfly she had brought. And the head of the red-breasted bird at the same time completely disappeared in the gaping mouth of the Cuckoo.
Aunt asked Zoechka:
Why are you crying, my heart?
And Zoechka whispered, sobbing:
- Yes ... All the chicks have long since left the nest. And this poor thing - henna! henna! Wants to eat all the time!
Then the young Rowan whispered with all her remaining split leaves:
- Look, look! After all, it's a Cuckoo!
When he was still naked, he threw all the children of Krasnogrudok out of the nest. They were weak, in the cannon and perished one by one in the grass.
The cuckoo killed them. Have pity on the chicks of Krasnogrudok!
And the elderly Birch whispered with all her remaining leaves, similar to hearts:
- Look, look! He has grown much larger than his nurse, Krasnobrudka, and still asks her for food. He is lazy and a glutton. He cannot be pitied!
But Zoechka burst into tears even more and whimpered:

All other birds - henna! henna! - fly away over the sea to warmer climes. But this one will remain. It will snow. And - henna! henna! - the poor bird will freeze.
Aunt said:
- I can't see how your golden heart is torn. You know what, let's take this bird home. You yourself will feed her a bun until the warm days come again.
And Zoechka whispered through her tears:
And I will sing a song to her.
Here even the old Oak could not stand it and creaked:
- Skry! .. Skru! .. Poskru! .. Listen! After all, this is terribly sad ... no, a stupid story! Drop the Cuckoo! Red-breasted, away, - he will correct himself. There are wings, what a twist? And the roll - to the rats! Listen! Hidden!..
Zoechka and her aunt stopped up their ears from the terrible creaking of the old Oak, picked up Little Cuckoo, and hastily left the grove.
At home, Zoechka put Little Cuckoo at the doll's table and until then fed him a sweet bun, until Little Cuckoo stopped asking for food.
Then Zoechka put him into the doll's bed, covered him with the doll's blanket, and sang in a thin pitiful voice:
Far beyond the river
Occasionally distributed:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The little cuckoo immediately closed his eyes.
Zoechka next:
This bird is screaming
For green willows:
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The cuckoo rolled over onto its back.
Zoechka quietly finished the song:
Lost the children
Pity her poor ones.
Ku-ku! Ku-ku!
The cuckoo jerked its legs and died.

The poetry of nature became the basis of artistry in the fairy tales of Vitaly Valentinovich Bianchi. Freedom of fiction was combined in his fairy tales with the truth about the unspeakably bizarre world of forests, fields, rivers and lakes. The fairy tale "Owl" tells how closely the life of birds, insects, animals and man himself are interconnected. The Owl stopped flying in the field: the Old Man offended her - and many mice divorced, the bumblebees left the field, there was no one to pollinate the clover, there was no good food, and the Cow began to milk less and less. And now there is nothing for the Old Man to whiten tea.

Each bird has its own nose, well adapted for its life. And it's hard to decide whose nose is better ("Whose nose is better?").

Whatever the tale is, it is a new page from a multi-sheeted writer's encyclopedia, which covers all the months of the year, all the subsequent changes in nature. ( This material will help to correctly write on the topic of the Tales of Bianchi and Nagishkin. Summary does not make it clear the whole meaning of the work, so this material will be useful for a deep understanding of the work of writers and poets, as well as their novels, short stories, stories, plays, poems.) Everything in this world to the smallest detail is known to the writer. Everything is striking in its intricacy. However, true to the properties of a fairy tale as an art, Bianchi not only brings knowledge to his readers. He is always an artist. From here fun game intonations, well-aimed expressions and, in general, the whole warehouse of “scientific speech - the speech of the narrator - poet and artist. So it is said about the Owl that she is a “widow”, that “from a hollow with eyes of loops, loops, legs of stupid-tui. This word game, as in jokes, as in children's playing. The little fairy tale "The Fox and the Mouse" became more attractive from one unusual word in the last phrase: "a little bit". The fox said that he would lie in wait for the Mouse in the hole. And the Mouse replies: there is, they say, I have a bedroom, there is also a treasure chest - you can sit it out. But the Fox does not back down - he says that he will open the mink. Then the Mouse said: “And I’m away from you, and that was it!” Everything in Bianchi's fairy tales is conducive to love for the world of wildlife - high, ennobling love, the one without which there is no real person.

Russian writers have always willingly turned to the development of themes, motifs and images of the fabulous folklore of other peoples and nationalities. In our time, the passage of fairy tales from people to people is one of the powerful and fruitful sources of mutual enrichment of the cultures of the fraternal peoples of the multinational Soviet Union. An outstanding success came to the Far East writer Dmitry Dmitrievich Nagishkin, when he decided to recreate the folklore legends and myths of the Nanai, Ulchi, Nivkhs, Orochs and other small peoples of the Amur and Primorye in fairy tales. Nagishkin found here everything that attracts genuine artistic creativity - deep vitality, romantic heroics, bold fiction and the uniqueness of such a view of the world, which combined the ancient traditions of myth and realism.

The hero of the writer's fairy tale, the brave, brave Azmun, went down to the bottom of the sea to save his people from starvation. He went down and saw: old Tayrnadz, the lord of the sea, was lying on the bunk, sleeping, he forgot about the Nivkhs - he stopped sending them fish. A young man woke up Tayrnadz: “I am Azmun, a man of the Nivkh people,” the hero called himself. “Father, help the Nivkhs - send fish to the Nivkhs. Father, the Nivkhs are dying of hunger.” This is the speech of a man who is mindful of his duty. And Tayrnadzu felt ashamed. In the interpretation of the fabulous feat, Nagishkin's manner as the author of the novel about the Komsomol hero Vitaly Bonivur ("The Heart of Bonivur") is palpable. In the story of the young man Azmun, the feat in the name of the happiness and well-being of the people is recreated in full accordance with the heroic pathos of the Nivkh legends. In the folklore of peoples Far East The writer has found something close to himself.