На уроках англійської вивчається тема "Книги в нашому житті"(9 занять). 25 січня в рамках теми учні ознайомилися з інформацією про національну гордість Великої Британії- поетів В. Шекспіра, Р. Бернса і Дж. Байрона. Особливу увагу була приділено матеріалам по творчості Роберта Бернса та святкуванню присвяченої йому Burns' Night ( день народження поета -25 січня, а для шотландців його образ подібно Т.Г.Шевченку для українців). Учням було надано зразки поетичного декламування та пісень на вірші видатних поетів, які вони можуть використати, щоб тренуватися вдома і в продовж місяця вивчити та здати на оцінку такі вірші :
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 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 forever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high cover’d 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 go.
(by Robert Burns)
TWILIGHT
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard:
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word:
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure.
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
(by George Gordon Byron)
SONNET 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
(by William Shakespeare)
Good luck to you!
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