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Вершы пра нашу мову

 

Вершы пра нашу мову

 

                                                                                                            Аляксей Якімовіч

Маё багацце

 

Ёсць багацце ў мяне –

                                                           Беларуская мова.

                                                           Гадавала, люляла

                                                           Яе кожнае слова.

 

                                                           Тваё дзеканне, мова,

                                                           Нібы песня, гучыць,

                                                           Ад дзядоў праз стагоддзі

                                                           Звонкай птушкай ляціць.

 

                                                           Бачу тыя мясціны,

                                                           Дзе стваралася ты.

                                                           Час той боскі, дзівосны

                                                           Для мяне залаты.

 

                                                           З тваім яканнем, мова,

                                                           Жыў заўжды і жыву,

                                                           На зямлі маіх продкаў

                                                           Жыцця нітку праду.

 

                                                           Сябры ў госці прыходзяць,

                                                           Вясна лашчыць, чаруе.

                                                           На бярозцы зялёнай

                                                           Зноў зязюля кукуе.

 

                                                           Люблю аканне слухаць.

                                                           Яно наша, маё.

                                                           Мама змалку вучыла:

                                                           -- Беражы, сын, сваё.

 

                                                           З пашы гнаў я кароўку

                                                           У спартыўным трыко,

                                                           Потым з хлебам духмяным

                                                           З кубка піў малако.

 

                                                           “Парасон”, -- вымаўляю.

                                                           Бачу дожджыка кроплі.

                                                           У садку, што за хатай,

                                                           Нашы грушы намоклі.

 

                                                           “Палазы”, -- кажу ціха.

                                                           Сані гучна рыпяць.

                                                           А сняжынкі, бы іскрынкі,

                                                           У белым полі зіхацяць.

 

                                                           Як крынічкі, льюцца словы.

                                                           А крынічак гэтых шмат.

                                                           Нашы прашчуры стварылі

                                                           Незвычайны, дзіўны сад.

 

                                                           Не старэе наша мова,

                                                           Як і сонца за акном.

                                                          Разам з ёю пабудуем

                                                          Беларускі светлы дом.

                                                                                    2023 год

 

                                                                                                                     Аляксей Якімовіч

Наш храм

 

                                                             Я заходжу ў храм.

                                                             У храме тым бачу словы

                                                             Нашай добрай, пявучай,

                                                             Людзьмі створанай мовы.

 

                                                             Мовы нашай Радзімы,

                                                             Беларускай зямлі.

                                                             Як зярняткі калоссяў,

                                                             Спелі тут на раллі.

 

                                                             Шмат стагоддзяў яны

                                                             У светлым храме жывуць,

                                                             Іншы раз, каб пачулі,

                                                             Салавейкам пяюць.

 

                                                             Нашы прашчуры дбайна

                                                             Будавалі той храм.

                                                             Ён стаіць перад намі,

                                                             Ён аддадзены нам.

 

                                                              Плылі цёмныя хмары,

                                                              Гром грымеў звар’яцелы.

                                                              На пагорку высокім

                                                              Бачу храм уцалелы.

 

                                                              Я заходжу ў храм,

                                                              Я на мове малюся.

                                                              Я жыву з табой, храм,

                                                              Я табой ганаруся.

 

                                                              Кажу беларусам,

                                                              Маім землякам.

                                                              Беражыце здабытае,

                                                              Не разбурайце храм.

                                                                                      2023 год