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Мае вершы, змешчаныя ў кнізе “Эльдарада просіць дапамогі”

 

Мае вершы, змешчаныя ў кнізе “Эльдарада просіць дапамогі”

 

Выдадзена ў выдавецтве “Беларусь”.

Якімовіч, А. М. Эльдарада просіць дапамогі : прыгодніцка-гістарычная аповесць, аповесці-казкі, вершы  / Аляксей Якімовіч . – Мінск : Беларусь, 2023. – 487 с.

 

                                                                                                             Аляксей Якімовіч

Беларусь

 

Добрым словам Беларусь

                                                    Цябе называем,

                                                    Працаю стараннай

                                                    Дружна праслаўляем.

 

                                                   Тут я маю свой куток –

                                                   Бацькоўскую хату.

                                                   Мне яна падаравала

                                                   Казачнае свята.

 

                                                  Каля лаўкі сваё дрэўца

                                                  Тут я пасадзіў,

                                                  Для людзей – маіх суседзяў –

                                                  Цянёчак стварыў.

 

                                                  Тут я ручкамі цягнуўся,

                                                  Лашчыў мамін твар.

                                                  Тут на мове беларускай

                                                  Прачытаў буквар.

 

                                                  Тут салоўка ля крынічкі

                                                  Цёхкае, спявае.

                                                  Я стаю, а ён, як сябар,

                                                  Настрой паднімае.

 

                                                  Ляціць бусел над балотам,

                                                  Крыламі махае,

                                                  На палеткі з вышыні

                                                  Пільна пазірае.

 

                                                  Падышоў да азярца –

                                                  Качкі вылятаюць.

                                                  Тут прытулак, тут іх дом,

                                                  Тут адпачываюць.

 

                                                  На зямельцы тут працую,

                                                  Дзякую я ёй,

                                                  Сонца зранку сустракае,

                                                  Гуляе са мной.

 

                                                  На жытнёвыя палеткі

                                                  Сыпле дожджык з неба.

                                                  Мне здаецца: наваколле

                                                  Пахне свежым хлебам.

 

                                                 У душы маёй гучаць

                                                 Песні прадзедаў, дзядоў.

                                                 “Беларусь – наша краіна”, --

                                                 Паўтараю зноў і зноў.

                                                                       2022

                                                                                                              

                                                                                                       Аляксей Якімовіч

Дадому

 

Крочу я дадому,

                                                                У войску адслужыўшы,

                                                                Бацькаўшчыне роднай

                                                                Доўг свой заплаціўшы.

 

                                                                Сарока на бярозцы,

                                                                Убачыўшы, стракоча.

                                                                Мабыць, па сакрэту

                                                                Штось сказаць мне хоча.

 

                                                                Крочу я дадому,

                                                                Як госць, пазіраю,

                                                                Часам, прыпыніўшыся,

                                                                Стаю, уздыхаю.

 

                                                                Мядзяныя сасонкі

                                                                Галінкамі махаюць,

                                                                Напэўна, у цянёчку

                                                                Прысесці запрашаюць.

 

                                                                Іду я па дарозе,

                                                                Плечы распрамляю,

                                                                Знаёмыя мясцінкі

                                                                Міжволі адзначаю.

 

                                                                Імклівая крынічка

                                                                Ціхенька спявае.

                                                                -- Падыдзі, салдацік, --

                                                                Кліча, падклікае.

 

                                                                П’ю ваду з крынічкі,

                                                                Вуснамі тулюся.

                                                                З плячэй скіну стому,

                                                                Сілы набяруся.

 

                                                                Неўзабаве з хаты

                                                                Выбежыць мой тата.

                                                                З радасцю сустрэне

                                                                Ён свайго салдата.

 

                                                                Наблізіцца матуля,

                                                                Скажа: “Сын! Сыночак!”

                                                                Радасць вытра слёзкі

                                                                З яе добрых вочак.

 

                                                                Іду я па дарозе.

                                                                Вядзе яна дамоў.

                                                                У вёсачцы сустрэну

                                                                Блізкіх і сяброў.

                                                                                   2022

 

                                                                                                                Аляксей Якімовіч

Май

                                                                               Прысвячаю дзеду Аляксандру і

                                                                                  бабулі Марысі.

 

Квітнее май.

                                                              Бэз расцвітае,

                                                              Майго дзядулю

                                                              З вайны чакае.

 

                                                              Чакае рэчка,

                                                              Лужок зялёны,

                                                              Стаяць, чакаюць

                                                              Ля вёскі клёны.

 

                                                              Чакае поле

                                                               І лес сасновы.

                                                               Іржой пакрыўся

                                                               Плужок сталёвы.

 

                                                               І мне здаецца:

                                                               Ідзе мой дзед.

                                                               Ламлю галінкі,

                                                               Раблю букет.

 

                                                               -- Унук, не трэба, --

                                                               Кажа бабуля. –

                                                               Дзеда дагнала

                                                               У змроку куля.

 

                                                               Ля мора сіняга

                                                               Твой дзед упаў,

                                                               Зямлю чужую

                                                               Рукой абняў.

 

                                                               Прыходзіць май.

                                                               Прыходзіць свята.

                                                               Не павіншую я

                                                               Майго салдата.

 

                                                               З вачэй бабулі

                                                               Цякуць слязінкі,

                                                               На родным твары

                                                               Даўно маршчынкі.

 

                                                                Слёзы глытае

                                                                Мая бабуля.

                                                                Дзед не вярнуўся:

                                                                Дагнала куля.

 

                                                               Квітнее май.

                                                               Бэз расцвітае.

                                                              Шпак ля шпакоўні

                                                              Свішча, спявае.

                                                                                       2022

 

                                                                                                             Аляксей Якімовіч

Параніла хлопца…

 

Параніла хлопца

                                                           Варожая куля.

                                                           Чырвонаю стала

                                                           На грудзях кашуля.

 

                                                           Сябры адступілі,

                                                           Адцясніў іх вораг.

                                                           Імгла прад вачыма

                                                           Сцелецца, як порах.

 

                                                           Зялёныя лісточкі

                                                           Яна затуляе,

                                                           На іх наглядзецца

                                                           Яму не дазваляе.

 

                                                           Затуляе неба,

                                                           Затуляе кветкі.

                                                          Затуляе мілыя

                                                          Родныя палеткі.

 

                                                          Куст лазовы на балоце,

                                                          Ля ракі жоўты пясок,

                                                          Сад цяністы каля хаты

                                                          І на полі каласок.

 

                                                         І сцяжынку, што ад лесу

                                                         Праз лужок яго вяла

                                                         Да любімае матулі,

                                                         Да надзейнага крыла.

 

                                                        Хутка ёй сябры раскажуць,

                                                        Што ён смела ваяваў.

                                                        Пакуль сілы не растраціў,

                                                        Край дзядоў абараняў.

 

                                                        Злая куля прыляцела,

                                                        Сілу адабрала,

                                                        Каля дуба маладога

                                                        Яго напаткала.

 

                                                       Цішыня стаіць, застыла,

                                                       Анямела наваколле.

                                                       А дубочак малады

                                                       Затуляе гнуткім голлем.

 

                                                       Раптам птушка закрычала,

                                                       Чыйсьці голас прагучаў:

                                                       “Ён жывы!.. Сюды падпоўз!

                                                       А вунь там ляжаў!”

 

                                                       Мова родная, свая!

                                                       Землякі прыйшлі, шукаюць.

                                                       Не пакінулі ў бядзе.

                                                       Вось так край абараняюць!

                                                                                      2022

 

                                                                                                          Аляксей Якімовіч

Развітанне

 

        Іду сёння на вайну,

                                                             Бо люблю краіну.

                                                             Каля хаты пакідаю

                                                             Тонкую рабіну.

                  

                                                              Налятае вецярок,

                                                              Галінкі гайдае,

                                                              З тоненькай рабіны

                                                              Слёзы асыпае.

 

                                                              На траве зялёнай

                                                              Яны заблішчалі.

                                                              Доўгія травінкі

                                                              Ціха застагналі.

 

                                                              Туліцца да хаты

                                                              Тонкая рабіна.

                                                              Вецярочак прагудзеў:

                                                              “Мая сіраціна!”

 

                                                              Паляцеў кудысьці.

                                                              У яго свая доля:

                                                              

                                                              Шырокае поле,

                                                              Нястрымная воля.

 

                                                              Бліснула на ўсходзе,

                                                              Неба затрашчала.

                                                              Страла агнявая

                                                              Каля вёскі ўпала.

 

                                                              Полымя чырвонае

                                                              Над хатамі ўзнялося.

                                                              Вусны прашапталі:

                                                              “Вось і пачалося!”

 

                                                               Наступае вораг

                                                               На маю краіну.

                                                               Будзем бараніць мы

                                                               Хаты і рабіну.

                                                                                   2022

 

                                                                                                        Аляксей Якімовіч

На лясной паляначцы

                                                                  Прысвячаю дзеду Аляксандру і бабулі

                                                                  Парасі, расстраляных фашыстамі ў 1941

                                                                  годзе.

 

                                                             На паляначцы лясной

                                                             Птушкі выцінаюць,

                                                             Нараджэнне, новы дзень

                                                             Радасна вітаюць.

                                 

                                                             У траве гараць суніцы.

                                                             Іх я не збіраю:

                                                             Ля сасны шурпатай

                                                             Стаю і разважаю.

 

                                                             Бачу дзеда і бабулю,

                                                             Галасы іх чую.

                                                             Выціраю са шчакі

                                                             Слязіначку скупую.

 

                                                            -- Чаму нас злыдні прывялі?..

                                                            За што мучаць?.. Не маўчы!

                                                            Сонца свеціць, зіхаціць…

                                                            Я ж стаю, як уначы.

 

                                                             Апусціла жонка вочы,

                                                             Адказу чакае.

                                                             Па хваінцы тонкай

                                                             Смала паўзе, сцякае.

 

                                                             -- Людзі выбралі мяне…

                                                             Быў я дэпутатам…

                                                             Скрыва пазірае

                                                             Чужынец з аўтаматам.

 

                                                             -- Без нас застануцца

                                                             Нашы Ваня, Коля.

                                                             Завіхурыць іх

                                                             Нядобрая доля.

 

                                                            -- Не прападуць, пражывуць…

                                                            Былі яны са мною…

                                                            -- Ніколі не сустрэнем

                                                         Іх разам з табою?

 

                                                         Уздыхнуўшы, жонка

                                                         За руку ўзялася.

                                                         Вось каб птушкаю цяпер

                                                         Увысь яна ўзнялася!

 

                                                         Пясок валіцца пад ногі:

                                                         Яму паглыбляюць.

                                                         На паляначцы сунічнай

                                                         Птушкі выцінаюць.

 

                                                         Вунь дарога, вядзе ў вёску,

                                                         А там людзі свае…

                                                         Нехта з іх даносы піша,

                                                         У гестапа здае.

 

                                                        -- Нашы хлопцы спраўныя,

                                                        Але сэрца баліць.

                                                        Паляцела б у хату,

                                                        Каб абняць, пакарміць.

 

                                                         -- Дзед насупраць жыве.

                                                         Дапаможа, прыйдзе.

                                                         Дзетак ён падтрымае,

                                                         Не пакіне ў бядзе.

 

                                                         Ногі босыя топчуць

                                                         Белаваты пясок,

                                                         Пакідаюць адбітак…

                                                         У яму ўпадзе слядок.

 

                                                         -- Слухай, мілы, каханы!

                                                         Зязюлька кукуе!

                                                         Загадаю жаданне…

                                                         Мо яна нас пачуе.

 

                                                         Папрашу, каб гадочкі

                                                         Нашы тут палічыла.

                                                         Людзі вераць… У зязюлек

                                                         Чарадзейная сіла.

 

                                                         Прагучала каманда…

                                                         Кулі джаляць, ляцяць…

                                                         Перастала зязюля

                                                         У бары кукаваць.

 

                                                         Я стаю ля сасны,

                                                         Размаўляю я з ёю.

                                                         Яна ў тыя гады

                                                         Тут была маладою.                       

                                                                              2022

 

                                                                                                       Аляксей Якімовіч

Абараняй

 

Ёсць сваё, а ёсць чужое.

                                                     Цані чужое, паважай.

                                                     Сваё, спрадвечнае

                                                     Не аддавай, абараняй.

 

                                                     Абараняй сваю зямліцу.

                                                     Яна прыносіць ураджай.

                                                     Калі паклонішся ёй нізка,

                                                     Спячэш духмяны каравай.

 

                                                     Абараняй свае малітвы –

                                                     Веру даўнюю дзядоў.

                                                     Няхай твой дух яна мацуе,

                                                     Няхай прыводзіць да сяброў.

 

                                                     Абараняй культуру, мову.

                                                     Яе Пан Бог калісьці даў.

                                                     Людзей сваяцкіх, блізкіх,

                                                     Як у сям’і, Ён аб’яднаў.

 

                                                     Абараняй свае будынкі.

                                                     Яны – куток утульны твой.

                                                     Туды вяртаешся з дарогі,

                                                     Там вымаўляеш слова “мой”.

 

                                                     Абараняй сваю сямейку.

                                                     Сям’я – апора і надзея.

                                                     Як завірыцца на дварэ,

                                                     Яна цяплом сваім сагрэе.

 

                                                     Абараняй слабых, нямоглых,

                                                     Словам крыўдным не карай

                                                     І поглядам вачэй халодных

                                                     Ніколі іх не абпякай.

 

                                                     Абараняй тыя законы,

                                                     Якія шчасце ўсім нясуць.

                                                     Няхай яны ў маёй краіне

                                                     Хлусню ад праўды адсякуць.

 

                                                     Хай багацеюць нашы людзі.

                                                     Няхай квітнее родны край.

                                                     Праменьчык светлы, добры

                                                     Нам, сонца, з неба прысылай.

                                                                                       2022

 

                                                                                                         Аляксей Якімовіч

Свеціць сонейка

 

Свеціць з неба сонейка,

                                                          Росачкі збірае,

                                                          Хмаркі белагрывыя

                                                          Імі напаўняе.

 

                                                         Пацяжэлі хмаркі,

                                                         Віснуць над зямлёю,

                                                         Утварыўшы ў небе

                                                         Возера з вадою.

 

                                                         Сонца яшчэ свеціць,

                                                         Дзівіцца, смяецца.

                                                         Ведае, што возера,

                                                         Плюхнуўшы, пральецца.

 

                                                         Дожджыкам вясёлым

                                                         Пырсне на палеткі,

                                                         Памочыць травіцу

                                                         І на лузе кветкі.

 

                                                         Ручаёчкі жвавыя

                                                         У лагчыну панясуцца,

                                                         Неўзабаве там усе,

                                                         Як адзін, збяруцца.

 

                                                         Свеціць з неба сонейка,

                                                         Росачкі збірае.

                                                         Спёкай дыхае зямля,                                     

                                                         Дожджыка чакае.                        

                                                                                 2022

 

                                                                                               Аляксей Якімовіч

Восень ідзе

 

                                                       Гучна гудзіць вецер:

                                                       Восень ужо ідзе.

                                                       Срэбраныя ніткі

                                                       Павучок прадзе.

 

                                                      Ловяць іх галінкі,

                                                      Ля сябе трымаюць,

                                                      У далёкі вырай

                                                      Іх не адпускаюць.

 

                                                      Рвуцца павуцінкі,

                                                      Не хочуць тут вісець.

                                                      З птушкамі за мора

                                                       Імкнуцца паляцець.

                                                                            2022

 

                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Лета

 

Лета, лета, лета

                                                            З хмаркамі гуляе.

                                                            Кажу мілай Ганне:

                                                            -- Дзянёк прыбывае.

 

                                                            Лета, лета, лета,

                                                            Будзь з намі даўжэй,

                                                            Цеплынёй і ласкай,

                                                            Лета, нас сагрэй.

 

                                                            Кветкамі ў садочку

                                                            Лета расцвітае.

                                                            Кажу мілай Ганне:

                                                            -- Нам яно спрыяе.

 

                                                            Сустракае лета

                                                            Шчодрымі дажджамі.

                                                            Кажу мілай Ганне:

                                                            -- Будзем мы з грыбамі.

 

                                                            Па лугах зялёных

                                                            Лета з касой ходзіць.

                                                            Кажу мілай Ганне:

                                                            -- Ураджай уродзіць.

 

                                                            Аздабляе лета

                                                            Поле каласамі.

                                                            Кажу мілай Ганне:

                                                            -- Будзем з пірагамі.  

 

                                                            Заплятае лета

                                                            Вогненныя косы.

                                                            Блішчаць на травінках

                                                            Срэбраныя росы.

 

                                                            Лета, лета, лета,

                                                            Будзь з намі даўжэй,

                                                            Цеплынёй і ласкай

                                                            Беларусь сагрэй.

                                                                                 2022

                                                                

                                                                                                   Аляксей Якімовіч                                     

Беларускі паясок

 

Мае ён сваё імя.

                                                            Яго лесам называем.

                                                            У паданнях, песнях, казках

                                                            З часоў даўніх праслаўляем.

 

                                                            Лес частуе нас дарамі,

                                                            Ён нас кліча, запрашае.

                                                            Летам, восенню, вясною,

                                                            Як сяброў сваіх, чакае.

 

                                                            На пагорках, на палянках

                                                            У зялёненькай травіцы

                                                            Спеюць, грэюцца на сонцы

                                                            Пасланцы вясны – суніцы.

 

                                                            Пад сасонкамі чарніцы.

                                                            Нарасло іх тут багата.

                                                            Людзі з вёдрамі ў руках

                                                            Прыбягаюць, як на свята.

 

                                                            Каля елачак, бярозак

                                                            Нас лісічкі сустракаюць.

                                                            Разам, дружнаю сямейкай

                                                            Нам насустрач выбягаюць.

 

                                                            Смачным сокам лес частуе,

                                                            Вабяць вока верасы,

                                                            На ўсю моц, нібыта ў храме,

                                                            Гучаць птушак галасы.

 

                                                            Лёгка дыхаецца ў лесе:

                                                            Кіслароду вельмі шмат.

                                                            Тут мядзяныя сасонкі

                                                            Любяць ладзіць свой парад.

 

                                                            Грыбнікі гукаюць, клічуць:

                                                            Прытаміліся хадзіць.

                                                            Па галінках, як па струнах,

                                                            Рэха звонкае ляціць.

 

                                                            Беражыце лес, лясок –

                                                            Беларускі паясок.

                                                                                        2022

 

                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Мароз сакавіцкі…

 

Мароз сакавіцкі

                                                           Холадам дыхнуў,

                                                           Возера ля лесу

                                                           Лядком зацягнуў.

 

                                                           Засвяціла сонца.

                                                           Заблішчэў лядок.

                                                           Цешыцца, смяецца

                                                           З сонца халадок.

 

                                                           Прыляцела качка.

                                                           Тут жыла заўжды.

                                                           Плавала, гуляла,

                                                           Не ведала бяды.

 

                                                            Хочацца спусціцца,

                                                            Хочацца паплыць.

                                                            Лядок не пускае,

                                                            Нібы сталь, блішчыць.

 

                                                             Узнялася качка,

                                                             Набрала разгон,

                                                             Каменем упала.

                                                             І пачуўся звон.

 

                                                             Зазвінеў і трэснуў

                                                             Тоненькі лядок.

                                                             Скурчыўся, уздыхнуўшы,

                                                             Дужы халадок.

 

                                                             Рэжа ваду качка.

                                                             Сонейка ўсміхнулася,

                                                             Залатымі  промнямі

                                                             Да птушкі дакранулася.

 

                                                             Тонкі, тоненькі лядок

                                                             Ззаду застаецца.

                                                             Плыве качка па вадзе.

                                                             Качка не здаецца.

                                                                                    2022

 

                                                                                                 Аляксей Якімовіч

Надзея

 

Пастрасала восень лісце,

                                                         Адышла з дажджамі.

                                                         Падкрадаецца зіма

                                                         Цёмнымі начамі.

                                                         

                                                         Кружацца сняжынкі,

                                                Выбіраюць сабе шлях.

                                                Да зямлі не далятаюць,

                                                Растаюць у маіх грудзях.

 

                                                Над палямі вецярок

                                                Цешыцца, гуляе.

                                                Сівы іней на балоце

                                                Траву засцілае.

 

                                                Па зямлі цвёрдай ступаю.

                                                Абнімае халадок.

                                                А ў вушах, зімой прысланы,

                                                Хрумсціць тоненькі лядок.

 

                                                Вясна прыйдзе і сагрэе:

                                                Сонца слухае яе.

                                                Вясна-матухна надзею

                                                Прысылае нам, дае.

                                                                       2022

 

                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Зіма

 

На санях ледзяных

                                                         Зіма выязджае,

                                                          Пугаю са снегу

                                                          Каня паганяе.

 

                                                          Людзям майго краю

                                                          Сілу паказала:

                                                          Са сняжынак пакрывала

                                                          Белае саткала.

 

                                                          Шапкі цяжкія на елках

                                                          Гнуць зялёныя галінкі.

                                                          Кружацца, як пчолкі,

                                                          Сыплюцца сняжынкі.

 

                                                          Сонейка нясмела

                                                          Выглянула з неба.

                                                          Ля кармушак птушкі

                                                          Ціха просяць хлеба.

 

                                                          Гурбы, як грыбочкі,

                                                          Растуць, падрастаюць.

                                                          Сані ледзяныя

                                                          Іх рэжуць, рассякаюць.

 

                                                          А яна рагоча,

                                                          Цешыцца, смяецца.

                                                          Па зямлі імкліва

                                                          Белы конь нясецца.

 

                                                          Прыляцеў вятрыска,

                                                          Вые, завывае.

                                                          Падабраў ён песню,

                                                          Для зімы спявае.

 

                                                          Дыхае марозам.

                                                          Рэкі застываюць.

                                                          Вясна прыйдзе, будзе.

                                                          Людзі пачакаюць.

                                                                              2022

 

                                                                                                 Аляксей Якімовіч

Снег ідзе

 

З неба падаюць сняжынкі,

                                                   Дружна кружацца, ляцяць.

                                                   Мне здаецца: усю прастору

                                                   Хочуць холадам абняць.

 

                                                   Снег ідзе, ідзе, ідзе.

                                                   У садку гарой расце.

                                                   На галінках павуцінкі

                                                   Свае белыя пляце.

 

                                                   Наваколле анямела,

                                                   Прытаілася, маўчыць.

                                                   Каля берага рачулкі

                                                   Лядок тоненькі блішчыць.

                                                                                   2022

 

                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Пячэ мама пірагі

 

Цячэ рэчка, цячэ рэчка.

                                                    У кожнай рэчкі берагі.

                                                    Сёння свята ў нашай хаце:

                                                    Пячэ мама пірагі.

 

                                                    Пірагі ў гарачай печы,

                                                    Жарам дыхае яна.

                                                    Стол дашчаны з мылам мые

                                                    Мая мама ля акна.

 

                                                    Пірагі пякуцца ў печы,

                                                    Ружавеюць, падрастаюць.

                                                    На хвілінку мне здалося:

                                                    Як жывыя, уздыхаюць.

 

                                                    На дварэ птушка шчабеча,

                                                    Сваю песеньку пяе.

                                                    Пірагі нашы спякліся.

                                                    Мама з печы дастае.

 

                                                    Дастае, на стол кладзе іх,

                                                    Ручнікамі накрывае.

                                                    Сонца злезла з вышыні,

                                                    У хату свеціць, пазірае.

 

                                                    Я гляджу на пірагі.

                                                    Для мяне яны як казка.

                                                    Цёпла-цёпла на душы.

                                                    Грэе мамы маёй ласка.

 

                                                    Цячэ рэчка, цячэ рэчка,

                                                    У кожнай рэчкі берагі.

                                                    Сёння свята ў нашай хаце:

                                                    Спякла мама пірагі.

                                                                                 2022

 

                                                                                                Аляксей Якімовіч

Запрасіў

 

Бусел сена накасіў

                                                         І гняздо сабе зрабіў.

                                                         А як сонейка зайшло,

                                                         Жабу ў госці запрасіў.

 

                                                         Жаба цешыцца, увіхаецца,

                                                         Да бусла збіраецца.

                                                         Бант з куфэрачка дастала

                                                         І на шыю навязала.

 

                                                         Камары павыляталі,

                                                         На ўвесь голас закрычалі:

                                                         -- Туды ў госці не ідзі,

                                                         Лепей дома пасядзі!

 

                                                         Бусел дзюбай моцна б’ецца,

                                                         Пазбыткуе, пасмяецца.

                                                         Ён прымусіць клякатаць,

                                                         Па-буслінаму спяваць.

 

                                                         -- Хачу быць сама сабою, --

                                                         Пакруціўшы галавою,

                                                         Камарам жаба сказала.

                                                         Бант у куфэрачак схавала.

                                                                                   2022

 

                                                                                                 Аляксей Якімовіч

Залатыя думкі

 

                                                             Залатая пчала,

                                                             Залатая дажджынка,

                                                             Залатая мама,

                                                             Залатая хвілінка.

 

                                                             Залатая сенажаць,

                                                             Залатая дзяўчынка,

                                                             Залатая бабуля,

                                                             Залатая іскрынка.

 

                                                             Залаты дзядуля,

                                                             Залаты дзянёк,

                                                             Залаты падарунак,

                                                             Залаты каласок.

 

                                                             Залаты хлапчук,

                                                             Залаты лужок,

                                                             Залаты медаль,

                                                             Залаты беражок.

 

                                                             Залатыя рукі,

                                                             Залатыя валасы,

                                                             Залатыя песні,

                                                             Залатыя галасы.

 

                                                             Залатыя сосны,

                                                             Залатыя кветкі,

                                                             Залатыя людзі,

                                                             Залатыя палеткі.

 

                                                             Залатое сэрца,

                                                             Залатое насенне,

                                                             Залатое сонца,

                                                             Залатое імгненне.

 

                                                             Залатое слова,

                                                             Залатое ранне,

                                                             Залатое жыццё,

                                                             Залатое каханне.

 

                                                             Залатая восень,

                                                             Залатая зара,

                                                             Залатое дзяцінства –

                                                             Залатая пара.

                                                                                2022

 

                                                                                                    Аляксей Якімовіч

Калыханка

 

                                                Спяць, заснулі луг і лес.

                                                Спіць у полі каласок.

                                                Разам з імі засынай,

                                                Даражэнькі мой сынок.

 

                                                Спяць і зайцы, і лісіцы,

                                                У нары спіць барсучок.

                                                 Разам з імі засынай,

                                                 Мая радасць, мой сынок.

 

                                                 Люлі-люлі-люлі…

                                                 Не гуляюць гулі.

                                                 Люлі-люлі-люлі…

                                                 Спаць пайшлі, заснулі.

                                                                         2022

 

                                                                                                 Аляксей Якімовіч

Добры дзень

                    

“Добры дзень” у хату

                                                       Нашу запрашаем,

                                                       Песні беларускія

                                                       Разам паспяваем.

 

                                                       Ля асінак тонкіх

                                                       Ой, цячэ крынічка,

                                                       Поіць беларусаў

                                                       Чыстаю вадзічкай.

 

                                                       Ля крынічкі звонкай

                                                       Салавей клякоча,

                                                       Хмара праплывае,

                                                       Бліскае, грукоча.

 

                                                       Слухае крыніца,

                                                       Слухаюць асінкі.

                                                       Цалуюць зямліцу

                                                       Цёплыя дажджынкі.

 

                                                       Паспявалі гэту.

                                                       Дык пачнём другую

                                                       Пра старонку слаўную,

                                                       Мілую такую.

 

                                                       Сёння ў вёсцы свята:

                                                       Ураджай сабралі,

                                                       Цёплаю парою

                                                       Дружна працавалі.

 

                                                       Іграе гармонік,

                                                       Скрыпка выцінае.

                                                       Павучок на павуцінцы

                                                       Ціха падлятае.

 

                                                       Восень залатая

                                                       Прыйшла, завітала.

                                                       Караваем свежым

                                                        Нас пачаставала.

 

                                                        -- Добры дзень, -- ад душы

                                                        Добрым людзям скажам.

                                                        Са сцяблінак залатых                       

                                                        Для іх снопік звяжам.

                                                                                         2022

 

                                                                                                  Аляксей Якімовіч

Летняя раніца

 

Яна раненька ўстае,

                                                            Косы заплятае,

                                                            Залатыя промні

                                                            Шчодра рассыпае.

 

                                                            Раніца, раніца

                                                            Дзень распачынае,

                                                            Раніца дзівосная

                                                            Цемру праганяе.

 

                                                           На лугах зялёных

                                                           Летняю парою

                                                           Яна кветкі мые

                                                           Срэбнаю расою.

 

                                                           З птушкамі сябруе,

                                                           Птушачкам спрыяе,

                                                           На чароўнай скрыпачцы

                                                           Цешыцца, іграе.

 

                                                           Каля рэчкі над кустамі

                                                           Туман навісае.

                                                           Пакрывала шэрае

                                                           Раніца знімае.

 

                                                           Прачынаецца краіна,

                                                           Абудзілася, не спіць.

                                                           Нібы песня, нібы казка,

                                                           “Добрай раніцы”, -- гучыць.

 

                                                           Раніца, раніца

                                                           Дзень распачынае.

                                                           Раніца дзівосная

                                                           Дзверы адчыняе.

                                                                              2023

 

                                                                                                    Аляксей Якімовіч

Школьныя прыпеўкі

 

Матэматыку люблю,

                                                       Вельмі паважаю.

                                                       Мяч футбольны галавой

                                                       Сто раз падбіваю.

 

                                                       У заапарку мы былі.

                                                       Леў зачынены ляжаў.

                                                       Я яго не пабаяўся:

                                                       Язык яму паказаў.

 

                                                      У школу раніцай ішоў.

                                                      Камары дагналі.

                                                      Ім падручнік паказаў –

                                                      Яны паўцякалі.

 

                                                      Разышліся двойкі:

                                                      Польку станцавалі.

                                                      Нарабілі мне бяды:

                                                      Мой партфель парвалі.

 

                                                      Я стаю ля дошкі,

                                                      Задачу рашаю.

                                                      Бяда напаткала:

                                                      Розуму не маю.

 

                                                      Геаграфію цяпер

                                                      Практычна вывучаю.

                                                      У мамы грошай папрашу

                                                      І ў Кітай злятаю.

 

                                                      За суседа я схаваўся,

                                                      Бо не вывучыў урок.

                                                      Учора моцна захварэў:

                                                      Адляжаў на ложку бок.

 

                                                      На ўроку я сяджу,

                                                      Чухаю галоўку.

                                                      Хутка першы палячу

                                                      У школьную сталоўку.

 

                                                      Пасадзілі дрэўцы мы.

                                                      Думалі: рабінкі.

                                                      Паглядзеў старэйшы брат

                                                      І сказаў: “Асінкі!”

 

                                                      Сёння дзве гадзіны

                                                      За мухаю ганялася.

                                                      Да сяброўкі не пайду:

                                                      Я ўжо нагулялася.

 

                                                      Сяджу на канапе,

                                                      Раблю самалёцік.

                                                     Урокі сёння не вучу.

                                                     Няхай вучыць коцік.

 

                                                     Не пайшлі з сябрам у школу,

                                                     Урокі прагулялі:

                                                     Птушкі з выраю ляцелі –

                                                     Мы іх сустракалі.

 

                                                     Мне падручнік новы

                                                     Падала Анжэла.

                                                     Калі я яго падняў,

                                                     Спіна забалела.

 

                                                     Матэматыку люблю,

                                                     Мовай захапляюся.

                                                     Калі ў школу я іду,

                                                     Людзям усміхаюся.

 

                                                     Я чытала, я пісала,

                                                     Правіла вучыла.

                                                     Кепскую адзнаку

                                                     У дзённік не пусціла.

 

                                                      Бег і спатыкнуўся,

                                                      Стукнуўся каленам.

                                                      Але я не плачу:

                                                      Хачу стаць спартсменам.

 

                                                     На ўроку малявання

                                                     Час я не марную.

                                                     Калі вырасту вялікі,

                                                     Маму намалюю.

                                                                           2022