автор: Исмагилова Эльвира Равефовна
Учитель английского языка МБОУ “Сизинская ООШ” Арского муниципального района Республики Татарстан
“Внеклассное мероприятие по английскому языку”
Внеклассное мероприятие, посвящённое 132-летию со дня рождения великого татарского поэта Г.Тукая на английском языке
Цель : популяризация литературного и творческого наследия Г.Тукая, углубления знаний обучающихся о жизни и творчестве поэта на английском языке, развитие интеллектуальных и творческих способностей обучающихся, улучшение внеклассной работы по английскому языку
Оформление зала:
Татарский дом с татарскими орнаментами внутри, кровать, колыбель, стол, на стене портрет Г.Тукая, обрамленный красной тканью, перед картиной цветы, на стене картинки и рисунки, на кровати подушки с вышивкой,поделки, аппликации детей на стихи Г.Тукая, телевизор с видеозаписями мультфильмов из сказок поэта, играет тихая музыка из произведений
Г. Тукая
Участники: бабушка, внук, внучка, дети-гости, дети в костюмах Бабочки, щенка, яблони, соловья, солнца.
Tukay is the symbol of the Tatar nation
Sitting at the table grandmother is singing the song “Native language” by GabdullaTukay.
Grandmother:
Oh, my native tongue, there is no other
Like the one spoken by my father and mother.
Whatever I have learned since when I was young
It is all thanks to you, my sweet native tongue…
Grandson:
Oh, Grandma, I can sing it too (singing):
My first words to utter I was not yet able,
Mother sang me lullabies, while rocking my cradle.
I’ll forever remember the tales from my granny –
She told me one each night, of them she knew so many.
Granddaughter: (coming into the house and holding flowers in her hands? singing)
Fun all over the world, there is one charm today!
— Why is that? I know today is a holiday, holiday today!
Grandmother:
I am very proud of you. You know poems of our great poet. Today is his birthday.
Tukaiis a gift given to us by God, it is a clear mirror of ourselves. His spiritual heritage left to us is not limited by any boundaries. His measure is eternity.
Grandson:
He is the symbol of the Tatar nation
Granddaughter (putting her flowers in front of the Tukay’s portrait):
“What a great poet!” told Sergey Yesenin about Tukay.
The name of Tukay means a whole epoch in the intellectual development of the Tatar people, its literature, art and the whole culture making.
Grandmother:
My dear kids, I offer you to invite your friends to celebrate Tukay’s birthday. Go and say them. I want poet’s soul to be happy. I want to improve that people don’t forget him, children learn their poems by heart…
Grandson, granddaughter: Ok, grandma. We think they’ll come with pleasure.
Grandmother (singing)
If it weren’t for you, oh my beautiful tongue,
To this day I’d be speechless and hopelessly numb…
But you are so gracious, together did we grow,
You taught me to express my happiness and sorrow.
( there is a knock on the door. Children are coming , holding pictures, handicrafts)
Children:
1.Good afternoon!
- How are you dear grandma?
- Thanks for your inviting.
- We painted and drew to Gabdulla Tukay’s poems
- We made handicrafts
- We learned his poems and songs
Grandmother (singing)
I am glad to see you my dear kids! Take your seats. Today we are going to have our “literary sitting-room”, devoted to Tukay. Tukay, a poet of genius and eternal orphan, was doomed in his short life to experience all the bitterness of homelessness and human misunderstanding. His penetrating poems, written in a living, clear moving language, convey the orphan state of the Tatar people.
Listen his poem :” To a child”
Buddy, don’t be afraid of Shurale, don’t be afraid of witches and devils,
No one, trust me, never met such guests.
Such fictions, my friend, is just the fog of yore;
Not intimidating, and makes us laugh the devil of yore.
For a vampire there is no wasteland, a lair for a demon;
For nedotepyShurale virgin forest there.
So try the same, my friend, all science is
And soon, truth from falsehood, you will be able to distinguish.
Children: It was great, grandma! Thanks so much!
Alina:
Our country`s rich in poets great
Who wanted to extol
The beauty of their native land.
They`ve written about life and love
About peace and wars and, thus,
They glorify Tatarstan.
Among the names there is one
Whose poems loved by everyone
The people call him Gabdulla
And he is very popular.
Among the old, among the young,
Among all peoples of Tatarstan.
How sad that he has left the world
When he was only thirty years old.
It`s great sorrow he died young
Leaving so many thing undone.
His poems prove that he will die never
And GabdullaTukai lives in our hearts forever.
Amir: Oh, there are guests coming to us. Welcome, a funny student with his puppy!
( two boys are telling “A funny student. Tatar language version is shown on TV without sound)
Ranil( a boy):
Akbai, come on! Be trained! On hind paws stand a bit!
Don’t fall, don’t fall! Stand straight! And now-sit!
Azat (Akbai):
-Why do you torment me? I am so small,
Barely three months have passed since I was born!
I am not up for it, I won’t be taught, no way.
I ony want to rol on grass, have fun and play.
Ranil:
- You silly puppy! Learn, while you’re stil small,
It gets so harder, as the years roll.
Yazgul:
I drew a picture about a little tiny butterfly and a child. Do you like it?
Ramzil and Adelinaare performing it.
Ramzil (a child):
Tiny little Butterfly,
Will you ever tell me, why,
Flying since the crack of dawn,
You are not fatigued or worn?
Is your living sour or sweet?
How do you make ends meet?
Tel me, where, if you would,
Are you finding al your food?
Adelina( a butterfly):
In the woodlands, in the fields
In the meadows are my yieds;
Here’s where I fly and play
On a brilliant summer’s day.
Loved and cherished by sunlight,
I keep flowers in my sight:
Their blossoms, when in bloom,
Nourish me with sweet perfume.
Yet, my life is short, I say,
It but lasts a single day,
Be a good and gentle boy,
Do not hurt me, nor destroy!.
Chidren: Thanks a lot!
Amir: “ Gali and the Goat” was my favourite poem when I was a kid of4-5 years.
The Goat’s, to Gali, a dear friend;
Into the window pane she sticks her head.
Gali plays host and gives her grass for food:
The Goat shakes her beard in gratitude.
Yazgul:
Listen to my reading attentively and guess what poem is it?
Look, Lamiga is now engrossed in sewing.
A garment for her doll- that’s what she’s doing!
“ When will I have it”- asks the doll, reclining;
“I cannot wait-the holiday is coming”.
The cat meanwhile is staring at the bobbin:
“Will it now move-will it at last start rolling?”
And then she’ll bounce and grab it, as a ball,
And she will chase it round, just let it roll!
She has no other worry but to play:
Michievous, drolly cat! She’d play all day!
Chidren: “Naughty cat”.
Now we’ll perform “Work done, have your fun”.
Asya (the author):
A fair warm day and by the window glass,
A small Boy’s reading for tomorrow’s class.
And through the window glass there calls the Sun:
Granddaughter: (the Sun):
“Come on, my Boy, come out, have fun with me!”
Asya (the author):
The Apple-tree, that in the garden stands,
Says :
Aizirak (apple-tree):
“Boy, have fun, you’ll later make amends!”
Narkis (the boy):
“No, I’ll catch up with the fun,
I’ll never pay until my work is done”.
Asya (the author):
The apple-tree insists:
Aizirak (apple-tree):
“You’ve had your way,
Don’t toil inside-it’s such a pleasant day!”
Narkis (the boy):
“ Just wait for me, be patient, Tree and Sun;
No fun in playing games, when work’s undone”.
Asya (the author):
And when the child was through with all his work,
He left his books, went out for a walk:
Narkis (the boy):
“Hey! Who called for me today?
Through with my studies, I am free to play!”
Asya (the author):
The Sun then granted him his brightest smile;
The Apple-Tree gave him her nicest apple!
The Nightingale then sang his fairest song to him;
The trees bowed their heads in front of him.
Grandmother:
Dear children, you’ re very talented. I am sure, our country will proud of you. Because you know GabdullaTukay’s poems by heart.
Children:
Thanks, grandma!
Let’s sing “Native language”
My Native Tongue
Oh, my native tongue, there is no other
Like the one spoken by my father and mother.
Whatever I have learned since when I was young
It is all thanks to you, my sweet native tongue.
My first words to utter I was not yet able,
Mother sang me lullabies, while rocking my cradle.
I’ll forever remember the tales from my granny –
She told me one each night, of them she knew so many.
If it weren’t for you, oh my beautiful tongue,
To this day I’d be speechless and hopelessly numb…
But you are so gracious, together did we grow,
You taught me to express my happiness and sorrow.
Oh, my native tongue, how could I ever forget
That first prayer to Allah, which I myself read?
“ Oh, Lord Almighty, in your mercy, please save
My poor parents and me – I’m your humble slave.”
Chidren: Thanks for attention!