Ритмико-мелодические и лексико-стилистические характеристики стихотворного текста (на материале творчества английских детских поэтов 20 века)

В фонетическом аспекте выделено доминирующее положение стихотворного размера ямба (47%), а также применение хорея, дактиля, амфибрахия и вольного размера. Среди фонетических выразительных средств детские поэты используют практически в равном соотношении ономатопею, аллитерацию, междометия и, реже, звуковой повтор.
Лингвостилистический анализ стихотворений позволил выявить доминирующие и менее частотные средства на уровне лексики, стилистики, морфологии и синтаксиса. Среди лексических средств чаще всего в поэзию встречаются имена собственные (38%) и термины, а также отмечается использование архаизмов, книжной и разговорной лексики и диминутивов. Из стилистических средств образности чаще всего в детской поэзии наблюдается олицетворение (25%), а также сравнение, лексический повтор, антитеза, эпитет. Редкими приемами являются метафора, гипербола и идиома. Среди морфологических средств доминирующее положение не выявлено. Примерно в равном соотношении в деткой поэзии XX века используются конверсия, обращение, сокращения и искажения. На уровне синтаксиса преимущественное положение занимают вставные конструкции (37%). Другими синтаксическими особенностями стихотворений детских поэтов являются параллелизм, повтор, полисиндетон, вопросительные и восклицательные конструкции, прямая речь, анафора и инверсия.
В тематико-идеологическом аспекте выделены темы, поднимаемые в детской поэзии, среди которых отмечены природа, дружба, взаимоотношение детей и родителей, соотношение работы и отдыха.











ЗАКЛЮЧЕНИЕ
В ходе проведения исследования мы пришли к выводу, что поэтический текст – это специфическое речевое произведение, отражающее авторский замысел, благодаря которому формируется целостность текста, воздействующее на читателя эстетически и эмоционально. Среди главных характеристик поэтического текста выделяются ритма, рифм, размер, краткость слов и строк, особая звукопись и звукосимволизм, образность, эмоциональность и оценочность.
Детская поэзия имеет особые черты, которые иногда отличают ее от поэзии для взрослой аудитории. Детская поэзия более доходчива, динамична, поучительна, сюжетна и занимательна. Рифма и ритм здесь играет более высокую роль. Детская поэзия насыщена повторами, звукоизобразительными средствами разных языковых уровней, ключевой лексикой, отражающей базовые концепты.
Творчество детских поэтов рассмотрено на основе поэтов XX века. Их объединяет единый период творения (XX в.), литературное творчество, направленное, помимо всего прочего, на детскую аудиторию. Среди поэтов были отобраны Ш. Силверстайн, Э.А. Гест, А.А. Милн, Э.Ф. Браун и Э.Э. Каммингс.
В фонетическом аспекте детская поэзия характеризуется смешением стихотворных размеров (с преимущественным положением ямба) и вольностью в составлении структуры стихотворения. В творчестве детских поэтов XX в. выделяются рифмы разного типа: смежные, перекрестные, опоясывающие, мужские и женские. Среди фонетических характеристик также выделены ономатопея (звукоподражание), аллитерация, использование междометий и звуковых повторов.
На уровне лексики детская поэзия XX века характеризуется обилием имен собственных (имен персонажей, исходя из сюжетности детской поэзии), использованием специальной терминологии (в отдельных случаях), вкраплениями книжной и разговорной лексики, устаревшей лексикой, имеющей возвышенный характер, и обилием диминутивов. Среди стилистических тропов в поэтических произведениях поэтов XX века выделено преимущественное использование олицетворений, сравнений и лексического повтора, а также более редкое применение антитезы, эпитета, метафоры, гиперболы и идиом. Морфологические характеристики заключаются в конверсивных образованиях, обилии обращений (к читателю или персонажу), грамматических сокращениях, ознаменовывающих разговорность стихотворения, и фонетических искажений в связи с требованиями ритма и рифмы. На уровне синтаксиса выделено преимущественное положение вставных конструкций и повторов разного типа. Также здесь встречаются разные типы предложений (вопросительные, восклицательные), введение прямой речи, инверсия, полисиндетон для обеспечения динамики в детской поэзии.
Рассмотрев идеологию детской поэзии, мы сделали вывод, что чаще всего поэты поднимают такие темы в своих произведениях, как природа, дружба, взаимоотношение детей и родителей, соотношение работы и отдыха. Ключевыми словами являются тематические группы лексики природы, моря, волшебства.












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Приложение А
Стихотворения английских поэтов XX в., проанализированные в работе
1 Sick
By Shel Silverstein
“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more--that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!” 2 Lester
By Shel Silverstein
Lester was given a magic wish
By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
And with his wish he wished for two more wishes-
So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
And with each one of these
He simply wished for three more wishes,
Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
And with each of these twelve
He slyly wished for three more wishes,
Which added up to forty-six -- or is it fifty-two?
Well anyway, he used each wish
To wish for wishes 'til he had
Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
And then he spread them on the ground
And clapped his hands and danced around
And skipped and sang, and then sat down
And wished for more.
And more...and more...they multiplied
While other people smiled and cried
And loved and reached and touched and felt.
Lester sat amid his wealth
Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
Sat and counted -- and grew old.
And then one Thursday night they found him
Dead -- with his wishes piled around him.
And they counted the lot and found that not
A single one was missing.
All shiny and new -- here, take a few
And think of Lester as you do.
In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing. 3 Listen To The MUSTN'TS
By Shel Silverstein
Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me-
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be. 4 Story Telling
By Edgar Guest
Most every night when they're in bed,
And both their little prayers have said,
They shout for me to come upstairs
And tell them tales of gypsies bold,
And eagles with the claws that hold
A baby's weight, and fairy sprites
That roam the woods on starry nights.

And I must illustrate these tales,
Must imitate the northern gales
That toss the native man's canoe,
And show the way he paddles, too.
If in the story comes a bear,
I have to pause and sniff the air
And show the way he climbs the trees
To steal the honey from the bees.

And then I buzz like angry bees
And sting him on his nose and knees
And howl in pain, till mother cries:
"That pair will never shut their eyes,
While all that noise up there you make;
You're simply keeping them awake."
And then they whisper: "Just one more,"
And once again I'm forced to roar.

New stories every night they ask.
And that is not an easy task;
I have to be so many things,
The frog that croaks, the lark that sings,
The cunning fox, the frightened hen;
But just last night they stumped me, when
They wanted me to twist and squirm
And imitate an angle worm.

At last they tumble off to sleep,
And softly from their room I creep
And brush and comb the shock of hair
I tossed about to be a bear.
Then mother says: "Well, I should say
You're just as much a child as they."
But you can bet I'll not resign
That story telling job of mine. 5 At Christmas
By Edgar Guest
A man is at his finest
towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be
when the Christmas season is here;
Then he's thinking more of others
than he's thought the months before,
And the laughter of his children
is a joy worth toiling for.
He is less a selfish creature than
at any other time;
When the Christmas spirit rules him
he comes close to the sublime.

When it's Christmas man is bigger
and is better in his part;
He is keener for the service
that is prompted by the heart.
All the petty thoughts and narrow
seem to vanish for awhile
And the true reward he's seeking
is the glory of a smile.
Then for others he is toiling and
somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas he is almost
what God wanted him to be.

If I had to paint a picture of a man
I think I'd wait
Till he'd fought his selfish battles
and had put aside his hate.
I'd not catch him at his labors
when his thoughts are all of pelf,
On the long days and the dreary
when he's striving for himself.
I'd not take him when he's sneering,
when he's scornful or depressed,
But I'd look for him at Christmas
when he's shining at his best.

Man is ever in a struggle
and he's oft misunderstood;
There are days the worst that's in him
is the master of the good,
But at Christmas kindness rules him
and he puts himself aside
And his petty hates are vanquished
and his heart is opened wide.
Oh, I don't know how to say it,
but somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas man is almost
what God sent him here to be. 6 The Responsibility Of Fatherhood
By Edgar Guest
BEFORE you came, my little lad,
I used to think that I was good,
Some vicious habits, too, I had,
But wouldn't change them if I could.
I held my head up high and said:
'I'm all that I have need to be,
It matters not what path I tread,'
But that was ere you came to me.

I treated lightly sacred things,
And went my way in search of fun,
Upon myself I kept no strings,
And gave no heed to folly done.
I gave myself up to the fight
For worldly wealth and earthly fame,
And sought advantage, wrong or right,
But that was long before you came.

But now you sit across from me,
Your big brown eyes are opened wide,
And every deed I do you see,
And, O, I dare hot step aside.
I've shaken loose from habits bad,
And what is wrong I've come to dread,
Because I know, my little lad,
That you will follow where I tread.

I want those eyes to glow with pride,
In me I want those eyes to see
The while we wander side by side
The sort of man I'd have you be.
And so I'm striving to be good
With all my might, that you may know
When this great world is understood,
What pleasures are worth while below.

I see life in a different light
From what I did before you came,
Then anything that pleased seemed right;
But you are here to bear my name,
And you are looking up to me
With those big eyes from day to day,
And I'm determined not to be
The means of leading you astray. 7 Wind On The Hill
By A. A. Milne
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows. 8 Us Two
By A. A. Milne
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.

"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.

"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.

"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.

"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."

So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh. 9 Waiting At The Window
By A. A. Milne
These are my two drops of rain
Waiting on the window-pane.

I am waiting here to see
Which the winning one will be.

Both of them have different names.
One is John and one is James.

All the best and all the worst
Comes from which of them is first.

James has just begun to ooze.
He's the one I want to lose.

John is waiting to begin.
He's the one I want to win.

James is going slowly on.
Something sort of sticks to John.

John is moving off at last.
James is going pretty fast.

John is rushing down the pane.
James is going slow again.

James has met a sort of smear.
John is getting very near.

Is he going fast enough?
(James has found a piece of fluff.)

John has quickly hurried by.
(James was talking to a fly.)

John is there, and John has won!
Look! I told you! Here's the sun! 10 Friends
By Abbie Farwell Brown
How good to lie a little while
And look up through the tree!
The Sky is like a kind big smile
Bent sweetly over me.

The Sunshine flickers through the lace
Of leaves above my head,
And kisses me upon the face
Like Mother, before bed.

The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass
To whisper pretty things;
And though I cannot see him pass,
I feel his careful wings.

So many gentle Friends are near
Whom one can scarcely see,
A child should never feel a fear,
Wherever he may be. 11 The Fisherman
By Abbie Farwell Brown
The fisherman goes out at dawn
When every one's abed,
And from the bottom of the sea
Draws up his daily bread.

His life is strange ; half on the shore
And half upon the sea --
Not quite a fish, and yet not quite
The same as you and me.

The fisherman has curious eyes ;
They make you feel so queer,
As if they had seen many things
Of wonder and of fear.

They're like the sea on foggy days, --
Not gray, nor yet quite blue ;
They 're like the wondrous tales he tells
Not quite -- yet maybe -- true.

He knows so much of boats and tides,
Of winds and clouds and sky !
But when I tell of city things,
He sniffs and shuts one eye ! 12 I Did Not Know
By Abbie Farwell Brown
I did not know—
And it was but a few short days ago—
How near to spring, it was; the world lay still
In all the bitter cold of winter chill;
Yet even then the May-buds with the glow
Of burning lips pressed to the melting snow
Had kissed themselves a window, to the sky,—
And spring was nigh.

I did not know—
Ah, was it such a little while ago!—
Within my heart how near it was to spring;
I did not guess the blessed blossoming,
Until this gladsome morn I woke, and lo!
Sweet with new fragrance does the whole world grow
From that so fair and snow-sprung flower dear,—
And spring is here! 13 Maggie And Milly And Molly And May
By E.E. Cummings
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea 14 Somewhere I Have Never Travelled, Gladly Beyond
By E.E. Cummings
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands 15 i Carry Your Heart With Me
By E.E. Cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)















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