Quotes from the book. Altai is a fabulous land

And Altai... Mountains and valleys, forests and steppes, lakes and turbulent rivers: all this is Altai. When I returned from there, I did not know how to describe what I saw. I could definitely say that, being in the Caucasus, I saw magnificent mountains- perhaps best mountains in the world, in my purely subjective opinion. Having visited Kamchatka, the country of volcanoes, I admired these giants that amaze the imagination, and in Dagestan I met wonderful craftsmen who give birth to wonderful things. I told all this to my friends more than once during endlessly long evenings in the kitchen, and also described it in my posts. But when the turn came to say something about the trip to Altai, I was at a loss: nothing flew from my tongue. speaking phrases, like " beautiful mountains”, “beautiful lakes”, “ beautiful forests and valleys”… I realized that it is very difficult to tell about such an amazing, enchanting, magical region as Altai. Impossible! I myself, when we drove through the next picturesque turn, understood that it was already indecent to admire aloud the newly seen splendor, but an exhalation of admiration escaped from the lungs: “beauty again”!

And now, several months later, sitting at home in front of a computer screen, the time has come for me to write about Altai, and, thinking about the experience, I deeply immersed myself in memories.

We entered mountain Altai in the same way as all motorists do: along the Chuisky tract. The road was perfect, which surprised us a lot. For some reason, we expected to see the usual old road, smashed by trucks and patched up by our talented road services. But instead, we were driving along a perfectly smooth, velvet-like two-lane highway with brand new markings and clean road signs.

I heard opinions that the Altai Territory is very beautiful and convenient in relation to climatic conditions a place far from environmentally polluted industries attracts the mighty of the world now and in the indefinite future should become a kind of closed reservation for the world elite.

Roads under construction - and, moreover, of excellent quality, such that it does not happen everywhere in Moscow - are the first herald of this trend.

In terms of everyday life, our stay in Altai was very simple: every time it started to get dark, we found some highest place where they set up tents and, if possible, kindled a fire. Our very first such overnight stay turned out to be the most memorable and mystical, so we made very few shots of this place. It was enough to drive a few kilometers from the main road to get into such beauty.

And in the morning the road again ...

… and in the evening again the highest place

This is the Ulagan plateau. I will not describe where it is and how to get there: there is plenty of this information on the Internet and everything can be found on the map. But I will definitely say that everyone should come there. It's not only Beautiful places, but also ancient history, which has survived to our time in the form of the Pazyryk culture.

The Ulagan plateau is quite extensive: it took us almost all day to get to its edge - the Katu-Yaryk pass, behind which a steep serpentine descends into the Chulyshman River Valley.

Many come here to engage in active recreation. We have often seen cars loaded with bicycles for the whole family. And it is not known how many tourists who went with backpacks to the mountains, we did not see. We even found the Russian championship in paragliding: its participants, together with their families, come to Altai and live for quite a long time in their secluded tent city leaving during the day for competitions.

On the way back, we admired the Severo-Chuysky ridge, which is perfectly visible from the height of the Ulagansky plateau.

We spent two days on the Ulagan plateau, which were clearly not enough. If it weren’t for the prearranged and always interfering plans, we would have stayed there for more than one night with great pleasure. On the way back, by the way, we did just that. But while our road led to the Mongolian border, we hurried to visit all those places that we had planned for ourselves in advance. After Ulagan, the landscape changed, and the greenery gave way to steppe colors.

We drove to the village of Kosh-Agach, which is already very close to the border with Mongolia, and decided to spend the night there. At sunset, we managed to drive across the steppe surrounding the village for many kilometers around.

In the village, we drove such a wonderful grandmother, whom we could not help photographing for the last time. In the conversation, we learned that her name is Nina and that she has not a lot, not a little, but 12 children and 23 grandchildren.

We were already very close to the Mongolian border, but the next day we decided to turn off the Chuysky tract and go towards the border with China - on the Ukok plateau, to the Dzhumalinsky warm springs. The road deteriorated sharply, turning from beautiful smooth asphalt into rubble and dust. A few kilometers after Kosh-Agach, we met a frontier post, where they let us through without any problems, naturally looking at our passports. Then we ended up in a real paradise!

Despite the fact that we left quite early, and the springs were only about 80 kilometers away, we spent the whole day on the road and arrived at the place only in the evening twilight.

The springs turned out to be equipped with small houses in which anyone can live for free. You just need to have everything you need for life with you. We chose one of the houses, but after a while locals appeared who began to demand money for everything. We would not even mind if it was an adequate price. But the guys wanted a lot and at once for everything: for the house, for the parking lot, for the fire, for the garbage, and so on. It became clear that this was a scam, so we drove off 100 meters and got up with tents. The mood was spoiled. In the morning we quickly packed up and drove back, fearing that there might not be enough gasoline for the further walk.

From that moment on, we began to move into reverse direction, passing the same places, but discovering new beauties that were not noticed before. A random episode was a check-in to the dead village of Beltir, about which there will be a separate post.

This ended our trip. And now, describing our journey through Altai, I thought about what I remember this region most of all. For me, perhaps, the most characteristic thing that could convey the charm of these places was harmony and proportionality, that human scale that unites mountains, valleys, lakes, steppe, and forests into one whole. This balance makes Altai so charming, so attractive.

Thank you for your attention!

The article uses materials from the site Gelio Vostok

Gelio Vostok is a publishing house that deals with high-altitude photography of cities, and also specializes in publishing corporate photo albums and gift books about regions, large companies and industrial enterprises.

Over the years of work, the geography of projects has included objects in the territory from the USA to Kamchatka. Photos of the company today can be found almost everywhere: from souvenirs and printed publications before presentations in the Government Russian Federation. Gelio Vostok publishing projects in Russian cities became bestsellers, and among corporate clients appeared the largest companies and holdings of the country.

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Image Altai Territory in art interests the guests of the region and its indigenous people. Today, to help those who are looking for good poems about the Altai Territory, IA Amitel offers its own selection - the choice of the editors.

The image of the Altai Territory in art is of interest to the guests of the region and its indigenous people. Today, to help those who are looking for good poems about the Altai Territory, IA Amitel offers its own selection - the choice of the editors. Enjoy reading!

Mark Yudalevich

David Samoilov

Photo: www.ohot-prostory.ru

Barnaul night is high, cold,
And see far on the Ob.
And the wave breaks the star into pieces
About the stern of a wooden boat.

We are talking, looking at the darkness,
Where the chatty waves rush.
A reddish lantern burns at the stern,
Where heavy nets lie.

Steamboats sail under the whistle of the whistle,
Through the lights of the cabins.
Barnaul night is cold, high,
And on deck they sing a song.

This life flies by, glowing and screaming,
Blades splashing along the Ob.
And the fisherman leans on the oar from his shoulder,
And at dawn the sparrows roar.

We go to the islands where willows turn black,
To sleep, leaning against the fire.
There, in the wind, a birch sweeps like a broom,
Sweeping the constellations by morning.

And the dawn is pink, and then - silver,
And then light on the river.
Steamboats leave for Novosibirsk
And they hum, and hum in the distance.

Alexey Mashevsky

Photo: levkonoe.dreamwidth.org

Buckwheat fields, and further, in Barnaul -
Not a cloud, but rain from azure skies...
Here are all my affairs, all thoughts drowned
In slipping minutes, their lost weight.
When you're far, so far from home
For thousands of kilometers, scrolled, in a hurry,
Life seems to be barely familiar to you again
Like a woman in a second floor window.
And Cinderella-soul rested on the road,
And you are waiting for new secret words, and new faces,
Let not other worlds, but only Barnaul,
Unexpectedly and easily pushed boundaries.

Boris Kaurov

But we are going to the cherished shore
along the road of his pillar.
We are not only neighbors - America
challenge labor dispute.

We have a precise assignment.
Heroic labor calls into the distance.
There will be time - and milk rivers
more abundant obi will flow.

Come, and any profession
choose to your liking.
Let's work together and sing
glorify our hospitable Altai!

Ivan Frolov

Throwing off the dark blue dress,
In the languid heat of the glow of grief,
Yarovoe rushed into the lake
Bright evening dawn.

Only to her, cutting through the glass of water,
Flutter in the azure near the bottom:
Only iron will sink here,
And the living soul is not one.

In a white foamy salt frame -
Bitter exhalation of foamy water,
Yarovoe lake by right
They call it Kulunda's salt.

I waited in vain for a wave in a hurricane
Between salt sparkling blocks:
Spring storm does not care
Only slightly strokes the swell.

Let the thunderstorms pass by Kulunda,
And behind them - cold, snow and ice ...
Do not forge frost Yarovoe,
And any heat will not take!

My lake, isn't that why
We breathe so easily in the steppe,
That a pinch of this strong salt
Is it in our blood, Siberians?

Nikolai Rubtsov

I also say to a cute girl: -
Don't look at me so sadly!
Gloom, blizzard - it was all
And it's over - smile as soon as possible!

Smile! - I repeat dear, -
So that the flood does not wash us away,
So that it is not in vain with inescapable strength
The sun was beating with a fountain of rays!

As past towers, idols, tombs
Katun rushed in a wide avalanche,
And someone ancient cuneiform birds
Recorded the tune of her epic ...

Katun, Katun - a ferocious river!
She sings mysterious myths
About how the warlike Scythians walked,
- They trampled these shores!

And Genghis Khan's gloomy shadow
Over the whole world the sun eclipsed,
And black smoke flew over the passes,
To the parking lots of bright Russian villages...

Everything was swallowed up by a hundred-year-old dark pharynx!
And everything in the space is fabulously fiery
Katun runs with a sob and a whistle -
She can't calm her anger!

Sunny June will go out in the mountains,
Sad villages will fall asleep in the darkness,
The flowers are silent, the graves are silent,
And only you can hear how the Katun is making noise...

Irina Serebrov

Rushing rivers and the song of a waterfall,
The life-giving air of the forests,
Midday heat and night coolness,
Flowers like from rainbow dreams...

Altai! There will be many songs
About your wondrous beauty!
You are so many and so wonderful
Like a fairy tale about a bright dream!

Nadezhda Balakireva

The night over the Ob is black,
Like a blackcurrant, hazy.
The shore collapsed yesterday
Throwing branched birches into the river.
This leafy fleet

Waving branches, asking for help,
A night boat
Cautiously swims past the drowning.

A flash will sparkle
August midnight lightning,
And the Ob will pierce to the bottom
Hot thin knitting needles.

Infinitely black
This rainy August midnight,
And the firelight dimmed
Deeply tinted with darkness.

And bushes and flowers -
All have lost their former appearance.
I'm just part of the darkness
Only a drop in the night black cloud.

Georgy Vyatkin

Photo: www.smehnakarte.ru

In front of him is a boundless flat steppe,
And behind it is only a mountain range.
Only the mountains are alone - both near and far -
Like the frozen sighs of the earth.

He furrowed his brow, vigilantly looks around:
"Who are you, wanderer? Our enemy or friend?
If a friend - your path will be both bright and quiet
In your boundless wanderings.

If the enemy is from thunderstorms, from the breath of storms
The sky will turn black over you."
Dick and wonderful Altai. Fair and harsh
Bobyrgan, lord of the winds.

Bobyrgan is a mountain standing alone on the threshold of Altai from the side of the Biysk valley.

2. Katun
Queen of the rivers in an unfading crown,
Born I don't know when
In the snows of the peaks, in their immaculate bosom,
Svetla Katun, her water is fast.

Between wild rocks in indestructible armor,
Under the noise of the forests, the unceasing year,
Her countless horses fly
And they never know rest.

Foamed, with a restless mane,
It’s hard, it’s affectionately playful,
Having escaped to the steppes, they make noise off the coast.

And up there, new ones will be born,
Rising and jumping and running
In splashes of diamonds and foam of pearls.

3. Proteins
What burns at dawn, like a bloody ruby,
Over expanses of mountains and valleys?
Khan-Altai, aren't your squirrels?

That shines in the hot afternoon hour,
Like a huge, colorless diamond?
Khan-Altai, aren't your squirrels?

What glitters under the moon, between stone piles,
How transparent is an emerald always?
Khan-Altai, aren't your squirrels?

What is immortal and in the bosom of future ages,
Like a wreath of wreaths?
Khan-Altai, aren't your squirrels?

Squirrels - the local name for snow mountain peaks.

Vladimir Korzhov

Valentin Orlov

Altai!
The snow is high here
Altai!
Frosts are severe.
Altai!
Here the steppes are wide,
Altai!
The meadows here are free
The most beautiful region
Our Altai!

Altai!
Second Switzerland,
Altai!
You are better than Italy.
Altai!
Here the taiga smiles
Altai!
Cedars fall in love with pines!
I love you, my land -
You are simply handsome, Altai!

Altai!
The blue of the sky is boundless,
Altai!
You are still rich
Altai!
lakes deep,
Altai!
Here the mountains are high
There is no better than you, our land,
We love you Altai!!!

Altai, Altai, here everything is dear to me:
The foliage of your birches, the murmur of streams,
Taiga and steppe... And disturb the soul
Vociferous nightingale chords.

The wind plays with golden wheat,
Haystacks stand in the silence of the fields ...
How happy I am that it fell to be born
And live on this dear land to me!

Snow sparkles on the roofs and trees,
Blizzards are circling, blizzards in succession ...
Native Altai, even though you are ancient in years,
And for me you are so young!

The source of my soul, my land ...

Klimov Vasily

Decorated with the surface of lakes;

On the slopes of the blue mountains;

The life-giving air of the forests,

Flowers like from rainbow dreams ...

About your wondrous beauty!

Like a fairy tale about a bright dream!

Serebrov Irina

Altai... You are the basis of all foundations!
As soon as I hear this word
This will give you warmth...
Altai... In you, in that village -
The source of both dreams and children's tears,
The beginning of my destiny!
The edge of hills, rivers and birches,
And why the pier.

I'm going my life that way,
Which is given from God.
I have no land relatives ...
Altai, give me some more strength
And heal your soul!

Klimov Vasily

Altai! Your mountains only know
The stream of eternal wisdom.
From them, as from the ancient Veda,
The Katun River takes its source.

Altai! How little people remember
What else was whispered in the old days,
That all the gifts of the underground Chud
Decorate your Altar again.

Altai! Your spirit no longer slumbers
He guards the secret of the world,
He silently listens to the call of Heaven,
Keeping your spiritual magnet.

Altai! Truly wonderful
Your gift to searching hearts
And all the words from the best songs
Weave your coming crown.

Demenko Sergey

Altai, Altai, you are in the wild colors of May
Rejoice in pristine beauty!
The Ob flows here, playing with its wave,
The dawn is clear over you.

June thunderstorms here are pure breath,
July weaves a large carpet of herbs,
How dear to the soul are memories:
And the forest, and the meadow, and the shadow of your oak forests,

And rainbows of rain, and gold fields,
Cuckoo voice, nightingale song ...
There is no place on earth for you relatives.
Altai is my destiny and my pain!

And that's enough for me for the rest of my life...

Klimov Vasily

Altai is my Motherland,
rain overflowing,
Kalina, currant,
Birch rustle.
raindrops are slanting,
Wind and frost...
And this Russia
Sweet to me to tears!

Klimov Vasily

Altai is a starry sky over the steppe,
Decorated with the surface of lakes;
Altai - clouds leaving a chain
On the slopes of the blue mountains;

Rushing rivers and the song of a waterfall,
The life-giving air of the forests,
Midday heat and night coolness,
Flowers like from rainbow dreams ...

Altai! There will be many songs
About your wondrous beauty!
You are so many and so wonderful
Like a fairy tale about a bright dream!

Serebrov Irina

My Altai - great cedars, crazy winds,
My Altai - there were only you and me on the Castles,
My Altai - you will not be bored here alone,
My Altai - you will see the sun, and next to the moon!

Chorus:
Sparks flow from under the hooves,

My Altai - gems in the stream...
My Altai - the snow will never melt here.
My Altai is solid fogs of August day.
My Altai - heavenly paths you and me!

Chorus:
Sparks flow from under the hooves,
A day passes, and our trace is already forgotten.
Herbal ringing, and in the night - silence,
And the song is always sung here ...

I always! I will remember you My Altai!
Forever! On the walls are your photos My Altai!
I believe! We will meet again My Altai!
I'll ride on a brown Rocket to My Altai!

Lygin O.

Oh, you, father Altai,
We are all your children.
We don't need another edge
No way.

Our women are like peahens
Proud, majestic
And the merits of different darkness ...
They drive men crazy.

Oh, you, mother Siberia,
Good land:
Whatever you put in it
Generously born!

Men in Altai
In vain they do not scratch their tongues:
Kohl to work, so to sweat,
And love, so from the heart!

Our Altai is the beauty of Siberia,
There is no better place in the world
And the people are so beautiful
And hardworking!

Ehma, mess,
Give, Lord, to us all the mind,
To be native Altai
We are like heaven!

Klimov Vasily

The beauty of dear Altai,
I will show you with love
without disturbing his peace,
Without destroying this temple.

Khudyashov Nikolai

I love you Altai
Dear homeland!
You raised me, my land,
Gave me strength to live.

Water my soul
Rains and downpours
Since childhood, the heart burned
The smell of wormwood.

country lanes
And birch pegs
Mighty forest, mountains, rivers -
Everything has merged in you forever!

Where else can you find this
Diversity,
We are Siberia, We are not Europe,
And we live in Asia!

Klimov Vasily

Altai - Pearl of Siberia!
I live here and I want to live here.
Mighty peaks of gray squirrels
I cannot compare them with the mountains of the world.

Taiga with cedar forests,
And the rivers are transparent gentle expanse.
In the fields of bread they play with ears:
All this is you - a handsome hero!

We say - "Altai", but we see Shukshin,
Pankratov - Cherny, Zolotukhin, Evdokimov,
Culture Fund Russian and Arts,
The world knows them, not only the whole country,

I wish you prosperity, Altai,
Create, grow stronger, fight and grow rich!
We know that people are the main wealth,
Nowhere you will meet better and kinder!

Snezhko Anatoly

Altai region!
Forests, lakes, rivers,
deposits,
Steppes, virgin land.

Altai region!
Centuries go and milestones
Under the sun of the south
Blizzard country.

Altai region!
There is no limit to space
fields of wheat,
Pastures, gardens.

Altai region!
There is no happier lot:
merge with you
And stay there.

Altai region!
Pearl of Russia
In a crown-frame
golden rays.

Altai region!
What could be more beautiful
your lakes,
Blue eyes.

Gorokhova Lyubov

My beloved Altai!
I'm flying to you again.
You are fabulously beautiful
In any season!
All the joy of meeting you
I keep in my heart.
You are a gift from distant stars
You are the magic of nature.

rushing stream
Ringing, noisy rivers
Reveals to the World
Celebration of nature.
In the sacred mountains
Starting your run
Bringing the Good News
Life waters.

There is a Holy Temple
universal purity.
He resurrects the wings
For the flight of the spirit.
In one stream
The worlds united there.
And there, in the Radiant Majesty,
Belukha is worth it!

How did it happen that our land
People began to call Altai?
The translation is quite simple:
It means golden.
Here gold is often
found by our ancestors.
The beauty around is
Heavenly, golden.
Golden mountains, golden cliff,
Golden lake, golden oats:
And wheat in our region
That's right, gold.
Sea buckthorn and frying -
Golden lights. And, of course, let's not forget -
People lived here
Glorified the native land
Golden head.
Do you know them? Write down:
Evdokimov and Shukshin,
Simonenkov and Titov,
Pyryev, Gushchin and Panov.
Our pride, our honor.
Too bad you can't count them all!
They were raised by our good land,
Golden, native Altai!

Ashmarina T.

I don't know the other end
Where space is clean and wide.
Here are the peaks of the blue Altai
Cut ribbons of new roads.
Here the lakes of centuries-old coolness
Refreshes to the very soul.
What else do you need, man?
Come, enjoy, breathe!!!

Is on the map of Russia
Majestic Altai.
Many-sided, many-sided
This fabulous place.
Snowy peaks - as if to heaven,
Mountain peaks and mighty forest.
The spirit soars winged high in the mountains,
Reflected in the waters, as if in mirrors.
Waterfalls, rivers sing their song,
And the flowers and herbs behind them are calling:
The beauty of Altai cannot be recounted -
You have to see it, feel it with your heart.

There is no end to the expanses of Altai,
Free forests and fields ...
In the snowy blue stands in the middle of Russia
My home village.

Here everything is dear to me and everything is dear:
Spring bird cherry color,
Birches and willows, and bunches of mountain ash,
And gentle gentle dawn.

Your people are beautiful, patient in business
He does not know grief and troubles ...
Under the gentle sky with flowers and bread
Live and work for hundreds of years!

Klimov Vasily

Altai stands before my eyes:
And the silhouettes of the blue mountains
And a valley with mighty forests,
And countless stars pattern.

And an attractive note
Sounds sacred - "Altai!"
And something indescribable
Attracts to you, treasured land.

You are both stern and hospitable,
Inscrutable and simple
obedient to the dictates of time
And infinitely young.

Your very air is full of mystery,
And the colors are bright and clean,
As if the light is extraordinary
Spilled from a mountain height.

Your open spaces and gorges
Unwittingly stir up memory
And the magnetism is inexplicable
Doesn't let go of you.

Serebrov Irina

Altai, Altai - the land of fathers and grandfathers!
The sun rejoices in a blue haze ...
Anxieties and hopes and victories,
My Altai, forever connected with you!

Katun and Biya play with waves,
The steppe will enchant with golden fields...
Land of dreams and tears, I always loved you,
And there is no dearer to me than you!

I don't need to look for another homeland,
No matter how beautiful the West and the East ...
My native land is my reward,
Altai, Altai - hope and joy,
And faith, and the source of my soul!

Klimov Vasily

You don't understand how much I love Altai!
You can't hug him, you can't snuggle up to him,
They can be admired endlessly,
And filled with strength, beauty.

He is to me like a mother who nursed a baby,
And like a father, giving a life lesson,
Like a grandfather who gave me a memory,
Like a grandmother who taught to love a blade of grass, a tubercle.

You do not understand why I love this expanse without edge,
All the life of Altai to admire the beauty,
When you see all the charm of the miracle land,
Perhaps you will understand that all the same with me!

Khudyashov Nikolai

Altai Territory, you are my homeland,
Beloved land, extraordinary…
I am mesmerized by your beauty
Or maybe it was awarded by chance?

Does the snow sparkle in the sun in winter,
Does the mischievous wind whistle in the field,
Does water boil in whirlpools in spring -
And it all excites my heart!

And I will keep it for the rest of my life,
Which was released to me by fate ...
The ice will melt, man is not eternal,
And you, my land, are still young!
And you don't want to get old...

Klimov Vasily

In the mountains of Altai
Under a complete clamor
Gathered, chatting
Summer youth.

Youth is
Was from Moscow
And the poetry of the poet
You read to them.

To them who even name
Hardly knew mine
To them who wove with others
All your life.

Night at the bivouac.
Dinner from the ear.
And bonfires in the dark
And poetry, poetry!

Cedars. Waterfalls.
Snow. Moon. Flowers.
In a word, everything you need
Celebration of dreams.

new generation,
And the words are old.
Why is the excitement
Called poetry?

Why did you read
You them until the morning
In the Ural distance
In the firelight?

The youth asked
Songs without end:
Only for Russians - strength
Russian singer!

I take pride in reading
your letter,
As in the Altai mountains
Revealed a face.

Igor Severyanin

Oh, this land is familiar to me
Under the name "ALTAI"
Born in the fields
Yes, nothing attracts.

One forest seemed that -
A pine tree has a hundred branches!
Aura, always "holy"
I don't care about vices.

And the weather is an inspiration
Without much prayer! —
Grace stands around
There is a green meadow on the mountain!

The spikelet has already ripened ...
Good for my soul!
O fields, native field,
Forget grief with you!

Surova Natalia

Only for you, Altai, I will sing my song!
On Belukha, as a boy, I will stand again,
On Lake Teletskoye along the swim,
I will call my crazy youth to me.
You are my native Altai, you have no price!
Do you remember, with Sasha Tarasov, we, boys,
We used to go here ... Memory keeps everything
Granite would not have survived the past years.
He is in Belarus, I am in Moscow today,
Fate parted us like bridges on the Neva.
Only everything, as once, beloved Altai,
We are with you in the soul, our most beautiful land.
The boys have matured, but their thoughts,
We turn to you ... You just call us!
Let's gather, as in childhood, in a noisy crowd.
After all, we are your children, our memory is with you.

Gavryushkin Alexander

Altai… What do I hear in this word?
It has a soft murmur of a stream,
And the blue of the sky at the head
Ridges of the Altai Mountains.
Where is the air, drunk with its purity
Breaks into the foothills, into space.
Here people are different, but more kindness
In the eyes of people you will see us.
Perhaps there are more beautiful places
Where the mountains are higher and the winter is warmer
But for me there is no closer and dearer
Altai mountains, forests, lakes, fields.

Legkodymov Sergey

Mountains, meadows, lakes
Altai rises before me.
Forests, steppes
This region is rich and beautiful.
Blaze on the sides of the currant,
Dewy morning, blaze!

And the Motherland is Altai!
My land for me is the Motherland!
And the Motherland is Altai!
Sometimes there is off-road
Crossroads on a small land.
But they will meet me well
Both in the city and in the countryside
Blaze on the sides of the currant,
Dewy morning, blaze!
My land for me is the Motherland!
And the Motherland is Altai!
My land for me is the Motherland!
And the Motherland is Altai!
I am full of yesterday's memory
And remember at every step
What is fed by the Altai arable land
And forever indebted to her
Blaze on the sides of the currant,
Dewy morning, blaze!
My land for me is the Motherland!
And the Motherland is Altai!
My land for me is the Motherland!
And the Motherland is Altai!

Bartosevich Boris

Born here and lived with you
My mountainous region, native Altai,
I learned to live in the mountains
And it's forever with me.

I drank water from springs
I saw the backs of the clouds.
Intoxicated from the air of heaven,
I have become attached to the mountains for a century.

I watched the rivers flow
The flight of an eagle in the sky.
Spent the night under the starry sky...
And this is all I love.

In my heart I live with you
And I sing you, loving.
I love you Altai!
I love you all my life!

Khudyashov Nikolai

From forgotten centuries, from time immemorial
This land of gold
edge unprecedented generosity mountains
What is Altai?
Now you ask the trapper,
And hear - gold,
Hear the same word.
These are foxes and otters, stoats and sables
It's soft gold
What the earth gives.

Gavryushkin Alexander

Among the plains of eastern Altai
The motorway flows like a single ribbon,
Loga, tracts crossing,
She shoots into the distance.

Bulanikha spread out
At the track of that one, on the stretch of paths ...
Beloved village, you are joy, you are my pain,
And also the harbor of all my ideas!

I am connected with you by an invisible thread,
And I am proud of this fate!
Good deeds to you, village, for many years,
May your people always be happy!

Klimov Vasily

Rudny Altai, you are a newspaper and a region,
The prowess of nature and the boldness of paper,
Wilds and the cross of reporter courage,
Bowels of grace and readers - paradise.

Reflection of fire - revolution light -
Matrix multiplied your "Voice of Altai".
Fate is still so holy -
Authority according to the chronicle of years.

Flowing greetings from distant worlds
Secrets, riddles, human accomplishments,
Outlines of fate, Yamsky legends,
Youth dashing virgin tents.

Aksenov Victor

You give us your beauty
My eternal Khan-Altai,
And silent heights
My wise Khan-Altai;
You are wonderful in your generosity
My beloved Altai,
You heard a lot of the best songs
Take mine, Altai!

Demenko Sergey

Scarlet dawns over the ridges,
Green meadows and fields
And birches, like small children,
For a long time, the outskirts are noisy.

With its inextinguishable beauty
You pierce my heart again...
My Altai - you are my Russia,
My faith, hope, love!

There were so many roads in life
But with Altai I connected mine ...
I say: "Thank you!" - God
That I was born in this region.

Klimov Vasily

Oh, golden ocean,
Epiphany Sunrise!
Glides like a sigh of Eol, melting
On the slopes of Altai

Victorious skier.
Snow, snow - like the White Sea ...
Sunrise faded. Along the glades
Sweeps a pre-morning from the highlands

Fluffy snow patterns
And the wind is light and cold.
Illuminate my decrees,
My desires and ways

You, the creator of the deer,
Like the cheerfulness of intoxicated laziness,
Giving ten for five!
Gudi, icy lack of water!

Blaze the crown. January!
Fasten, drill, your reins,
And You, Emblem of Fertility,
My paths are illuminating!

Igor Severyanin

When you swim in the mountains, you go, or you go,
The soul sings from virgin beauty,
And you lose your head and years
From the drunkenness of the air and the chill of the dew.

I love Altai from edge to edge,
All that our ancestors cherished,
Places where leopards live in the rocks,
Where argali roam in the skies.

Rapids of the rivers and mountains of the Altai steep,
And the blue of the lakes among the steppes, forests,
I have never seen a better place in the world
Native Altai, you are like a god to me!

I love cedar forests,
The lake surface is blue and clean,
Power mountain rivers and braids of waterfalls,
And peaks of snowy heights, and beauty.

Khudyashov Nikolai

Russia has a wonderful land
And he is called Altai.
There they raised virgin soil,
Fathers and our grandfathers.
Went to war with a gun
The Nazis were defeated.
There in the field they sow, plow, reap
Getting up early at dawn;
In the village, people graze cattle,
On horseback, galloping across the steppe.
Altai is my steppe land,
I love your spaces
Your fields, your forests
And mountains of gold.

Romanchuk Tereza

The mountain steppe was replaced by a forest,
Altai plays with colors.
Here are the cedars frozen in the eternal

Larch forests wear
The nature of the park - they
Very sparse and hoarding
Ages, not noticing the days.
And on the clearings bushes -
Raspberries, honeysuckle, etc.
Here the herbalist finds a lot,
To help you suffering

Gavryushkin Alexander

And how great it is
And how nice
That our Altai is spacious
People, nature noble!

All over Russia they know
Yes, and in other parts:
Gives birth to heroes
Altai land!

And for great people
Champion in Altai
Probably was and will be
Kosikhinsky district.

I don't know any other information
But seriously I think
Paradise is not in the sky at all
And here, in the land of birches!

Klimov Vasily

The air of Altai is saturated with bliss,
They always pull you to breathe,
If at least once you came to Altai,
You will come back every year.

In the rivers of Altai, there is an attraction,
Kohl, at least once, you drank their water,
Don't be surprised if one day
You bought a ticket to Altai again.

The stars of Altai are more beautiful and brighter,
If you've spent the night in the mountains at least once,
And after this beautiful night
It pulls you back to that pass.

Those who are connected with Altai in life,
I am among them, I have not met - you believe,
So that someone on their earned vacation,
I took it and rushed to rest in Courchevel.

The slopes of the Katun Belda are waiting,
Yalaman water blue,
Sumultinskiye pure stretches,
tulle starry skies lace.

Khudyashov Nikolai

My dear land, with Mount Belukha
You gave me the happiness of being a poet,
And often in the morning with subtle hearing,
I catch the rustle of dawn.

When the birds sing, the sun rises,
The Aley River murmurs in the fog.
Rays from the sun beat in the window,
And I lie, as if in a dope.

And half asleep remembering
The beauty of the Altai Mountains,
My spirit freezes with happiness
Flies to the tops of the mountains.

Over emerald fields
Flies, feather grass steppes,
And in snow-white purity,
Mountain top, gives me.

Beautiful Altai, indescribable
And even if you remember in vain,
The soul will pour out like a balm,
And the heart will tremble.

Medvedev Sergey

The Altai Plain lies among mountains and rivers.
Altai is wealth. He is a khan from century to century ..
But the main wealth is the beautiful Katun.
The daughter is loved, only the moneybag did not choose her husband.

Biy lived with him, was just a shepherd.
Katun fell in love with him, the legend is all about ...
Everything was very secretive: the father did not know
And I was looking for rich suitors for my daughter.

Love, alas, is not a joke! His own daughter
Once she ran away, their traces were hidden by the night.
The father woke up in the morning, but the daughter was not around.
In vain they all searched, as if the trail had disappeared.

Who will catch the fugitives, said the great khan,
He will become my son-in-law, and this is not a hoax!
In pursuit of his army. How to catch up with the fugitives?
But every warrior wants to become native to the khan.

Suddenly sensing the pursuit, the Katun became a river,
Since then, all people see such a beauty.
And Biy runs towards, with his beloved for centuries,
He wants to connect, he is not a shepherd - a river.

Joined together like one flesh
The river appeared there, they called it the Ob.
The chase turned to mist over that river.
Altai, father did not think about such a fate.

From grief, like a stone, Altai became mighty.
The people named Belukha Mountain in honor of that love.
Look into the blueness of Altai, you will see for yourself.
It stands, attracting the eye, a mountain under the snow there.

Gavryushkin Alexander

The feeling of Altai is not lost,
Mother Nature and the pull of kinship.
The holy vitality has not gone away,
Did not leave the Fire of the Divine.
Cannes-Altai incomparable trihedral
Gave me to comprehend my basics,
And taiga unhealed wounds,
And the spirituality of the native land.
Like shoots from a native root,
We are through storms, fires and decay
We rise again and again
Shaking the dust of stories off my knees.

Kushnarenko-Surtaeva V.

How many beautiful kind words have been said
And I don't want to repeat myself
But every time to the depths of the foundations
I never tire of admiring Altai

Yes, there is a lot in the world in my understanding
Places where nature can do something more beautiful
But this is Altai, we live here
And everything around is native - it means ours

Native air, rivers and fields
The lakes are blue - like the eyes of the earth
And I won't stop admiring
On the lace of ridges turning blue in the distance

The view is drowning in the blue of the transparent sky
Green round dance around the forests
How much is lost, the one who was not here
How many who have been here will find

And, in general, it doesn’t matter where you were born
But Altai will beckon again and again
After all, having been here it is impossible not to fall in love.
In this magical clean mountainous region.

Legkodymov Sergey

Altai Territory is the soul of Russia!
People are talking in vain.
Here are the domes of churches, saints,
In the sun, they burn with gold.
And floats away on the patronal feast,
Crystal ringing bells
Above blessed land
Flying up to the clouds.
Love you! My region is Altai,
I'm proud of you, I live for you!
And all from end to end,
You are dear to my heart.
With their grain fields
You are glorious from time immemorial.
And the feat of arms of heroes,
Russia's devoted sons.
I love your meadows expanse
And your boundless space.
Your forests, fields and rivers,
And the sadness of thoughtful lakes.
I love birch groves
When the nightingales sing in them.
All night long I'm ready to listen
Their love serenades.
Inexplicable, bright sadness,
Spring night, among the birches.
Suddenly squeeze the heart and let go
In the chest to pain and to tears.
unique sunrises,
I like to meet by the river.
And every day for this happiness
I thank you, my land!
You are a glorious son of a great country,
I am proud of you, I live for you.
With a generous and open soul,
You are dear to my heart.
And let them shine on you
Churches, golden domes.
Altai Territory is the soul of Russia!
No wonder people say.

Knyazhentsev Yuri

Turquoise skies, emerald waters
Altai became pregnant with snow.
Waterfalls cascades, lunar-stellar codes:
Belovodye shouts: "Come!"
Flaming fire rushes out
The numb surface of truth
Transfer unearthly-earthly freedom
And leave a mark on their faces.
Seal of Peace, Love, Compassion
To the hopeless decay of people
Reducing the moments of goodbye
Because of our grievances and passions.
Waiting for the silence inside
Filled with the silence of the mountains,
We plunged into the rhythms of the way,
Filling space with beauty.
Knowing ourselves, knowing each other
Through songs, silence, breath,
Escaped with difficulty from the familiar circle
To the unusual basics of states.
The diary was not written, the temptations did not end,
The saddle shone inaccessible,
And Belukha shone with a trouble-free beam -
Our hearts could not pass through it.
Blinded by a miracle behind the glasses escaped -
So bright is the daughter of infinity -
Touched us with a light glow,
But even this burning is unbearable.
Belovodye, I'm sorry, I don't say goodbye to you -
Let the white seed germinate.
Saturated with science, I will build temples,
And believe that we are on the way.

Perhaps the forest was once here,
Now only groves here and there -
For scythes, for partridges.
Shelter for all living creatures.

Green, in a damp hollow
Ile on the shore near the river
There are birches and aspens
Among the loaves, like islands.

These groves are called pegs,
Around.
Why?
But words are clearer and easier
Nobody needs here.

I want everything in the steppes of Altai,
Special for a long time -
Human hearts, speech is alive,
And the smells, and the color of the lakes,

And songs full of meaning -
Everything is the same for me
Needing no explanation
family from today.

Yashin Alexander

The legend of the emergence of the Altai Territory

Can you imagine how it was
Many, many years ago
God decided to create an abode,
Where everyone would be happy to live.
Everything was busy
Wherever you cast your eyes,
Everywhere people already lived,
Where is the desired end?
And went to look for the abode
Falcon, cedar and deer.
Every resident tried to find
But day after day changed.
Deep roots in the ground
The mighty cedar left,
The falcon strove to fly high,
Didn't find anything.
And the deer, handsome, for a long time
Jumped on the ground, searched,
But so far it's useless
Where is the edge of that ideal?
Suddenly one day they met
in a mountainous and beautiful country.
And she greeted them all
They were happy here.
Cedar settled on the slopes,
The falcon soars in the sky
And the deer in the green forest
Keeps all traditions.
And from the old days
There is a golden edge in the world
Because in translation
Gold is ALTAI.

Petrova Svetlana

Altai is Mountain country,
Ridge system is mainline,
Their fan, given in detail.
The earth is frozen by a superwave.
Oh, clearly - arc calculation
Strong will unknown to us.
Altai sings by nature,
The whole sum of herbs, tree branches.
Altai - and in it you will hear paradise,
You will also remember China in rhyme.
All the air is an ocean, and the reef
Similar to the spherical Altai.

A fan is scattered inside the arc
ridge hills. Altai lives,
Having its own South and North,
The edge goes to Mongolia.
Flat, yet mountainous.
Katun with tributaries - like a network.
Does the river exist? isn't it? Proud…
But water is not afraid of death.
When spring fills with flowers
The meadows sing with all their diversity.
And this color painting flame
Like a fairy tale - embodied here.

Feathers sway, dazzle,
And the desert oats rise rapidly.
Thin-legged to break away glad
It would be - but the fantasy is absurd.
The forbs of color are strong -
Forget-me-nots are mixed with geraniums.
The meadow enters space with a sharp edge,
It's the same with air.

The mountain steppe was replaced by a forest,
Altai plays with colors.
Here are the cedars frozen in the eternal
Moving up to the sky.
Larch forests wear
The nature of the park - they
Very sparse and hoarding
Ages, not noticing the days.
And on the clearings bushes -
Raspberries, honeysuckle, etc.
Here the herbalist finds a lot,
To help you suffering...

The asymmetry of the slopes is beautiful -
The dryness of the south - they are treeless,
Well, the northern ones are amazing
Universal density-depth.
Aconite, cow parsnip, angelica -
Meadow plots in full
They took it furiously, partly wildly.
What will offer, silently, the slope?
On the heights there are stones,
Their lichens are akin to a map.
Can there be underground treasures?
It doesn't matter if they really are.

— 6 —
Altai mole and wolverine,
Bear and otter and deer.
The whole roe deer is like a bunch of fear,
The flying squirrel is not known for laziness.

And the red wolf is very rare.
And in the rivers - grayling, taimen.
Who they are, I don’t know, really an ancestor,
And too lazy to consult in the dictionary.

The muzzle is very dangerous,
The bite is like a syringe injection.
Vaughn gopher froze like a column.

Here is a common - fauna - verb.

Altai iron products,
From copper, silver, stones - to China,
Iran and Turkestan leave briskly,
Regions flow over the edge.
Soldiers - since the recruitment got it.
Dissenters, peasants - all here
They fled, and Altai absorbed a lot
People - a common environment was created.
Dzungar khans against there are Cossacks,
History is essentially a catalogue.
However, these records are twofold.
Altai is wide with both sky and earth.

Baltin Alexander

There are very few places on earth that could adequately compete with this amazingly beautiful island of nature, towering in the very center of vast Asian spaces.
Alexander Sazonovich Surazakov

What did Altai give me? Paints from his rich palette...
Afanasy Koptelov

Altai - golden mountains. Altai is a country of beautiful waterfalls, stormy wayward rivers, giant mountains, clear blue lakes. A beautiful mountainous country lies almost in the center of Asia, the Altaians say that Altai is the navel of the earth! The owner of the earth is the sacred spirit - Altai-eezi.
Valentina Selegey "Altai. Lake Teletskoe"

The space is so soul-crushing...
Vasily Makarovich Shukshin about Altai

Never seen anything more beautiful in my life
Vitaly Bianchi

You mountains, Altai mountains! Who decorated you with flowers and herbs in your spring Honeymoon May!
Vyacheslav Shishkov "Along the Chuysky tract

Chuya, the sacred river, lashed far across Altai! Seething on a steep slope, all gray-haired, all shaggy, vehemently grinds stones, threatens a person with his anger. Stop, Chuuya, stop!..."
VyacheslaShishkov "Chuisky were"

Oh, how the Chuya, the sacred river, swept across Altai. Whites stand on the horizon of the mountains, all in eternal snow, the Chui Alps, the earth's tombstone. Chuya, the sacred river, will be born in them.
Vyacheslav Shishkov "Chuisky were"

I love Altai deeply, and every year my love grows, and I don’t know how I will compensate for the joy and happiness that he gives me every day, every minute. If I were a poet, I would sing praises to him, I would endlessly glorify his beauty and power.
Vyacheslav Shishkov

Altai - my homeland, the cradle of the world.
Georgy Dmitrievich Grebenshchikov

What space everywhere and what power! It's you, bewitched, gloomy, regal Altai!.. It's you who is shrouded in mists that, like thoughts, run from your mighty brow to unknown lands... It's you, hero, dozing for centuries, moving your wrinkled eyebrows, and thinking your cherished good thoughts ...
Grigory Ivanovich Choros-Gurkin. "Altai and Katun"

Mists, his transparent thoughts, run in all directions of the world. The lakes are his eyes looking into the universe. Waterfalls and rivers - his speech and songs about life, the beauty of the earth, mountains.
Grigory Ivanovich Choros-Gurkin

My eyes are constantly turned to the blue peaks of Altai.
Nikolai Mikhailovich Yadrintsev

Siberia is a country of great future, and Altai is a living embodiment of its beauty.
Nicholas Roerich

Sparks suddenly flicker in the sky over Altai - as if daytime races flicker, and the sun now and then extinguishes them with its light, the sun is woven into forests, streams, rivers and lakes. The sky becomes, as it were, a part of the earth, and the sun is also a part of it, and all together they are Altai ....
Sergey Zalygin "Trails of Altai"

Altai, rise!
Resurrect, Altai!
Awaken your powers
Your spirit, Altai!
The earth is waiting for you
And the sky is calling
The star will lead
Forward -
to Sunrise.

If there is a paradise in the world, this is our Altai Territory!!!

Literary composition "My Motherland - Altai"

Prepared by:

Ibragimova Elena Gennadievna,

Spitskaya Olga Timofeevna,

teachers of reading and speech development

Target:

Spiritual enrichment of the child's personality through acquaintance with new literary works

Tasks:

To contribute to the expansion of the horizons of students, the development of the ability to draw information on their own through the content of poems and presentations.

To educate love and respect for the nature of their land, as well as a value attitude towards people on the example of famous Altai countrymen.

Composition progress

The literary performance has a multimedia accompaniment with pictures of nature and musical fragments.

slide 1-2

Leading:

Altai… Altai Territory. It lies on vast expanses equal to Australia, Greece, Holland put together. There are many wonders of nature on earth, amazing creations of human genius, but Altai is beautiful in its own way, it is unique.

slide 3-4

Mark Yudalevich "Altai"

What is Altai?

You ask a geologist about it.

The geologist will tell you.

The geologist will tell you about gold.

From forgotten centuries

since time immemorial, this is the land of gold,

the land of the unknown generosity of the mountains.

What is Altai?

You ask the trapper now

And hear - gold, hear the same word -

these are foxes and otters.

stoats and sables.

it is soft gold, what the taiga land gives.

What is Altai?

You ask the shepherd about that.

This gold, he will say, is the edge of the golden fleece.

Ask a farmer -

combine and tractor driver.

It's gold, they say,

Yes, gold in a clean field.

Look around -

without borders, without borders -

the golden ocean of Kulunda wheat.

Leading:

slide 5

How delightful are the lands of Altai! You can't take a look at his steppes. Its mountains hide their domes in the skies, and the rivers and lakes are either intoxicatingly quiet and gentle, or swift as lightning. Do you know why our region is called Altai?

Slide 6-7

T. Ashmarin "Golden Altai"

How did it happen that our land

People began to call Altai?

The translation is quite simple:

It means golden.

Here gold is often

found by our ancestors.

The beauty around is

Not earthly, golden:

Mountains, lake, cliff,

Golden field, plyos.

And wheat in our region, -

That's right - gold.

Sea buckthorn and frying,

Golden lights.

And, of course, let's not forget -

People lived here

Glorified the native land

Golden head.

At least write pictures from them:

Evdokimov and Shukshin,

Zolotukhin and Titov.

Our Altai Territory is like that!

You can't be proud of them.

And so, friends.

Our beloved, kind land

It's called Altai!

Leading:

Slide 8

Until 1991, the Altai Territory included the Gorno-Altai Autonomous region, which is currently an independent subject of the Russian Federation - the Republic of Altai. Mountain Altai is picturesque. high ridges alternate with alpine meadows. The forests are rich in berries and mushrooms. There are roe deer, deer, moose, mountain sheep. The feathered world is very rich. Rivers and lakes of Altai - expanse for fish. For several kilometers, among the mountains, the beautiful Katun flows.

Mark Yudalevich "We have a lot of beauties in the mountains"

Slide 9

We have a lot of beauty in the mountains,

But at once you leave everything in vain,

When you see the unprecedented

Flight of the beauty Katun.

Shimmering and sparkling

She flies from steep heights,

Giving all the charm to people

Its wild beauty.

The charm grows

When, like sparkles of amber,

Sprays fly over her,

Burning in the sunshine.

Who visited the Altai mountains,

It will be difficult to part with Katun,

That shines with its beauty

With sun and full moon.

Leading:

In the village of Srostki, Biysk region, in 1929 he was born famous writer, actor, film director Vasily Makarovich Shukshin. He lived a short and yet long life. A lot of all kinds of good and bad, successes and failures, fame and misunderstanding, grief and happiness fell to his lot. No one told better than him about the life of a Siberian, about his character, about the Altai village.

Slide 10 (with musical accompaniment)

Igor Pantyukhov "Snowstorms over the earth have echoed"

In bloom, viburnum sinks, like in snow ...

I imagine Shukshin without Russia,

How can I not Russia without him.

And outside the village the accordion sighed somewhere

The autumn wind chilled my cheeks.

IN last time he was leaving Picket,

Not knowing that he left for immortality ...

Birch trees froze in a quiet bow,

The bees fell asleep, having flown to their heart's content.

He will not come, he will not return to Splices.

Where his mother was waiting for him - did not wait,

And where Katun yearned for him,

Oh, how she called him here.

Life rushed, as it rushed across the sky

Living unquenchable star.

And strange people come again

To sit next to him, smoke,

About what was and what will be

Slowly talk with a fellow countryman.

slide 11 (with musical accompaniment)

Leading:

Every time at sunset, when viburnum begins to redden in the forests, thousands of admirers come to the writer's homeland, to the village of Srostki. Shukshin's readings are held here on Mount Piket.

Leading:

Many talented people and scientists have grown up in Altai. Among them is Ivan Ivanovich Polzunov, an inventor, creator of the first steam engine in Russia.

Slides 12-14

Mark Yudalevich "There were a lot in Altai ..."

There were many in Altai

Such people whose names

Ages of oblivion without knowing

There is time for everything.

It is impossible to list all of them in verses,

His land glorified sons

Here lived a great heating engineer

Ivan Ivanov Polzunov,

Frolov is a famous mechanic,

That I leafed through many books,

Dozens made discoveries

And even became a general.

Recall, for example,

Even for the prescription of years,

Poroshina, Chulkov, Baer,

Leaving a deep mark...

Inexorably time rushes by

And the turn of new things has come,

But what is done is proud

And keeps people in mind.

Leading:

There are 11 cities in the Altai Territory. The youngest of them is a city located on the banks of the Chumysh River, our city is Zarinsk. Every year it changes. We are pleased with its beautiful, clean streets. There are many schools and kindergartens in the city. The pride of our city is the coking plant.

slide 15

Yuri Dudnikov "There are birch trees in gilding"

There are birch trees in gilding,

Rowan fire burns.

And I'm all about life in care.

I look, Altai, at your space.

To a new city in the swamps.

And on our beautiful people,

Yes, golden sunsets

And early in the morning - into the sky.

Russia is changing

The worries are not reduced.

Zarinsk is noticeably prettier

And the plant grows with it.

Leading:

slide 16

Many peoples have the same legend: the inhabitants of the mountains and steppes, forests and deserts, located in the south and north, in the east and west, argued, whose land is more beautiful? Where is it more joyful and convenient for a person to live? They argued and argued and could not come to a single conclusion. They decided to submit their dispute for reflection to the wise men. The sages spent many days and nights before a ray of truth illuminated them: all lands are good, but what more people worked hard to transform their land. The more precious and beloved it is for them.

Boris Ukachin "My Altai"

My Altai, beautiful as a legend!

How many secrets are waiting here even now

Prospector's look, touch

Hands of workers, hard as a diamond!

For me, fate is more beautiful and wonderful

Do not invent - no matter how much you dream.

To be like him, Live, transparent song

Your mountains, your forests, Altai!

Slide 17

The lyrics included:

Mark Yudalevich: “Altai”, “There were a lot of beauties in Altai ...”, “We have a lot of beauties in the mountains”

Tatyana Ashmarina: "Golden Altai"

Igor Pantyukhov: "Snowstorms over the earth echoed"

Boris Ukachin: "My Altai"