{"id":403,"date":"2026-01-27T03:10:49","date_gmt":"2026-01-27T01:10:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aleksawn.bget.ru\/drugie\/stihi-pro-ukrainskij-yazyk.html"},"modified":"2026-10-27T16:48:53","modified_gmt":"2026-10-27T13:48:53","slug":"poems-about-the-ukrainian-language","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/stihi-pro-ukrainskij-yazyk\/","title":{"rendered":"Poems about the Ukrainian language: for schoolchildren, text analysis and theme"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The Ukrainian language is one of the oldest Slavic languages, rich in melody, imagery, and deep historical memory. It has survived centuries of prohibitions and oblivion, yet retained its vibrant soul in folk songs, tales, and the words of millions of people. Ukrainian words possess a special warmth and melodiousness that distinguishes them from other languages. Poets from different eras have invoked the Ukrainian language as a symbol of identity, resilience, and an unquenchable love for their native land. These poems are a tribute to a language that lives, resonates, and unites hearts.<\/p>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"1\">\n<h2>Native word<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe Ukrainian word sounds like the wind in the fields in spring, like a song that comes to me again and again in the silence. It will not die, it will not forget neither the sorrow nor the joy of days, as long as it is with us, we will be, as long as it is, we are stronger.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"2\">\n<h2>Language of the steppes<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nI hear it at dawn\u2014in the murmur of quick speeches, free winds hide within it and the memory of distant nights. It is sculpted by sun and grain, by the steppes and the blue of the Dnieper, it is raised high to the sky by the hands of the native yard. Ukrainian\u2014soft and ringing, like rain among summer fields, it flows with a subtle melody through the thickness of past nights.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"3\">\n<h2>Melodious<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nUkrainian is a melodious language, Every word in it is like a bird, A person has become so accustomed to it, That the heart knows how to pray. It is gentle, like a mother&#039;s melody, It is strong, like the will of a Cossack, Unbroken, unmute - It has entered the open field.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"4\">\n<h2>The word lives<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nBanned, it came alive. Forgotten, it returned. So much love and warmth was imbued in it, That the memory could not be erased. It grew through years of silence, Like grass through city asphalt. The Ukrainian language is eternal knowledge Of home, of fields, of simple life. And once again it sounds in the mouths of descendants, Solemn, proud, open, bright\u2014 Not a distant echo, not a quiet resound, But a voice that time could not stop.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"5\">\n<h2>Language<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\n\u00ab&quot;Mova&quot;\u2014the word sounds so simple, But it contains a whole world, a whole home, a whole world. It returns us to the roots again, To where the beginning began, to where the answer lies. The Ukrainian language is roots and crown, It is the scent of childhood and grandmother&#039;s garden, It holds us like a native icon holds us, Like the earth holds us\u2014not letting us go back.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"6\">\n<h2>Voice of the people<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nIn it you can hear the cry of an ancient lullaby, And laughter at a party on a July night, And the grief of a long and dear separation, And the joy when a daughter returns. Ukrainian is a living history, Written not with ink but with blood, It was lived in suffering, in pain, in calluses, And endured by faith, hope, and love. It is alive because it has not been forgotten By children or grandchildren in a distant land - It was cherished, sung about, loved, And now they sing its song of mine.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"7\">\n<h2>Ancient word<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe Ukrainian word is ancient, proud, It has sprouted from the depths of centuries, It has not been erased from the hearts of the living by frost or bad weather. It is like the Carpathians - it stands and does not bow, Like the Dnieper - it spreads wide, It prays in every home in its own way And stretches to the sky, like a blue expanse.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"8\">\n<h2>Forbidden language<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nIt was banned by strict decrees, driven from courtyards and schools, But those who preserved and carried Ukrainian walked with it along the paths and roads. They spoke in whispers, secretly, Passing words along at night\u2014 And now it sounds, not by chance, Through streets, squares, cities. Language cannot be killed if it is in a lullaby, If it is in the heart, it cannot be torn out. Ukrainian\u2014eternal, strong, imperishable, It is greater than any prohibition.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"9\">\n<h2>Gentle language<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThere&#039;s so much tenderness and affection in it, Like the warmth in the word &quot;sun,&quot; It unfolds like a fairy tale, Where everything is true and bright. &quot;Love,&quot; &quot;dawn,&quot; &quot;mother&quot; - Words that melt on the lips, Ukrainian - quietly, subtly - Lives in words, lives in hearts.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"10\">\n<h2>Shevchenko&#039;s language<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nShevchenko wrote in this language\u2014of freedom, of grief, of Mother Ukraine. His words lived in every verse, as they continue to do today. Ukrainian is the voice of the Kobzar, it is &quot;Kobzar,&quot; it is &quot;Haidamaky,&quot; it is the morning that glows like dawn, from beneath the darkest gloom. Read his lines\u2014and in every syllable you will hear the breath of your native land. We all stand on the same road\u2014the one that Taras commanded us to preserve.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"11\">\n<h2>Sounds of the homeland<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nUkrainian sounds like the scent of cherry blossoms\u2014Unexpectedly, piercingly, briefly, and suddenly, It flashes in memory and never fades, When you&#039;re far from close separations. It smells of wormwood and summer hayfields, It smells of the river and hot borscht, It holds you by an invisible hair\u2014And you return home empty-handed.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"12\">\n<h2>Living water<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe Ukrainian language is living water, which nourishes the roots and sustains the soul. It has always been here, it will always be here, neither fire nor silence can destroy it. It murmurs in legends and thoughts, in folk legends and in children&#039;s poems. It lives in quiet villages and bustling cities, on the lips of the living and on the lips of the old. It is like a spring in a rocky ravine: it cannot be found, but it flows there, and the weary traveler, with each step, will eventually find it by its sound.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"13\">\n<h2>Lullaby language<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nMother sang a lullaby on it, Grandma wove bedtime stories, Ukrainian\u2014native, soulful\u2014went with us into the night. The first word a child hears, the first melody on a loved one&#039;s shoulder\u2014Ukrainian lives and is quiet, like a quiet, eternal candle.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"14\">\n<h2>The language of eternity<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nCenturies will pass\u2014it will resound, Wars will pass\u2014it will survive again, It can never be silenced, As long as a single word of it remains. Ukrainian\u2014it is the root and the crown, It is the seed in the earth and the fruit in the wind, It is a voice in space without a bottom, without a law, That can be heard in the heat and in the night game. It is eternal, as eternal as the Carpathian Mountains, As eternal as feather grass in the endless steppe, The Ukrainian language is our expanse, That we will not forget and will not let be buried.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div class=\"poem\" data-poem=\"15\">\n<h2>I hear you<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nI hear you, my tender Ukrainian, in the words of simple old ballads. You are quiet and loud, you are free and eternal. You are everything I remember and everything I am happy about. Sound, sound over the fields and cornfields, over the blue river and over the mountain range. You are connected to our hearts by invisible threads. You are the Motherland, which has become our labor.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Below, we&#039;ve compiled a selection of poems about the Ukrainian language in Ukrainian, suitable for school lessons, themed events, or personal reading. These works will help you gain a deeper appreciation of the language and find the perfect text for a speech, postcard, or social media post.<\/p>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Mova - carriage<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe word of every person has the deep essence of life, the ancestral voice, the memory of ancient days. The language is like a little cat, like a minute, and whispers to the wind in the golden fields. Vona is like a river that carries its own slab, changing its banks, and depriving it of its essence. She has joy, and a thoughtful tinkle, and everything that the heart deeply perceives.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u0421\u043b\u043e\u0432\u0430 \u0456 \u0441\u0432\u0456\u0442\u043b\u043e<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nNot just sounds - there is magic in words, The stench of the building creates a wondrous light. The skin has a sparkle in the eyes, and the sun of truth, and the month of hello. Mova is a song that paints dreams, and notes of music that sparkle the soul. She gives us the wondrous spring, and guides us in the endless future. Vona is like the light that scatters the darkness and gives hope to the skin. We also take care of my language like a shrine, so that its voice can always moon.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u0420\u0456\u0434\u043d\u0435 \u0437\u0432\u0430\u043d\u043d\u044f<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nEach person&#039;s word has a melody of the soul, sounding rarer, lower and clearer. There, like zir, the darkness is deaf, Ved to the truth, it carried light. The language is the treasure that our ancestors gave us and commanded us to take care of it. Vaughn, like a krill, was called up into the mountain, and was given some happiness and warmth. Vona is like a song that moons in the field, and the grass whispers, and the bird sings in the bush. She has all the beauty, all the lack of fortune, and an eternal spirit that does not extinguish the land. We also hear the language, absorb its essence, and feel the power in every word. May our daily word be on the way, and inspires us to a new flight and a new one.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Litera<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nA simple letter, like a sign on the earth, And in it - the whole sky, the sun and the day. Vaughn is the cob of the tongue, the coli, the key to reason, and the eternal fruit. Vaughn is like grain that grows in life, and gives us bread throughout the whole earth. Vaughn is like a flower that blooms in the summer, and brings joy to the eye and brings joy to the soul.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u041c\u043e\u0432\u0430 \u0456 \u043f\u0430\u043c&#039;\u044f\u0442<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe word has the memory of generations, and the echoes of long ago. It is like a treasure that is rotten in the heart, and does not allow us to forget the light. Language is the precious thread that connects us, to the past, today and tomorrow. Vona is like the wind that moves us, and gives comfort to the boundless. Vona is like a river that carries its hour, And the banks change, and the essence is deprived. We also take care of our language, like our belongings, so that its voice forever eats us up.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>A word is a weapon<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe word has the power to create, to destroy, and to seize the land. Vono is like a sword that you can overcome, and give peace and develop fear. The language is worthless, what is in people\u2019s hands, You can change the world for a better one, I believe. Vaughn is like the fire that burns in ideas, and gives hope and faith in your choice. Vaughn is like a shield that protects us, from the nonsense, from the darkness, and from the darkness all around. We also take care of our language, like our belongings, and vikorist, like a faithful friend. Vaughn is like the voice of truth that shines on the moon and does not let us go astray. We also hear the language, absorb its essence, and feel the power in every word, in every word.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>First word<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\n\"Mom\" is the first word, gentle and holy, In it there is love, hope and warmth. There you are, like the sun that gives light and scatters the darkness away. In this there is an ear of the tongue, a root, and a link with the ancestors, with the native land. We also cherish this word like a treasure, and pass it on to our children.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u041c\u043e\u0432\u0430 \u0456 \u043f\u0456\u0441\u043d\u044f<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe song has a language that comes to life, and gives us joy and warmth. Vaughn is like a bird that flies into the sky, and carries the melody around. Mova is the music that sounds in the heart, and inspires us to new accomplishments. Vaughn is like a flower that blossoms in life, and brings joy to the eye and carries joy to the soul. Vona is like the wind that whispers in the fields, and carries words throughout Ukraine. We also hear songs, absorb their essence, and feel the power in every word, in every action.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Word and share<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe word has a share that checks us, and the path we need to take. Vono is like a compass that indicates the hour, and helps us not to go astray. In this, there is a choice that we choose, and responsibility for our work. We also take care of the word, like our treasure, and protect it with wisdom and generosity.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Ukrainian abetka<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nFrom \"A\" to \"Z\" is our wondrous world, The skin of the letter is like a star in the sky. Vona is like the key to knowledge, to open up to everyone, and gives us wisdom in words. Abetsi has the power to create and inspire us to new accomplishments. Also, I\u2019m very aware of my language, I\u2019m rooted, I\u2019m also clearly proud of my journey.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Mova \u2013 ce divo<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe movie has a miracle that makes us sing, Its beauty lies in its melody and twang. Vaughn is like a flower that opens in an hour, and gives us joy and rejuvenation. Language is a treasure that needs to be taken care of and passed on from generation to generation. Vaughn is like a song that moons in life, and inspires us to new accomplishments. Vona is like the wind that whispers in the fields, and carries words throughout Ukraine. We also hear the language, absorb its essence, and feel the power in every word, in every word.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u0421\u043b\u043e\u0432\u0430 \u0456 \u043c\u0440\u0456\u044f<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nThe word has a dream that lives in us, and gives us hope for better things. There, like a wing that flies into the sky, and carries our thoughts into the vastness. In the world is the power that is created to create, and to inspire us to new accomplishments. We also take care of the word, like our treasure, and vikoristically for the sake of this world.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>Ridna mova - heart song<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nVona is like a river that flows in a valley, changing its course, but not losing its essence. The language is the treasure that is in the deep heart, and gives us happiness and joy on our journey. Vona is like the sun that warms us and gives us bright warmth. Vona is like the wind, which whispers at an hour, and spreads words throughout the whole world.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"poems\">\n<div class=\"poem\">\n<h2>\u041c\u043e\u0432\u0430 \u2013 \u0446\u0435 \u0436\u0438\u0442\u0442\u044f<\/h2>\n<pre class=\"poem-text\">\nWe have a life that lives in us, and gives us a wonderful feeling. Vona is like a dihanna, which in every hour, Reminds us of strength and love. Language is a treasure that needs to be taken care of and passed on from generation to generation. Vaughn is like a song that moons in life, and inspires us to new accomplishments.\n    <\/pre>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Ukrainian language is one of the oldest Slavic languages, rich in melody, imagery, and deep historical memory. It has survived centuries of prohibitions and<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[71],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-403","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-stihi"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/403","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=403"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/403\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":174842,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/403\/revisions\/174842"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=403"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=403"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bukvaved.top\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=403"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}