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Максимова Анастасия Владимировна
сайт учителя английского языка
Профессия: учитель английского языка
Профессиональные интересы: оптимальное использование современных технологий в образовательном процессе, развитие творческихспособностей учеников, совершенс
Увлечения: путешествия, чтение книг
Регион: Московская область
Населенный пункт: город Егорьевск
Место работы: город Егорьевск, МОУ СОШ №5
Навигация
Ссылка на мой мини-сайт:
https://nsportal.ru/maksimova-anastasiya-vladimirovnaSucess doesn't come to you ... you go to it.
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
A Dream
I had a dream--a strange, wild dream--
Said a dear voice at early light;
And even yet its shadows seem
To linger in my waking sight.
Earth, green with spring, and fresh with dew,
And bright with morn, before me stood;
And airs just wakened softly blew
On the young blossoms of the wood.
Birds sang within the sprouting shade,
Bees hummed amid the whispering grass,
And children prattled as they played
Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass
Fast climbed the sun: the flowers were flown,
There played no children in the glen;
For some were gone, and some were grown
To blooming dames and bearded men.
'Twas noon, 'twas summer: I beheld
Woods darkening in the flush of day,
And that bright rivulet spread and swelled,
A mighty stream, with creek and bay.
And here was love, and there was strife,
And mirthful shouts, and wrathful cries,
And strong men, struggling as for life,
With knotted limbs and angry eyes.
Now stooped the sun--the shades grew thin;
The rustling paths were piled with leaves;
And sunburnt groups were gathering in,
From the shorn field, its fruits and sheaves.
The river heaved with sullen sounds;
The chilly wind was sad with moans;
Black hearses passed, and burial-grounds
Grew thick with monumental stones.
Still waned the day; the wind that chased
The jagged clouds blew chillier yet;
The woods were stripped, the fields were waste,
The wintry sun was near its set.
And of the young, and strong, and fair,
A lonely remnant, gray and weak,
Lingered, and shivered to the air
Of that bleak shore and water bleak.
Ah! age is drear, and death is cold!
I turned to thee, for thou wert near,
And saw thee withered, bowed, and old,
And woke all faint with sudden fear.
'Twas thus I heard the dreamer say,
And bade her clear her clouded brow;
'For thou and I, since childhood's day,
Have walked in such a dream till now.
'Watch we in calmness, as they rise,
The changes of that rapid dream,
And note its lessons, till our eyes
Shall open in the morning beam.'
I HAD a guinea golden; |
I lost it in the sand, |
And though the sum was simple, |
And pounds were in the land, |
Still had it such a value |
Unto my frugal eye, |
That when I could not find it |
I sat me down to sigh. |
|
I had a crimson robin |
Who sang full many a day, |
But when the woods were painted |
He, too, did fly away. |
Time brought me other robins,— |
Their ballads were the same,— |
Still for my missing troubadour |
I kept the “house at hame.” |
|
I had a star in heaven; |
One Pleiad was its name, |
And when I was not heeding |
It wandered from the same. |
And though the skies are crowded, |
And all the night ashine, |
I do not care about it, |
Since none of them are mine. |
|
My story has a moral: |
I have a missing friend,— |
Pleiad its name, and robin, |
And guinea in the sand,— |
And when this mournful ditty, |
Accompanied with tear, |
Shall meet the eye of traitor |
In country far from here, |
Grant that repentance solemn |
May seize upon his mind, |
And he no consolation |
Beneath the sun may find. |
I HAD a guinea golden; |
I lost it in the sand, |
And though the sum was simple, |
And pounds were in the land, |
Still had it such a value |
Unto my frugal eye, |
That when I could not find it |
I sat me down to sigh. |
|
I had a crimson robin |
Who sang full many a day, |
But when the woods were painted |
He, too, did fly away. |
Time brought me other robins,— |
Their ballads were the same,— |
Still for my missing troubadour |
I kept the “house at hame.” |
|
I had a star in heaven; |
One Pleiad was its name, |
And when I was not heeding |
It wandered from the same. |
And though the skies are crowded, |
And all the night ashine, |
I do not care about it, |
Since none of them are mine. |
|
My story has a moral: |
I have a missing friend,— |
Pleiad its name, and robin, |
And guinea in the sand,— |
And when this mournful ditty, |
Accompanied with tear, |
Shall meet the eye of traitor |
In country far from here, |
Grant that repentance solemn |
May seize upon his mind, |
And he no consolation |
Beneath the sun may find. |
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:--
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met--
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.
О себе
Я, Максимова Анастасия Владимировна, родилась 10 мая 1985 года в городе Егорьевске Московской области. Фамилию не меняла. В 2002 году поступила и в 2007 году закончила Московский Государственный Университет имени М.А. Шолохова по специальности иностранные языки с квалификацией учитель английского языка. В
2012году проходила курсы повышения квалификации по теме: " Педагогические условия введения ФГОС 2-го покаления в начальной школе" в размере 72 часов. Являюсь участником районного семинара на базе МОУ СОШ №5 Егорьевского муниципального района Московской области, а также являюсь победителем районных конкурсов ШМО учителей английского языка "Методический ринг. Нестандартный урок" и "Методический ринг. Профессиональное мастерство" в номинации "Педагогический дебют". На сегоднешний момент мой педагогический стаж составляет 2 года. Семейное положение - не замужем.
Книги, которые сформировали мой внутренний мир
Классика, научно-популярная литература. Лев Николаевич Толстой "Четыре эпохи развития", "Детство" , Антон Семенович Макаренко "Педагогическ поэма" - книги которые помогоают лучше узнать себя и других.
Мой взгляд на мир
Хочешь быть кем-то, кем-то действительно особенным - будь собой!
Настоящее время требует яркой, творческой личности педагога, который призван овладеть культурой общечеловеческих ценностей и профессионального мышления.
Моё портфолио
Настоящее время требует яркой, творческой личности педагога, который призван овладеть культурой общечеловеческих ценностей и профессионального мышления.Профессия педагога является одной из самых первых и древнейших профессий, которая всегда востребована, требует определенных врожденных способностей, навыков и умений. Педагоги во все времена считались элитой общества, которая обладала прекрасным образованием, принимала активное участие в общественных делах и ставала опорой и двигателем любого переворота – от принятия законов до изменения государственного строя.
Талантливый педагог, который хочет развиваться и достигать все новых высот в профессиональной сфере, должен постоянно обучаться, не останавливаясь ни на минуту. Ведь общество постоянно меняется, поэтому меняются и его потребности, следовательно, и методы обучения нужные новые, адаптированные для современного ученика.
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