Childhood. "Here is my village...". Surikov I. Z.

an excerpt from the poem by Ivan Surikov (1841-1880) is familiar to everyone from the school years. Surprisingly, it was precisely this fame that he played with the work of an angry joke: the first stanzas began to be perceived as an independent work about a ridiculous case with a village boy - he rolled up from a hill and somersaulted in the snow on a fun to friends.

And Surikov’s poem is much deeper and thinner. It is about a pure and cheerful world of childhood. It is about the Russian village almost lost now. It is about the world of a fairy tale, a joyful and free children's dream.

All these worlds with love and inspiration opens up a wonderful St. Petersburg artist Mikhail Bychkov for a little reader in his illustrations.