Works by Gianni Rodari for children: list. Works by Gianni Rodari for children: list What is the shortest fairy tale from Rodari

In Russia, J. Rodari is probably loved by everyone - both children and adults. They love him for his cheerfulness and inexhaustible imagination, for his funny humor. They are valued for their respect for the hands of honest workers and for their dislike for rich white-handed people. He knew perfectly well what different professions smell like, what the tears of beggar children are worth. Without hiding the fact that there is a huge amount of injustice in the world - in a world where money reigns - Rodari believed in the victory of love and goodness and with this faith captivated his readers.

By inventing his fairy tales, Gianni Rodari helped educate children all over the world. He wanted them to be creative people - and it didn’t matter whether they became astronauts or geologists, drivers or sailors, doctors or pastry chefs. After all, a vivid imagination is needed not so that everyone will be poets, but in order to “not be a slave.”
It is also worth noting that Rodari’s fairy tales instill masculinity, kindness and honesty in children, making them cheerful and talkative - so that they always remain optimistic. It was this goal that he sought to achieve with all his works.

The characters born from the imagination of D. Rodari appeared from the pages of a fairy tale. The writer met the funny Neapolitan face of his hero in the Palace of Culture, in the theater foyer, and in the homes of Moscow children. A storyteller's dream has come true. The toys he made “from letters” in his stories turned into real ones. They can be fun to play with the whole family. Rodari's fairy tales are the same ordinary toys that help moms and dads get closer to their children and laugh together. On our website you can look online list fairy tales by Gianni Rodari, and enjoy reading them absolutely free.

Chapter 1. Signora five minutes to Baroness Fairy was an old lady, very well-bred and noble, almost a baroness. “They call me,” she sometimes muttered to herself, “just Fairy, and I don’t protest: after all, you need to have condescension towards the ignorant.” But I'm almost a baroness; decent people know this. “Yes, Signora Baroness,” the maid assented. “I’m not a 100% baroness, but I don’t have enough of her...

CHAPTER 1: In which Cipollone crushed Prince Lemon's leg Cipollino was Cipollone's son. And he had seven brothers: Cipolletto, Cipollotto, Cipolloccia, Cipolluccia and so on - the most suitable names for the honest onion family. They were good people, I must say frankly, but they were just unlucky in life. What can you do: where there are onions, there are tears. Cipollone, his wife and sons lived in a wooden shack...

There was once a war, a big and terrible war between two countries. A lot of soldiers died on the battlefield then. We were on our side, and the enemies were on theirs. The shooting went on day and night, but the war still did not end, and we began to run out of bronze for the guns, ran out of iron for the machine guns, and so on. Then our commander, Overgeneral...

1 - About the little bus who was afraid of the dark

Donald Bisset


A fairy tale about how mother bus taught her little bus not to be afraid of the dark... About the little bus who was afraid of the dark read Once upon a time there was a little bus in the world. He was bright red and lived with his dad and mom in the garage. Every morning...

2 - Three kittens

Suteev V.G.

A short fairy tale for the little ones about three fidgety kittens and their funny adventures. Little kids love it short stories with pictures, that’s why Suteev’s fairy tales are so popular and loved! Three kittens read Three kittens - black, gray and...

3 - Hedgehog in the fog

Kozlov S.G.


A fairy tale about a Hedgehog, how he was walking at night and got lost in the fog. He fell into the river, but someone carried him to the shore. It was a magical night! Hedgehog in the fog read Thirty mosquitoes ran out into the clearing and began to play...

4 - About the mouse from the book

Gianni Rodari


A short story about a mouse who lived in a book and decided to jump out of it into big world. Only he did not know how to speak the language of mice, but knew only a strange bookish language... Read about a mouse from a book...

5 - Apple

Suteev V.G.


A fairy tale about a hedgehog, a hare and a crow who could not divide the last apple among themselves. Everyone wanted to take it for themselves. But the fair bear judged their dispute, and everyone got a piece of the treat... Apple read It was late...

6 - Black Pool

Kozlov S.G.


A fairy tale about a cowardly Hare who was afraid of everyone in the forest. And he was so tired of his fear that he decided to drown himself in the Black Pool. But he taught the Hare to live and not be afraid! Black Whirlpool read Once upon a time there was a Hare...

7 - About the Hedgehog and the Rabbit A piece of winter

Stewart P. and Riddell K.


The story is about how the Hedgehog, before hibernation, asked the Rabbit to save him a piece of winter until spring. The rabbit rolled up a large ball of snow, wrapped it in leaves and hid it in his hole. About the Hedgehog and the Rabbit A piece...

8 - About the Hippopotamus, who was afraid of vaccinations

Suteev V.G.

A fairy tale about a cowardly hippopotamus who ran away from the clinic because he was afraid of vaccinations. And he fell ill with jaundice. Luckily, he was taken to the hospital and treated. And the hippopotamus became very ashamed of his behavior... About the Hippopotamus, who was afraid...

Gianni Rodari

Bon appetit!

This book contains most of my stories written for children over fifteen years. You will say that this is not enough. In 15 years, if I wrote only one page every day, I could already have about 5,500 pages. This means that I wrote much less than I could. And yet I don’t consider myself a big lazy person!

The fact is that during these years I was still working as a journalist and doing many other things. For example, I wrote articles for newspapers and magazines, dealt with school problems, played with my daughter, listened to music, went for a walk, and thought. And thinking is also a useful thing. Maybe even the most useful of all others. In my opinion, every person should think for half an hour a day. This can be done everywhere - sitting at the table, walking in the forest, alone or in company.

I became a writer almost by accident. I wanted to be a violinist, and I studied the violin for several years. But since 1943 I have not touched it anymore. The violin has been with me ever since. I'm always planning to add strings that are missing, fix a broken neck, buy a new bow to replace the old one, which is completely disheveled, and start the exercises again from the first position. Maybe I'll do it someday, but I don't have time yet. I would also like to be an artist. True, at school I always had bad grades in drawing, and yet I always really loved using a pencil and painting in oils. Unfortunately, at school we were forced to do such tedious things that they could make even a cow lose patience. In a word, like all the guys, I dreamed about a lot, but then I didn’t do much, but did what I least thought about.

However, without even knowing it, I spent a long time preparing for my writing career. For example, I became school teacher. I don't think I was a very good teacher: I was too young and my thoughts were very far from my school desks. Perhaps I was a cheerful teacher. I told the guys different funny stories- stories without any meaning, and the more absurd they were, the more the children laughed. This already meant something. In the schools I know, I don't think they laugh much. Much that could be learned laughing is learned with tears - bitter and useless.

But let's not get distracted. Anyway, I have to tell you about this book. I hope she will be as happy as a toy. By the way, here is another activity that I would like to devote myself to: making toys. I always wanted toys to be unexpected, with a twist, so that they would suit everyone. Such toys last a long time and never get boring. Not knowing how to work with wood or metal, I tried to make toys from words. Toys, in my opinion, are as important as books: if it weren't, kids wouldn't love them. And since they love them, it means that toys teach them something that cannot be learned otherwise.

I would like the toys to serve both adults and little ones, so that the whole family, the whole class, together with the teacher can play with them. I would like my books to be the same. And this one too. She should help parents get closer to their children so that they can laugh and argue with her. I am pleased when some boy willingly listens to my stories. I rejoice even more when this story makes him want to talk, express his opinion, ask adults questions, demand that they answer.

My book is being published in the Soviet Union. I'm very pleased with this, because Soviet guys are excellent readers. I met many Soviet children in libraries, in schools, in the Palaces of Pioneers, in Houses of Culture - everywhere I visited. And now I’ll tell you where I’ve been: Moscow, Leningrad, Riga, Alma-Ata, Simferopol, Artek, Yalta, Sevastopol, Krasnodar, Nalchik. In Artek I met guys with Far North And Far East. They were all great book eaters. How great it is to know that a book, no matter how thick or thin it is, is printed not to lie somewhere in the dust on a display case or in a closet, but to be swallowed, eaten with excellent appetite, digested hundreds of thousands of guys.

Therefore, I thank all those who prepared this book, and those who, so to speak, will eat it. I hope you will like it.

Bon appetit!

Gianni Rodari

Journey of the Blue Arrow

Chapter I. SIGNORA FIVE MINUTES BARONESS

The fairy was an old lady, very well-bred and noble, almost a baroness.

They call me,” she sometimes muttered to herself, “simply Fairy, and I don’t protest: after all, you need to have condescension towards the ignorant. But I'm almost a baroness; decent people know this.

Yes, Signora Baroness,” the maid agreed.

I'm not a 100% Baroness, but I'm not so far short of her. And the difference is almost invisible. Isn't it?

Unnoticed, Signora Baroness. And decent people don’t notice her...

It was just the first morning of the new year. All night long the Fairy and her maid traveled across the rooftops, delivering gifts. Their dresses were covered with snow and icicles.

“Light the stove,” said the Fairy, “you need to dry your clothes.” And put the broom in its place: now for a whole year you don’t have to think about flying from roof to roof, especially with such a north wind.

The maid put the broom back, grumbling:

Nice little thing - flying on a broom! This is in our time when airplanes were invented! I already caught a cold because of this.

“Prepare me a glass of flower infusion,” the Fairy ordered, putting on her glasses and sitting down in the old leather chair that stood in front of the desk.

“Right now, Baroness,” said the maid.

The fairy looked at her approvingly.

“She’s a little lazy,” thought the Fairy, “but she knows the rules.” good manners and knows how to behave with the lady of my circle. I will promise her to increase wages. In fact, of course, I won’t give her an increase, and there’s not enough money anyway.”

It must be said that the Fairy, for all her nobility, was rather stingy. Twice a year she promised the old maid an increase in wages, but limited herself to promises alone. The maid had long been tired of listening only to words; she wanted to hear the clink of coins. Once she even had the courage to tell the Baroness about this. But the Fairy was very indignant:

Coins and coins! - she said, sighing, “Ignorant people only think about money.” And how bad it is that you not only think, but also talk about it! Apparently, teaching you good manners is like feeding a donkey sugar.

This book contains most of my stories written for children over fifteen years. You will say that this is not enough. In 15 years, if I wrote only one page every day, I could already have about 5,500 pages. This means that I wrote much less than I could. And yet I don’t consider myself a big lazy person!

The fact is that during these years I was still working as a journalist and doing many other things. For example, I wrote articles for newspapers and magazines, dealt with school problems, played with my daughter, listened to music, went for a walk, and thought. And think– ego also a useful thing. Maybe even the most useful of all others. In my opinion, every person should think for half an hour a day. This can be done everywhere– sitting at the table, walking in the forest, alone or in company.

I became a writer almost by accident. I wanted to be a violinist, and I studied the violin for several years. But since 1943 I have not touched it anymore. The violin has been with me ever since. I'm always planning to add strings that are missing, fix a broken neck, buy a new bow to replace the old one, which is completely disheveled, and start the exercises again from the first position. Maybe I'll do it someday, but I don't have time yet. I would also like to be an artist. True, at school I always had bad grades in drawing, and yet I always really loved using a pencil and painting in oils. Unfortunately, at school we were forced to do such tedious things that they could make even a cow lose patience. In a word, like all the guys, I dreamed about a lot, but then I didn’t do much, but did what I least thought about.

However, without even knowing it, I spent a long time preparing for my writing career. For example, I became a school teacher. I don't think I was a very good teacher: I was too young, and my thoughts were very far from my school desks. Perhaps I was a fun teacher. I told the guys different funny stories– stories without any meaning, and the more absurd they were, the more the children laughed. This already meant something. In the schools I know, I don't think they laugh much. Much that could be learned laughing is learned with tears.– bitter and useless.

But let's not get distracted. One way or another, I must tell you about this book. I hope she will be as happy as a toy. By the way, here is another activity that I would like to devote myself to: making toys. I always wanted toys to be unexpected, with a twist, so that they would suit everyone. Such toys last a long time and never get boring. Not knowing how to work with wood or metal, I tried to make toys from words. Toys, in my opinion, are as important as books: if it weren't, kids wouldn't love them. And since they love them, it means that toys teach them something that cannot be learned otherwise.

I would like the toys to serve both adults and children, so that the whole family, the whole class, together with the teacher can play with them. I would like my books to be the same. And this one– Same. She should help parents get closer to their children so that they can laugh and argue with her. I am pleased when some boy willingly listens to my stories. I rejoice even more when this story makes him want to talk, express his opinion, ask adults questions, demand that they answer.

My book is being published in the Soviet Union. I'm very pleased with this, because the Soviet guys– great readers. I met many Soviet children in libraries, in schools, in the Palaces of Pioneers, in Houses of Culture– everywhere I've been. And now I’ll tell you where I’ve been: Moscow, Leningrad, Riga, Alma-Ata, Simferopol, Artek, Yalta, Sevastopol, Krasnodar, Nalchik. In Artek I met guys from the Far North and Far East. They were all great book eaters. How great it is to know that the book, whatever it is– thick or thin, – it is printed not to lie somewhere in the dust on a display case or in a closet, but so that hundreds of thousands of children will swallow it, eat it, and digest it with excellent appetite.

Therefore, I thank all those who prepared this book, and those who, so to speak, will eat it. I hope you will like it.

Bon appetit!

GianniRodari 1969

PaoletteRodari and her friends of all colors

Once upon a time there lived... Signor Bianchi. He lived in the city of Varese and was an employee of a trading company that sold medicines. His work was very hectic. Every week, six days out of seven, he traveled throughout Italy. He traveled west and east, south and north, and back again - and so on, including Saturday. He spent Sunday at home with his daughter, and on Monday, as soon as the sun rose, he hit the road again. His daughter accompanied him and always reminded him:

- Do you hear, dad, I’m waiting again tonight a new fairy tale!

I must tell you that this girl could not sleep until they told her a fairy tale. Mom had already told her three times everything she knew: there were stories, fables, and just fairy tales. And she still can’t get enough! My father also had to take up this craft. Wherever he was, no matter what place in Italy he found himself, every evening at exactly nine o’clock he called home and told a new fairy tale over the phone. He invented them himself and told them himself. This book contains all these “tales on the telephone”, and you can read them. They, as you will notice, are not very long. After all, Signor Bianchi had to pay for telephone conversation out of his own pocket, and, you know, he couldn't talk for too long. Only sometimes, when things were going well for him, would he allow himself to talk longer. Of course, if the fairy tale deserved it.

I’ll tell you a secret: when Signor Bianchi called Varese, even the telephone operators stopped their work and listened to his tales with pleasure. Of course, I actually like some of them!

Unlucky Hunter

“Take a gun, Giuseppe,” the mother once said to her son, “and go hunting.” Tomorrow your sister is getting married, and you need to prepare a festive dinner. Hare meat would be very good for this.

Giuseppe took the gun and went hunting. As soon as he stepped out onto the road, he saw a hare running. The scythe jumped out from under the fence and ran into the field. Giuseppe raised his gun, took aim and pulled the trigger. But the gun didn’t even think about shooting!

- Poom! - it suddenly said in a ringing and cheerful voice and threw the bullet onto the ground.

Giuseppe froze in surprise. I picked up the bullet, turned it over in my hands - the bullet was like a bullet! Then he examined the gun - the gun is like a gun! And yet it did not fire like all normal guns, but loudly and cheerfully said “Pum!” Giuseppe even looked into the barrel, but how could anyone hide there?! Of course, there was no one there.

“What should we do? Mom is waiting for me to bring a hare from the hunt. My sister is having a wedding, I need to prepare a festive dinner...”

Giuseppe barely had time to think this when he suddenly saw the hare again. Only it turned out that it was a hare, because she had a wedding veil with flowers on her head and she walked modestly with her eyes down, finely moving her paws.

That's it! – Giuseppe was surprised. – The hare is also getting married! I'll probably have to look for a pheasant.

Read Rodari's tales

About Gianni Rodari

In 1920, a boy, Gianni, was born into a baker's family in Italy. He was often sick, cried, and was difficult to educate. The kid himself became interested in music and literature, played the violin and read books by Nietzsche and Schopenhauer, unusual for children.

The soul of the family was the father, who knew how to have fun and fill the lives of his wife and three sons with joy. His death was a heavy blow for Gianni, his mother, brothers Mario and Cesare. Mom worked day and night to somehow feed the family.

The boys studied at the theological seminary, because there was no need to pay, and with all their hearts they hated studying, the boring, measured life and the poverty that surrounded them. Gianni spent all his time in the library in order to somehow kill time, and then he developed a taste for it and could no longer tear him away from books.

In 1937, Gianni's torment ended with the end of the seminary. The young man began working as a teacher to earn money and help his mother, while studying at the University of Milan. However, with the outbreak of war, Gianni Rodari’s life changed...

A significant year in his life was 1952 - it was then future writer came to the USSR, where over time his fairy tales were loved more than in his homeland. In 1970, Gianni's Andersen Prize brought him long-awaited fame.

About the fairy tales of Gianni Rodari

The tales of Gianni Rodari are fantastic stories in which there is no banality or obsessive morality, everything in them is simple and at the same time filled with magic. Reading Rodari's tales, an adult will be more than once surprised by the author's gift for inventing unusual characters. The child always reads or listens with sparkling eyes about the miracles that happen in fairy tales and empathizes with the heroes.

One way or another, you need to be an extraordinary person and love children very much in order to write such wonderful fairy tales, fill them with joy and fun, and shade them with a little sadness, but only slightly.

Gianni Rodari himself really wanted children to treat his fairy tales like toys, that is, to have fun, come up with their own endings to stories that they would never get tired of. Rodari tried to help parents get closer to their children and was very happy if the book was not only read, but also made the children want to talk, argue, and invent their own stories.

I would like to finish our a short history about the life and work of Gianni Rodari in his own words: “Books are the best toys, and without toys, children simply cannot grow up kind.”