Literature
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Anna Akhmatova It’s fine here: the rustle and crackle
It’s fine here: the rustle and crackle;A hard frost every day,On the bush bowed with white fire,Icy, dazzling roses.And on…
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Anna Akhmatova It was not mystery or grief
It was not mystery or grief,Nor the wise will of fate –It was the impression of strife,Our meetings always left…
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Anna Akhmatova I’ve written down the words
I’ve written down the wordsThat I’ve not dared to speak.My body’s strangely dumb.Dully my head beats. The horn cries have…
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Anna Akhmatova I was not born too early or too late
I was not born too early or too late,The time was uniquely blessed,Only the Lord did not permitMy heart to…
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Anna Akhmatova I won’t beg for your love
I won’t beg for your love.It’s safely laid aside….I won’t be penning jealousLetters to your bride.But be wise, take my…
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Anna Akhmatova Legend on An Unfinished Portrait
Oh, there’s no reason for sighs,Sadness is pointless, a crime,Here, from grey canvas, I rise,Vaguely, strangely through time. Arms lifted,…
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Anna Akhmatova Let the organ peal out once more
Let the organ peal out once more,Like a first spring thunderstorm;From behind your bride’s shoulder,My half-closed eyes will gaze. Farewell,…
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Anna Akhmatova Like a white stone deep in a draw-well lying
Like a white stone deep in a draw-well lying,As hard and clear, a memory lies in me.I cannot strive nor…
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Anna Akhmatova Like a white stone in a well’s depths
Like a white stone in a well’s depths,A single memory remains to me,That I can’t, won’t fight against:It’s happiness –…
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Anna Akhmatova Like one betrothed I receive
Like one betrothed I receiveA letter at each day’s end,And late at night conceiveAn answer for my friend. ‘On my…
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