Poems ✍️
  31.01.2026
  27

Author: Anna Akhmatova

Departure

Although this land is not my own,
I will remember its inland sea
and the waters that are so cold
the sand as white
as old bones, the pine trees
strangely red where the sun comes down.

I cannot say if it is our love,
or the day, that is ending.


  Exile love transience

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