Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

“Hops of Life”

In meadows green where sunlight falls,The rabbit leaps and softly calls.A fleeting shadow, swift and small,Yet life is gentle after all.Through grass..

© Rabbit day

To The Londoners

(From the 'In the Fortieth Year')1940The twenty-fourth drama of ShakespeareTime's writing with its indifferent hand.We, selves, the guests of the..

© Anna Akhmatova

We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye

We don't know how to say good-byeWe wander on, shoulder by shoulder.Already the sun is going down.You're moody, I am your shadow.Let's step inside a..

© Anna Akhmatova

When I Write Poems

When I'm embraced by airy inspiration,I am a bridge between the sky and earth.Of all what heart high-values in creationI am a king, when breathing..

© Anna Akhmatova

To Fall Ill As One Should, Deliriously

To fall ill as one should, deliriouslyHot, meet everyone again,To stroll broad avenues in the seashore gardenFull of the wind and the sun.Even the..

© Anna Akhmatova

One Goes In Straightforward Ways

One goes in straightforward ways,One in a circle roams:Waits for a girl of his gone days,Or for returning home.But I do go -- and woe is there --By a..

© Anna Akhmatova

I Was Born In The Right Time, In Whole

I was born in the right time, in whole,Only this time is one that is blessed,But great God did not let my poor soulLive without deceit on this..

© Anna Akhmatova

To Boris Pasternak

It ceased – the voice, inimitable here,The peer of groves left forever us,He changed himself into eternal ear...Into the rain, of that sang more than..

© Anna Akhmatova

Reading 'Hamlet'

1The lot by the graves was a dusty hot land;The river behind -- blue and cool.You told me, 'Well, go to a convent,Or go marry a fool...'Princes..

© Anna Akhmatova

Sunshine Has Filled The Room

Sunshine has filled the roomwith clear golden specks of dust.I woke up and remembered,dear, it was your birthday.But far beyond my windowssnow has..

© Anna Akhmatova

Rachel

When Jacob and Rachel met for the first time,He bowed to her like a humble wayfarer.The herds were raising hot dust to the skies,The little well's..

© Anna Akhmatova

You, Who Was Born For Poetry's Creation

You, who was born for poetry's creation,Do not repeat the sayings of the ancients.Though, maybe, our Poetry, itself,Is just a single beautiful..

© Anna Akhmatova

To The Many

I -- am your voice, the warmth of your breath,I -- am the reflection of your face,The futile trembling of futile wings,I am with you to he end, in..

© Anna Akhmatova

You'Ll Live, But I'Ll Not; Perhaps

You'll live, but I'll not; perhaps,The final turn is that.Oh, how strongly grabs usThe secret plot of fate.They differently shot us:Each creature has..

© Anna Akhmatova

There Are The Words That Couldn’t Be Twice Said

There are the words that couldn’t be twice said,He, who said once, spent out all his senses.Only two things have never their end –The heavens’ blue..

© Anna Akhmatova

The Victory

2Over a pier, the first beacon inflamed --The vanguard of other sea-rangers;The mariner cried and bared his head;He sailed with death beside and..

© Anna Akhmatova

They Didn’t Meet

They didn't meet me, roamed,On steps with lanterns bright.I entered quiet homeIn murky, pail moonlight.Under a lamp's green halo,With smile of kept..

© Anna Akhmatova

My Way

One goes in straightforward ways,One in a circle roams:Waits for a girl of his gone days,Or for returning home.But I do go -- and woe is there --By a..

© Anna Akhmatova

My Hands Clasped Under A Veil

My hands clasped under a veil, dim and hazy…'Why are you so pale and upset?'That’s because I today made him crazyWith the sour wine of regret.Can't..

© Anna Akhmatova

If The Moon On The Skies Does Not Roam

If the moon on the skies does not roam,But cools, like a seal above,My dead husband enters the homeTo read the letters of love.He remembers the box..

© Anna Akhmatova

Music

Something of heavens ever burns in it,I like to watch its wondrous facets' growth.It speaks with me in fate's non-seldom fits,When others fear to..

© Anna Akhmatova

Here Pushkin’s Endless Exile Has Begun

Here Pushkin's endless exile has begun,And Lermontov's exile turned out fatal,The mountain grass has a smell so sweet and gentle,And only once I..

© Anna Akhmatova

So Again We Triumph!

So again we triumph!Again we do not come!Our speeches silent,Our words, dumb.Our eyes that have not metAgain, are lost;And only tears forgetThe grip..

© Anna Akhmatova

I Saw My Friend At The Front Door

I saw my friend to the front doorI stood in the golden dust.Momentous sounds issuedFrom the little belfry close by.Tossed! Such a made-up word-What..

© Anna Akhmatova

Our Native Earth

We do not carry it in lockets on the breast,And do not cry about it in poems,It does not wake us from the bitter rest,And does not seem to us like..

© Anna Akhmatova