Anna Akhmatova

(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966 / Odessa)

Anna Akhmatova Poems

1. We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye 7/3/2015
2. To The Muse 10/5/2011
3. To Fall Ill As One Should, Deliriously 4/8/2010
4. One Goes In Straightforward Ways 4/8/2010
5. There Are The Words That Couldn’t Be Twice Said 4/8/2010
6. Our Native Earth 4/8/2010
7. Let Somebody Else Rest By Southern Sea 4/8/2010
8. The Pillow Hot 4/8/2010
9. My Hands Clasped Under A Veil 4/8/2010
10. Music 4/8/2010
11. I Was Born In The Right Time, In Whole 4/8/2010
12. So Again We Triumph! 4/8/2010
13. Reading 'Hamlet' 4/8/2010
14. To Boris Pasternak 4/8/2010
15. Sunshine Has Filled The Room 4/8/2010
16. You, Who Was Born For Poetry's Creation 4/8/2010
17. Rachel 4/8/2010
18. To The Many 4/8/2010
19. You'Ll Live, But I'Ll Not; Perhaps 4/8/2010
20. Now No-One Will Be Listening To Songs 4/8/2010
21. The Last Toast 4/8/2010
22. This Evening’s Light Is Golden Bright 4/8/2010
23. The Victory 4/8/2010
24. My Way 4/8/2010
25. They Didn’t Meet 4/8/2010
26. If The Moon On The Skies Does Not Roam 4/8/2010
27. Here Pushkin’s Endless Exile Has Begun 4/8/2010
28. I Saw My Friend At The Front Door 4/8/2010
29. I Have No Use For Odic Legions 4/8/2010
30. Thoughts Of The Sunlight 4/8/2010
31. How Many Demands... 4/8/2010
32. In The Evening 4/8/2010
33. He Did Love 4/8/2010
34. Gray-Eyed King 4/8/2010
35. In Dream 4/8/2010
36. True Tenderness 4/8/2010
37. Alexander By Thebes 4/8/2010
38. Greetings! 4/8/2010
39. As A White Stone In The Well's Cool Deepness 4/8/2010
40. Muse 4/8/2010
Best Poem of Anna Akhmatova

Everything

Everything’s looted, betrayed and traded,
black death’s wing’s overhead.
Everything’s eaten by hunger, unsated,
so why does a light shine ahead?

By day, a mysterious wood, near the town,
breathes out cherry, a cherry perfume.
By night, on July’s sky, deep, and transparent,
new constellations are thrown.

And something miraculous will come
close to the darkness and ruin,
something no-one, no-one, has known,
though we’ve longed for it since we were children.

Read the full of Everything

White Night

I haven't locked the door,
Nor lit the candles,
You don't know, don't care,
That tired I haven't the strength
To decide to go to bed.
Seeing the fields fade in
The sunset murk of pine-needles,
And to know all is lost,

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