Anna Akhmatova Poems

Tallest, suavest of us, why Memory,
forcing you to appear from the past, pass
down a train, swaying, to find me
clear profiled through the window-glass?
...

And I grew up in patterned tranquillity,
In the cool nursery of the young century.
And the voice of man was not dear to me,
But the voice of the wind I could understand.
...

Thank you, God: I dream of him more seldom,
And don't see him now in every place,
The white path with clouds has been laden,
...

Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
not sticks of burning incense.
You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
...

And as it's going often at love's breaking,
The ghost of first days came again to us,
The silver willow through window then stretched in,
...

As a white stone in the well's cool deepness,
There lays in me one wonderful remembrance.
I am not able and don't want to miss this:
It is my tort ...
...

The two of us won’t share a glass together
Be it of water or of sweet red wine;
We won’t be kissing, in the morning either
...

In human closeness there is a secret edge,
Nor love nor passion can pass it above,
Let lips with lips be joined in silent rage,
...

I don't like flowers - they do remind me often
Of funerals, of weddings and of balls;
Their presence on tables for a dinner calls.

But sub-etern...
...

Do you hear the soft rustle
beside your table?
Don't bother to write
for I'll come to you.
...