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").

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

Thoughts Of The Sunlight

Thoughts of the sunlight fainter and dimmer,And parched the grass.Breezes, freh breezes at dawn's early shimmer,Flit by repass.Look at the willows..

© Anna Akhmatova

I Have No Use For Odic Legions

I have no use for odic legions,Or for the charm of elegiac playFor me, all verse should be off kilterNot the usual way.If only you knew what trash..

© Anna Akhmatova

How Many Demands...

How many demands the beloved can make!The woman discarded, none.How glad I am that today the waterUnder the colorless ice is motionless.And I stand ..

© Anna Akhmatova

Now No-One Will Be Listening To Songs

Now no-one will be listening to songs.The days long prophesied have come to pass.The world has no more miracles. Don't breakMy heart, song, but be..

© Anna Akhmatova

In The Evening

The garden rang with musicOf inexpressible despair.A dish of oysters spread on iceSmelled like the ocean, fresh and sharp.He told me: 'I'm a faithful..

© Anna Akhmatova

The Last Toast

I drink to home, that is lost,To evil life of mine,To loneness in which we’re both,And to your future, fine, --To lips by which I was betrayed,To..

© Anna Akhmatova

He Did Love

He did love three things in this world:Choir chants at vespers, albino peacocks,And worn, weathered maps of America.And he did not love children..

© Anna Akhmatova

Somewhere There Is A Simple Life

Somewhere there is a simple life and a world,Transparent, warm and joyful. . .There at evening a neighbor talks with a girlAcross the fence, and only..

© Anna Akhmatova

Alexander By Thebes

I think, the king was fierce, though young,When he proclaimed, 'You’ll level Thebes with ground.'And the old chief perceived this city proud,He’d..

© Anna Akhmatova

This Evening’s Light Is Golden Bright

This evening's light is golden bright,The April’s coolness is so tender,Though you are many years too late,I still do welcome you to enter.Right next..

© Anna Akhmatova

In Dream

Black and enduring separationI share equally with you.Why weep? Give me your hand,Promise me you will come again.You and I are like highMountains and..

© Anna Akhmatova

True Tenderness

True tenderness is silentand can't be mistaken for anything else.In vain with earnest desireyou cover my shoulders with fur;In vain you try to..

© Anna Akhmatova

I am a Bard...

I am a bard - I am a heaven bird,I need no any richness of the world.I love a flower and so charming lassIn aromatic springs that never pass.I love a..

© Anna Akhmatova

Muse

When, in the night, I wait for her, impatient,Life seems to me, as hanging by a thread.What just means liberty, or youth, or approbation,When..

© Anna Akhmatova