Анна Ахматова
“You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.”
― Anna Akhmatova,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.”
― Anna Akhmatova,
I want to smell the tender roses,
Before their petals droop and fall,
In that one garden, in St Petersburg,
The most beautiful city in holy Russia,
In the whole world this city stands out.
There statues remember me when I was young
And I remember them all along the river Neva,
In the fragrant silence between the Tsars and Putin.
I have changed form
No longer a young woman, a poet full of images
Now I am a metal statue on a plinth
In this freezing empty square
For me, I prefer to hear the masts of ships creak
As a beautiful swan swims through the ages,
Imagining the sublimity of her scattered reflection.
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