The Akkerman Steppe
I launch myself across the dry and open narrows,
My carriage plunging into green as if a ketch,
Floundering through the meadow flowers in the stretch.
I pass an archipelago of coral yarrows.
It's dusk now, not a road in sight, nor ancient barrows.
I look up at the sky and look for stars to catch.
There distant clouds glint—there tomorrow starts to etch;
The Dnieper glimmers; Akkerman's lamp shines and harrows.
I stand in stillness, hear the migratory cranes,
Their necks and wings beyond the reach of preying hawks;
Hear where the sooty copper glides across the plains,
Where on its underside a viper writhes through stalks.
Amid the hush I lean my ears down grassy lanes
And listen for a voice from home. Nobody talks.
— translated from the Polish by Leo Yankevich
first appeared in the Sarmatian Review
Adam Mickiewicz's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Akkerman Steppe by Adam Mickiewicz )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- Weaver Of Waves, Saiom Shriver
- THAT PALM-TREE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Dune Fringed, Saiom Shriver
- Watery Arms, Saiom Shriver
- Wet With Words, George Egba
- From Chambered Shells, Saiom Shriver
- Blue Starred In The Blue Grass Spring Lu.., mary douglas
- Mist Clothed, Saiom Shriver
- Be A Man, Richard Provencher
- Respecting Autonomy, Saiom Shriver