Anna Akhmatova

(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966 / Odessa)

Anna Akhmatova Poems

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

Comments about Anna Akhmatova

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  • Hamza (2/26/2018 12:56:00 AM)

    I like it so much

  • himu khan (12/23/2017 6:21:00 AM)

    she was a high.measure profitable poetI have ever seen....

  • Saeedeh Moosavi (11/28/2016 6:32:00 AM)

    thanks alot. but who is the translator?

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (10/10/2015 10:45:00 AM)

    a tribute to a great Poetess:

    Ленинград в марте 1941

    Cadran solaire на Меньшиковом доме.
    Подняв волну, проходит пароход.
    О, есть ли что на свете мне знакомей,
    Чем шпилей блеск и отблеск этих вод!
    Как щелочка, чернеет переулок.
    Садятся воробьи на провода.
    У наизусть затверженных прогулок
    Соленый привкус — тоже не беда.

    (Анна Ахматова)

  • Misha Allport Misha Allport (1/23/2014 11:40:00 AM)

    A restrained elegance enveloped in a Slavic midnight hue.

  • Sylva Portoian Sylva Portoian (6/26/2012 6:52:00 AM)

    She has a voice...
    No one can cross...
    She has a chant...
    Like a 'Breathing Rose'...!

  • Charmaine Sinclair (5/17/2009 7:16:00 AM)

    Her words are so simply hung. I love her words.

  • Dana Santos (4/26/2004 4:07:00 PM)

    i like it very touching

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

In Memory Of M.B.

Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
not sticks of burning incense.
You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
your magnificent disdain.
You drank wine, and told the wittiest jokes,
and suffocated inside stifling walls.
Alone you let the terrible stranger in,
and stayed with her alone.

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