Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky

(1 September 1855 - 13 December 1909 / Omsk)

Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky Poems

1. Poppies 4/21/2010
2. The Autumnal Romance 4/21/2010
3. The Pine Of Reminiscence 4/21/2010
4. The Bow And The Strings 4/27/2012
5. Notturno 4/23/2012
6. September 4/21/2010
7. The Anguish Of A Mirage 4/21/2010
8. The Candles Are Brought In 4/21/2010
9. I Thought That The Heart... 4/21/2010
10. Ego 4/21/2010
11. Harmony 4/21/2010
12. Poetry (Sonnet) 4/21/2010
13. My Life's Burden... 4/21/2010
14. After The Concert 4/21/2010
15. The Old Barrel Organ 4/21/2010
16. To The Poet 4/21/2010
17. Two Loves 4/21/2010
18. Children 4/21/2010
19. Sad Country 4/23/2012
20. You'Re Again With Me 4/21/2010
21. A Gas Butterfly 1/1/2004
22. Among Worlds 1/1/2004
23. Among The Worlds 4/23/2012
24. Bow And Strings 1/1/2004
25. Amethysts 4/21/2010
26. The Spring Romance 4/21/2010

Comments about Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky

  • Souren Mondal Souren Mondal (9/27/2015 10:22:00 PM)

    Just dicovered this man a few days ago.. Been reading his poems.. I guess the opinions about him would be highly divided.. Hard to say whether he wrote well or was just mediocore...

    3 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
Best Poem of Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky

Bow And Strings

What heavy, dark delirium!
What dim and moonlit heights!
To touch the violin for years
And not to know the strings by light!

Who needs us now? And who lit up
Two hollow, melancholy faces...
And suddenly the bow felt
Someone take them up, unite them.

"How long it's been! Amidst this gloom
Just tell me this: are you still the same?"
The strings caressed the bow,
Rang out, caressed it slightly trembling.

"Is it not true, that we will never more
Be parted. It's enough..."
Yes, replied the violin,
But pain ...

Read the full of Bow And Strings

After The Concert

The blackened skies have reached the garden walk;
Yet my poor heart tonight cannot be not the restless…
The lights that have been failed, the lost of sounds talk,
Are they the remnants of the dream in sadness?

Oh, how sad it was, the satin of her dress,
Her breast was very white, among the straps black fair!
How sorry I was then to see her eyes distressed,
Her hands in snowy gloves, resigned as to a prayer!

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