Anna Akhmatova

(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966 / Odessa)

White Night - Poem by Anna Akhmatova

I haven't locked the door,
Nor lit the candles,
You don't know, don't care,
That tired I haven't the strength
To decide to go to bed.
Seeing the fields fade in
The sunset murk of pine-needles,
And to know all is lost,

That life is a cursed hell:
I've got drunk
On your voice in the doorway.
I was sure you'd come back.

Comments about White Night by Anna Akhmatova

  • Susan Williams (1/6/2016 2:03:00 PM)

    Anna Akhmatova certainly makes the weather and the physical environment an inseparable part of her poem. The bleakness outside is matched by her emotional state. Excellent, isn't it? (Report) Reply

    16 person liked.
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  • (1/6/2016 1:13:00 PM)

    I wonder, who has translated it from Russian? (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sunset, strength, lost, night, life

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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