Anna Akhmatova
- After the wind and the frost in the yard..., by Andrey Kneller
- Delightful, after all the wind and frost..., by Graham J. Harrison
«To Khodasevich / / A childhood memory: those pears, / wrinkled, little, tight, / and hidden inside / tart flesh that puckered the mouth: / exactly so my delight / in the bitter shards of your verse. »
«I shall not lie to find a lurid rhyme, / Honoured master, no harsh words from you: / Since the cot your choice has not been mine, / I can only do what I can do. / / How heartily I thank relentless Fate / For the prickly Muse that I’ve been given: / The path we walk is ours, though i...»
«Drowsily an aged pine / rustles in her sleep. / Leaning on her coarse-grained trunk / Here I stand and speak. / "little pine-tree, just my age, / Give me of your strength! / Not the usual nine months, / forty years I carried, / forty years I had been bearing, / forty years I had be...»
«Everything became conjoined – the very air / Around you to your very stars, the belt you wear, / Each of those stubborn springy steps of yours / And every line of your awkward verse. You – who were never bailed out / Are free to burn and free to squander. / Imagine this: we’ve never...»