Anna Akhmatova
- I was born neither early nor late..., by Andrey Kneller
- I was born not late and not early..., by Ilya Shambat
«Those who are woken, pray for me, / All those who hold a splinter of my soul. / The hour has come, brief steps lie to the goal — / All I have seen in dreams has come to be. Brothers and friends are lost in weary sleep. / The spirit is in mortal suffering spent. / The hour has come; the ...»
«В бдение молете се за мен, / сбрали крехките отломки на душата. / Час настъпва, следва пътят кратък, / сънищата ми се сбъдват в този ден. Дух на смъртна мъка е залог; »
«The coachman sits like a king, / Wadded in armor, on a throne, / Spade-bearded like an icon, / Ringing with chain mail of coins. / And the poor horse flutters its arms, / Stretching like a coney fish, / Or, once more, flashing its eight legs / From out its gleaming belly.»
«Somewhere in a field near Magadan, / Despairing and fearing for their life, / Through the swirling, freezing mists / They trudge behind the sledges. / From the soldiers’ iron roar, / From the preying gang of thieves, / Only the first aid post can save them here, / Or being sent for f...»