Anna Akhmatova
- I will quietly in the churchyard..., by Ilya Shambat
- In the churchyard, I’ll sleep soundly..., by Andrey Kneller
«To N. Aseyev* Night stands guard by blown-up bridges, / Horse has lost its way in mistiness. / Dying on the damp earth lies a laddie / Who for comfort could not care less. Warm caressing weather freezes quickly / On the laddie’s parched and lifeless lips / And the gleaming stars of 191...»
«Kakhovka*, Kakhovka, my rifle-companion, / A smouldering bullet discharge. / Irkutsk and Warszawa**, Oryol and Kakhovka — / The milestones of many a march. The lines were attacking and bullets rained heavy, / Machine guns were blasting away, / She came in her trenchcoat, through burning...»
«Oh, the nightingale sings in the graveyard, / Oh, the poplars hum over grave-mounds... / Who can tell us how many poor wretches, / Luckless orphans repose underground? I stand looking at somebody’s last home, / I’ve forgotten my dead happiness... / In the whole spacious world I have n...»
«Franz Josef Land / In a freezing sea / Is where I’ll forget / You abandoned me. Rot! I’m aware / On those Polar nights / You’ll shimmer there / In the Northern Lights And the Polar dawns / Will ripple as those / Long fingers of yours / Spread over the floes. Thrifty with l...»