Anna Akhmatova
- I will quietly in the churchyard..., by Ilya Shambat
- In the churchyard, I’ll sleep soundly..., by Andrey Kneller
«A life of fame is crude ambition, / It’s not what elevates and lifts. / No need to archive each revision, / And tremble over manuscripts. The goal of art is one’s self-giving, / And not the racket of success. / To be a fable with no meaning / Retold by all is shamefulness. Don’t ...»
«The cult of personality is stained, / But after forty years, the cult / Of gray monotony and disdain / Persists like in the days of old Each coming day appears lackluster, / Until it’s truly hard to bear, / It brings but photographic clusters / Of pig-like and inhuman stares. The cul...»
«Three months ago, it all had started. / The early blizzards swept by, rushing / Over our fields and yards unguarded / With some unmanageable passion. I then made up my mind at once, / As though a hermit on vocation, / I’d write of winter and perchance, / I would complete my spring col...»
«Snowflakes glide, snowflakes glide. / Cranesbills’ flowers reach in swarms / To the white stars in the storm / Through the window sash, outside. Snowflakes glide, and all is muddled, / All is now beginning flight, / And the dark stairs with the cobbled / Crosswalk all begin to slide. ...»