Anna Akhmatova
- The door ajar, the sudden..., by Andrey Kneller
- The door is half open..., by Richard McKane
Anna Ajmátova (español)
- La puerta está semiabierta..., Kseniya Tokareva
«Word’s brief. Age has a narrow span. / Which niche then has a place for man? / Where and when, in which lost hole / Do roses unfold inside his soul? / How quick must he be, his chance being slim / To stay numb and to sing as measured for him, / To patter upon the planet, and / To tu...»
«Amidst the throes of mortal daring, / I know: Black Angel shall one day / Show from the dark to scream, unsparing, / That our salvation has no way. But, diffident and simple-minded / And as a holy message fair, / White Angel shall appear behind it / To whisper softly: hope is there.»
«Let us acclaim, applause, and sing each other praises. / No need to be too shy of using lofty phrases. / Let’s generously show each other recognition — / These are the precious times when love fulfills its mission. Let’s genuinely grieve and cry sincerely, whether / We do so taking tu...»
«As Moscow’s left behind, the peasant spirit’s cleaner; / The water has more blue; the sky is almost close. / With rare devotion sounds the forest concertina; / The player’s forelock drops to touch the low-pitch rows. His fingers dance in line, move fleetly taking chances, / And midst ...»