Anna Akhmatova
- The earthly glory is like smoke..., by Andrey Kneller
Anna Achmatowa (deutsch)
- Nur Rauch ist Ruhm auf Erden hier..., Eric Boerner
«Fierce valley, / Valley of love. / Hands: white with salt. / Mouth: black with blood. A left-breasted Amazon’s / Shaft just missed my temple. / Yes — my head on a stone — / Life, who could love you? To hell with my plans! To hell with my lies! / Here: as a lark, there: as...»
«Time I got the message. / In my deaf stupor — time / For those laws of the sublime / Life does telegraph. Uncertainly — on my shoulders, / My head crowned and pushed on. / Uncertainly — as a solitary ray, / Unnoticed in daylight. As if from a slack string — / Dust — shaken ...»
«Through all the tedious tasks of the day, / During all your arduous convulsions upon her, / You must let fall a few amiable trochees / Of mine, of me, your manly mistress. Of my sternness’ bitter edge, / Of my slight shyness’ latent heat, / And of my telegraphic stroke, / Whose name...»
«Drained — taken — overcome — / — Flat on my back! — I will die. / Like Polyxena, who beheld Achilles / There, on the wall — In red — a bloody tower on the horizon / Of bodies he had laid low. / Like Polyxena praying: "Who is this?" / (And knew — the pyre!) The unite...»