Anna Akhmatova
- He walked over fields and over village..., by Ilya Shambat
- Through villages and fields, he’d go..., by Andrey Kneller
«To Lydia Zinoviev-Annibal For days on end we sailed the river Ocean / To meet the day; our sails are stretched and sure / Our course, resistless land propels our motion; / The voice of waves grows weary and obscure, The orb of day goes blind and burns carnationred; / at last, night falls, ...»
«Your love is like the Milky Way / Whose stellar dew inside me glimmers. / In dreams, its hidden torment shimmers / Like diamonds rippling in the waves. You are, like astral fluid, bitter, / The light of tears that pierces graves. / I am the skyline that obeys / The dawn, its blind and u...»
«The barren slope of the meandering valley / Is overgrown with hoary, wiry grass. / Spurge shows up white. Eroded beds of clay / Reveal the sparkling lead and shale and mica. The water-worn and slaty walls sprout capers; / A crevice clasps the olive’s withered trunk; / Above the hill, th...»
«A sacred wood was here. The messenger of gods / Would let his winged foot fall lightly on these glades. / The onetime site of cities kept no trace of their ruin. / In flocks, sheep creep along the bronze inclines. The slopes are woodless. In the green twilight, the mountains / Form a jagged...»