Poems by Anna Akhmatova
In Memoriam, July 19, 1914
... The hushed road burst in colors then, a soaring ...
I Wrung My Hands
... . . I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters, ...
March Elegy
... Whose face is pressed against the frosted pane ...
Memory Of Sun
... Hover, hover.Water becoming ice is slowing in ...
Solitude
... And from my hand a dove eats grains of wheat ...
The Sentence
... Is like a festival outside my window ...
Twenty-First. Night. Monday
... Monday. Silhouette of the capitol in darkness ...
Under Her Dark Veil
... I ran down not touching the bannisterAnd caught up with him at the gate ...
You Thought I Was That Type
... And throw myself under the hooves of a bay mare,Or that I'd ask the sorcerers ...
Lot's Wife
... "It's not too late, you can still look backat the red towers of your native Sodom, ...
Why Is This Age Worse...?
... but here Death is already chalking the doors with crosses, ...
In Memory of M. B.
... Oh, who would have dared believe that half-crazed I, ...
Thunder
... The entire world will turn the colour of crimson stone, ...
Sunbeam
... I pray to the sunbeam from the window - ...
Lying in me
... I know the gods changed people into things, ...
