And this tenderness was not like That which a certain poet At the beginning of the century called true And, for some reason, quiet. No, not at allย It rang out, like the first waterfall, It crunched like the crust of bluish ice And it prayed with a swanlike voice, And it broke down right before our eyes.
Anna AkhmatovaI know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death, and something else I'd rather not recall just now.
Anna AkhmatovaI am in the middle of it: chaos and poetry; poetry and love and again, complete chaos. Pain, disorder, occasional clarity; and at the bottom of it all: only love; poetry. Sheer enchantment, fear, humiliation. It all comes with love
Anna AkhmatovaAnd you know, I agree to everything: I will condemn, I will forget, I will give comfort to the enemy, Darkness will be light and sin lovely.
Anna Akhmatova