Four poems By Anna Akhamatova

Anna Andreevna Gorenko, known as Anna Akhmatova, reigns as one of the greatest poets of the 20th Century.  She was one of the Acmeists, who also included Gumilev, her first husband, and Mandelshtam.  They stressed the craft of poetry in contrast with the Symbolists, who were often more mystical.  Akhmatova’s poetry exhibits a wide range of subjects, including many poems about love, infatuation, irony, and disillusionment. 

Note—Russian poets often composed poems that answered or embellished poems by other Russian poets they admired. This poem is a response to Blok’s poem just previously presented.

1.

Right he is – street-lamp, pharmacy again,
granite banks, silence, the Neva…
steeped monument to the age.
Majestic flight where he stands –      

and to Pushkin House threw he a wave,
grandly weaving one last phrased turn,
then proclaimed fatal enervation
           To a rest never deserved.

1940

2.
                 COURAGE

    Now we know the stakes demanded,
    What crude trial snatches at grace.
    Sealed stares of courage have seized our clocks.
    Daring that will never desert us.
    If bullets only kill, so be it.
    No roof left, it can’t be that bitter.
    We’ll preserve mother Russia’s holy tongue--
    The soul-imbued Russian language,
    And ferry her to sweet posterity,
    Pure and free from enslavement.
Amen!

    23 February 1942

3.
               WHEN A MAN DIES

    When a man dies
    His portraits change.
    His eyes perceive differently
    While lips curl refreshing smiles. 
    I observed such stark clarity after 
    returning from a certain poet’s funeral.         
    And witnessed it often since,
    insight profusely verified.
  

    1913
                                                                                                                                                                        
4.            CONFUSION

        

    Bemused yet stifled by scorching light,
    his glances stung like the rays of the sun.
    My heart shuddered at the sight.                                        
    He could tame me, this one.
    He swept a bow – uttered silly trifles.
    Blushes drained from my face.
    Let love lie prostrate on my life
    like a tombstone on a grave.

    2.

    You don't love me – don't want to see me?
    Oh damn you, you're so smashing!
    I’ve always sprouted wings to flee,
    but now I can't soar – how crushing.
    Morning fog envelopes my eyes.
    Objects blend and leak faces.
    And there's only that red tulip in sight,
    that stupid tulip in your jacket's flap.
    3.
    As simple etiquette dictates,
    his coquettish smirk approached me,
    half tenderly, half casually
    and kissed my hand so lightly.
    Ancient Pharaoh glances
    enslaved me with their eyes…
    Ten years of breathless anticipation, 
    sleepless nights and anxious cries
    compressed into one quiet word
    weakly uttered in vain.
    While you strolled away silent
    my soul spilled empty clarity again.