White Night (Anna Akhmatova Poem)
There will be thunder then. Remember me. Say ' She asked for storms.' The entire world will turn the colour ...
There will be thunder then. Remember me. Say ' She asked for storms.' The entire world will turn the colour ...
There will be thunder then. Remember me. Say ' She asked for storms.' The entire world will turn the colour ...
And the just man trailed God's shining agent, over a black mountain, in his giant track, while a restless voice ...
Memory of sun seeps from the heart. Grass grows yellower. Faintly if at all the early snowflakes Hover, hover. Water ...
Not under foreign skies Nor under foreign wings protected - I shared all this with my own people There, where ...
God-Full-of-Mercy, the prayer for the dead. If God was not full of mercy, Mercy would have been in the world, ...
Not the peace of a cease-fire not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb, but rather as in ...
Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east. Languages are like cats: ...
Once a great love cut my life in two. The first part goes on twisting at some other place like ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples' eyes; 'The old law', they ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here, And ease from shame, and rest from fear. There's nothing can dismarble now ...
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did ...
Hark! ah, the nightingale- The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!-what pain! O wanderer ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease. But one such death remain'd to come; The ...
As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters ...
Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great ...
What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? ...
We were apart; yet, day by day, I bade my heart more constant be. I bade it keep the world ...
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