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 ...
Under her dark veil she wrung her hands. "Why are you so pale today?" "Because I made him drink of ...
I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . . "Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?" -- Because ...
Not under foreign skies Nor under foreign wings protected - I shared all this with my own people There, where ...
I don't know if you're alive or dead. Can you on earth be sought, Or only when the sunsets fade ...
God-Full-of-Mercy, the prayer for the dead. If God was not full of mercy, Mercy would have been in the world, ...
All night the army came up from Gilgal To get to the killing field, and that's all. In the ground, ...
You mustn't show weakness and you've got to have a tan. But sometimes I feel like the thin veils of ...
I don't Know if history repeats itself But I do know that you don't. I remember that city was didvided ...
The world is full of women who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself if they had the chance. ...
More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, including you, ...
This is a word we use to plug holes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, ...
This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men ...
Some clichty folks don't know the facts, posin' and preenin' and puttin' on acts, stretchin' their backs. They move into ...
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy HANDS bunched on layered hips Where bones idle under years of fatback And lima ...
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is ...
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when ...
Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel With these dear chains, they don't demean. The nightingale embushed in laurel, The sylvan ...
With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does ...
Start where you stand and never mind the past, The past won't help you in beginning new, If you have ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories