Sign in with Facebook
Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems Quotes
Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
by
Anna Akhmatova229 ratings, 4.25 average rating, 20 reviews
Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems Quotes
Showing 1-30 of 36
“During the terrible years of the Yekhov terror I spent seventeen months in the prison queues in Leningrad. One day someone ‘identified’ me. Then a woman with lips blue with cold who was standing behind me, and of course had never heard of my name, came out of the numbness which affected us all and whispered in my ear—(we all spoke in whispers there):
‘Could you describe this?’
I said, ‘I can!’
Then something resembling a smile slipped over what had once been her face.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
‘Could you describe this?’
I said, ‘I can!’
Then something resembling a smile slipped over what had once been her face.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“He loved three things
in this life:
Vespers, white peacocks,
And old maps of America,
Didn't love children crying,
Raspberries with tea,
Or feminine hysteria
...And I
was his wife.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
in this life:
Vespers, white peacocks,
And old maps of America,
Didn't love children crying,
Raspberries with tea,
Or feminine hysteria
...And I
was his wife.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“I asked him then: 'What are you after?'
'To be in hell with you,' he said.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
'To be in hell with you,' he said.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“I have much to do:
I must kill my memories
down to the last one,
I must change my soul into stone ,
I must learn to live again.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
I must kill my memories
down to the last one,
I must change my soul into stone ,
I must learn to live again.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“How many poems did I not write?
They hang in the air around me, a weird choir,
And some day
May suffocate me...”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
They hang in the air around me, a weird choir,
And some day
May suffocate me...”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Autumn, whispering through the maples,
Pleaded: 'Die here with me!”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
Pleaded: 'Die here with me!”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“An ordinary woman
Took my unique place
Used my real name
Left me a pseudonym”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Took my unique place
Used my real name
Left me a pseudonym”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Before this grief, mountains must bend down
And rivers stop,
But prison locks are strong,
And behind them are the labor-camp bunks
And the deadly tedium.
For others the fresh breeze is blowing,
For others the extravagant sun sets —
For us everything is the same, we know nothing,
We hear only the keys and their hateful grinding.
Only the soldiers' stiff steps.
We get up as for early Mass in the city,
The savaged city, and coming
We meet ourselves, the dead, the unbreathing.
The sun is low, the Neva misty,
It is only in the distance that hope is singing.
The sentence . . . and at once tears,
Now everything has been taken,
The rest of life, torn from her heart,
Knocked backwards by a hoodlum
And yet she walks . . . stumbles . . . alone . . .
Where are they now, unwilling friends
Of years in Hell?
What visions do they see in Siberian snow-storms?
What hallucinations in the circle of the moon?
I send them this goodbye and wish them well.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
And rivers stop,
But prison locks are strong,
And behind them are the labor-camp bunks
And the deadly tedium.
For others the fresh breeze is blowing,
For others the extravagant sun sets —
For us everything is the same, we know nothing,
We hear only the keys and their hateful grinding.
Only the soldiers' stiff steps.
We get up as for early Mass in the city,
The savaged city, and coming
We meet ourselves, the dead, the unbreathing.
The sun is low, the Neva misty,
It is only in the distance that hope is singing.
The sentence . . . and at once tears,
Now everything has been taken,
The rest of life, torn from her heart,
Knocked backwards by a hoodlum
And yet she walks . . . stumbles . . . alone . . .
Where are they now, unwilling friends
Of years in Hell?
What visions do they see in Siberian snow-storms?
What hallucinations in the circle of the moon?
I send them this goodbye and wish them well.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Wild honey smells of freedom
The dust - of sunlight
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold - smells of nothing.
Mignonette smells of water
Love smells of apples
And now we know
Blood smells of blood.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
The dust - of sunlight
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold - smells of nothing.
Mignonette smells of water
Love smells of apples
And now we know
Blood smells of blood.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“A fairy tale from the terrible past,
My double goes to the interrogation,
And then comes from the interrogation,”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
My double goes to the interrogation,
And then comes from the interrogation,”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“And so the decades file by, torture,
Deportations, executions. Sing —
You see...
I can't”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Deportations, executions. Sing —
You see...
I can't”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“You will not live again.
You will not rise from the snow
Twenty-eight holes from the bayonet
Five from the gun.
I have made a shroud for my friend,
Sad cloth.
She loves, loves blood
This Russian earth.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
You will not rise from the snow
Twenty-eight holes from the bayonet
Five from the gun.
I have made a shroud for my friend,
Sad cloth.
She loves, loves blood
This Russian earth.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Oh, quantos espetáculos perdi,
quantas vezes o pano ergueu-se
e caiu sem mim. Quantos de meus amigos
nunca encontrei uma só vez em toda a minha vida, (...)”
― Antologia Poética
quantas vezes o pano ergueu-se
e caiu sem mim. Quantos de meus amigos
nunca encontrei uma só vez em toda a minha vida, (...)”
― Antologia Poética
“And just how many city skylines
Could have evoked my tears,
But I know just one city in the world,
And I can find it, blindfolded, in a dream.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
Could have evoked my tears,
But I know just one city in the world,
And I can find it, blindfolded, in a dream.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“Thus I live, without singing at all.
Neither sky nor earth is for me.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
Neither sky nor earth is for me.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“I didn’t want this kind of death,
The time-frame that I chose was different.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
The time-frame that I chose was different.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“There are such days before the spring:
When meadows rest beneath the snow,
And dry and cheerful branches swing
When gentle warm winds blow.
You marvel at your body’s lightness
And do not recognize your home,
And sing again with new excitement
The song that once seemed tiresome.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
When meadows rest beneath the snow,
And dry and cheerful branches swing
When gentle warm winds blow.
You marvel at your body’s lightness
And do not recognize your home,
And sing again with new excitement
The song that once seemed tiresome.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“The earthly glory is like smoke,
I wanted much more than this.
In all my lovers I evoked
The feelings of joy and bliss.
One is still in love somewhere
With a friend from long ago,
The other stands in the city square,-
A statue of bronze in the snow.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
I wanted much more than this.
In all my lovers I evoked
The feelings of joy and bliss.
One is still in love somewhere
With a friend from long ago,
The other stands in the city square,-
A statue of bronze in the snow.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
“And if you knew from what scraps
Poems are born — without shame
Like yellow dandelions by a wormy fence,
Like wild spinach or the common burr.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Poems are born — without shame
Like yellow dandelions by a wormy fence,
Like wild spinach or the common burr.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Cold clouds of incense
Hide the height of the sky,
A burst of wind and everything opens.
We understand. The drama is over,
This is not the third autumn.
This is death.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Hide the height of the sky,
A burst of wind and everything opens.
We understand. The drama is over,
This is not the third autumn.
This is death.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“A happy phrase — "at home " —
And now unknown to anyone,
Everybody looks through another man's windows.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
And now unknown to anyone,
Everybody looks through another man's windows.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“That old Cagliostro does weird things,
He's a most elegant devil ,
But he won't cry with me over death
And he doesn't know what conscience is.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
He's a most elegant devil ,
But he won't cry with me over death
And he doesn't know what conscience is.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“The poet has to die many times,
Foolish child: he himself chose this way -
He couldn't bear the first outrage,
He didn't know at what door he stood,
He didn't understand what kind of road
Would open up before him...”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Foolish child: he himself chose this way -
He couldn't bear the first outrage,
He didn't know at what door he stood,
He didn't understand what kind of road
Would open up before him...”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“As in the past the future is maturing,
So the past is rotting in the future
A terrible carnival of dead leaves.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
So the past is rotting in the future
A terrible carnival of dead leaves.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Already madness trails its wing
Decisively across my mind;
I drink its fiery wine and sink
Into the valley of the blind.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Decisively across my mind;
I drink its fiery wine and sink
Into the valley of the blind.”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Chegam até mim, muitas vezes, rumores tergiversas e absurdos sobre o "Poema Sem Herói". Há quem me aconselhe, até, a tornar o poema mais compreensível.
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scripsi.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scripsi.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Chegam até mim, muitas vezes, rumores tergiversos e absurdos sobre o "Poema Sem Herói". Há quem me aconselhe, até, a tornar o poema mais compreensível.
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scrips.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scrips.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Chegam até mim, muitas vezes, rumores tergiversas e absurdos sobre o "Poema Sem Herói". Há quem me aconselhe, até, a tornar o poema mais compreensível.
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scrips.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
Abstenho-me disso.
O poema não contém quaisquer terceiros, sétimos ou vigésimos nonos sentidos.
Não vou modificá-lo nem explicá-lo.
Quod scripsi, scrips.
Novembro de 1944
Leninegrado”
― Poem Without a Hero & Selected Poems
“Magdalene wept in a furious daze,
The dear disciple stood still, like a stone.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
The dear disciple stood still, like a stone.”
― Final Meeting: Selected Poetry
