Who is Anna Akhmatova

Anna Andreyevna Gorenko (23 June [O.S. 11 June] 1889 – 5 March 1966), better known by the pen name Anna Akhmatova, was one of the most significant Russian poets of 20th century. She was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in 1965 and received second-most (three) nominations for the award the following year.

Akhmatova's work ranges from short lyric poems to intricately structured cycles, such as Requiem (1935–40), her tragic masterpiece about the Stalinist terror. Her style, characterised by its economy and emotional restraint, was strikingly original and distinctive to her contemporaries. The strong and clear leading female voice struck a new chord in Russian poetry. Her writing can be said to fall into two periods – the early work (1912–25) and her later work (from around 193...
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Anna Akhmatova Poems

  • In Memory Of M. B.
    Here is my gift, not roses on your grave,
    not sticks of burning incense.
    You lived aloof, maintaining to the end
    your magnificent disdain. ...
  • As A White Stone
    As a white stone in the well's cool deepness,
    There lays in me one wonderful remembrance.
    I am not able and don't want to miss this:
    It is my torture and my utter gladness. ...
  • Along The Hard Crust...
    Along the hard crust of deep snows,
    To the secret, white house of yours,
    So gentle and quiet -- we both
    Are walking, in silence half-lost. ...
  • And Pushkin's Exile Had
    And Pushkin's exile had begun right here,
    And Lermontov's expulsion had been "canceled."
    There is the easy grasses' scent on highland.
    And only once it chanced to me to see it -- ...
  • For Osip Mandelstam
    And the town is frozen solid in a vice,
    Trees, walls, snow, beneath a glass.
    Over crystal, on slippery tracks of ice,
    the painted sleighs and I, together, pass. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Anna Akhmatova

Love 17 I Love You 17 Voice 14 Night 14 Light 14 Fire 12 Heart 12 Never 12 Life 12 Bright 12

Anna Akhmatova Quotes

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Comments about Anna Akhmatova

John_galt95: bonne journée à tous! again anna akhmatova, please indulge me with this. can you understand? our suffering and indignation? can you understand why she wrote those lines? if you do, then you will know. she will describe our pain, her words are ours. that is what i love about her
Woodywoman: “the morning is drunk with the sun in spring and the terrace smells thick of roses the sky, then, shines brighter than a blue pottery" anna akhmatova
Dibrouillard: this life is beautiful heart, just be wise. — anna akhmatova
Librarybookbot: ‘you and i / are like grief and the mountain, / we will not meet / in this world. / but sometimes / will you send across the stars / a sign?’ — anna akhmatova, in a dream
Thomasbelfield: if you only knew what kind of trash poems shamelessly grow in: like weeds under the fence, like crabgrass, dandelions. an angry shout, the smell of fresh tar, mysterious mildew on the wall- and a poem begins sounding fervent, tender, making us all joyful. - anna akhmatova
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Poem of the day

Stephen Crane Poem
Love Walked Alone.
 by Stephen Crane

Love walked alone.
The rocks cut her tender feet,
And the brambles tore her fair limbs.
There came a companion to her,
But, alas, he was no help,
For his name was heart's pain. .


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