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Poem2Poem: I taught myself to live simply and wisely, / to look at the sky and pray to God, - Anna Akhmatova

jakobgotplayed: “Oh heavy hear how long before the tolling bell? But that one dancing there will surely rot in hell!” You can’t tell me Anna Akhmatova wouldn’t have ran the battle rap circuit

amaranthine05: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. —Anna Akhmatova

ArunKum38053152: I defend Not my voice ,but my silence . Anna Akhmatova

MLC_Research: "Forgive me, that I manage badly, Manage badly but live gloriously, That I leave traces of myself in my songs, That I appeared to you in waking dreams." Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966) was a Russian poet known for her distinct and unflinching works about life in the Soviet Union.

goodnatureart: I've learned to live simply, wisely by Anna Akhmatova

ConradkBarwa: "...the damp of an October day, became sweeter than the softness of May." Selected Poems; “Don’t Frighten Me,” c. October 1959, Anna Akhmatova

eternalblisss__: I saw him very rarely, just a few times. But he wrote to me during the whole winter. I remember some sentences from his letter. One was: ‘Vous êtes en moi comme une hantise’ (you are in me like an obsession). — Anna Akhmatova

McCurryStudios: “Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life.” -Anna Akhmatova, poet Grand Canal. Venice, Italy, 2021.

Traluk: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. —Anna Akhmatova

Ubermenscchh: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. —Anna Akhmatova

magistrabeck: The heart's memory of the sun grows faint What's this? Darkness? It could be!...One night brings winter's first Hard freeze. -Anna Akhmatova (tr. J. Hemschemeyer)

hianaytmen: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. Anna Akhmatova

ZeeshanJaanam: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. —Anna Akhmatova

avuntusaati: How is this century worse than those which went before? Anna Akhmatova, translated by Graeme Davis.

ValenciaMarelys: "Like a burden henceforth unnecessary,/ The shadows of passion and songs vanished from my memory.” -Anna Akhmatova

OtherThingss1: "Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life." -Anna Akhmatova

alolikadutt: It seemed that there were many steps —I knew there were only three. An autumn whisper between the maples Kept urging: 'Die with me.’ — Song of the Last Meeting, Anna Akhmatova (trans. D. M. Thomas)

sadalibi: "just send me word - at midnight sometime through the stars" -Anna akhmatova

NotoriousCONRAD: “I am in the middle of it: chaos and poetry; poetry and love and again, complete chaos. Pain, disorder, occasional clarity; and at the bottom of it all: only love. Sheer enchantment, fear, humiliation. It all comes with love.” - Anna Akhmatova

alolikadutt: Upon the hard crest of a snow-drift We tread, and grown quiet, we walk On towards my house, white, enchanted; Our mood is too tender for talk. Anna Akhmatova, Amedeo Modigliani, 1911.

alolikadutt: And sweeter than music, this dream now Come true, the low boughs of the firs That sway as we brush them in passing, The slight silver clink of your spurs. — Snow, Anna Akhmatova

Jopolkadot: “The heart’s memory of the sun grows faint” Anna Akhmatova

Ubermenscchh: “If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly, and my low spirits would brighten up.” ― Anna Akhmatova

RebeccaPapin: Emily Dickinson. Currant wine. Her house. Charles Dickens. Smoking Bishop. A coal-fueled smog. Harper Lee. Lemonade. Monroeville. Anna Akhmatova. Vodka. Odessa. Charles Baudelaire. Absinthe. Paris. Pablo Neruda. Table Wine. Santiago.

goodnatureart: I've learned to live simply, wisely by Anna Akhmatova

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova: ‘Big gray eyes. Sort of like snow leopards…’

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova: 'Big gray eyes. Sort of like snow leopards...'

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova: “She set our souls in motion”

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova: "She set our souls in motion"

volkov6678: Featured Art of the Day: "Anna Akhmatova". Buy it at:

_lil_po: I read couple of poems by Anna Akhmatova, cried, put the book away. thanks, fall, for my whiny mood and thanks me for hypersensitivity! i love my life af!

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova – ‘as if guided by a star ….’

Globalappi: Anna Akhmatova - 'as if guided by a star ....'

IrishLitTimes: In some poems the author is doomed to hear the voice of the violin that once helped her compose, in others the rumble of traincar that stopped her writing them. Poems can have the scent of flowers, smell of plums. In Pushkin I hear the waters of Tsarskoe Selo. — Anna Akhmatova

kashf_rafiq: "An autumn whisper between the maples kept urging: Die with me" - Anna Akhmatova, from Song of the Last Meeting

quotescatradora: what was in our stars that destined us for sorrow? — anna akhmatova

olegbut52: The Anna Akhmatova Museum in St. Petersburg has put its cat Osya on the wanted list. The CCTV camera recorded how an unknown girl took him from the arch leading to the garden of the Fountain House. The publication "Rise" in the museum was informed that she had not yet contacted

SallatoreBaudo: "Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life" Anna Akhmatova

Rubynola82: The pillow hot On both sides, The second candle Dying, the ravens Crying. Haven't Slept all night, too late To dream of sleep... -Anna Akhmatova

outofthecircles: How many poems did I not write? They hang in the air around me, a weird choir, And some day May suffocate me... - Anna Akhmatova, Poem Without a Hero: And Selected Poems

outofthecircles: I, like a river, Have been diverted by the ruthless era. My life was switched. It flows Into another channel, past strange lands, And I no longer recognize my shores. - Anna Akhmatova, Poems of Akhmatova

poemsminwon: But if our eyes should meet- By the heavens I swear to you, Granite would melt in that heat. —Anna Akhmatova, Anno Domini MCMXXI: from ‘MCMXXI’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer

OInscendence: “Forgive me that I felt forsaken, That grief and angst was all I knew. Forgive me that I kept mistaking Too many other men for you.” ― Anna Akhmatova, "White Flock"

Poem2Poem: I taught myself to live simply and wisely, / to look at the sky and pray to God, - Anna Akhmatova

aboredlittleboy: happy national poetry day from me and anna akhmatova

twigofwillow: I'm always inwardly yelling about Anna Akhmatova:

JanieDied01: I love being a little account tweeting out Joan Rivers revivals bleeding out deletes like Anna Akhmatova. I will keep my account as small as possible true e-girl style.

artemisinfurs: when sappho said "someone will remember us, i say, even in another time" and anna akhmatova "just send me word - at midnight sometime through the stars" and marina tsvetaeva "i'm kissing you now — across the gap of a thousand years

ArunKum38053152: You will live without misfortune , You will govern,you will judge, With your quiet partner you will raise your sons... And for us descending into the vale, The altars burn , And our voices soar To God 's very throne . Anna Akhmatova

nnworcester: From Anna Akhmatova's "Requiem," on the Great Purge.

Poem2Poem: I taught myself to live simply and wisely, / to look at the sky and pray to God, - Anna Akhmatova

aliner: The beginning of Anna Akhmatova's "Requiem" as translated by Nancy K. Anderson. An alternate way of thinking about "identity" and "identification", or what the difference between *seeing*, *witnessing*, and *beholding*.

Jopolkadot: “I defend not my voice, but my silence” Anna Akhmatova Photography © Paul Phung

lulupartizan: Poetry Lovers' Page: 'There Are the Words...' by Anna Akhmatova

mugehuray: "You and I are like high Mountains and we can't move closer. Just send me word At midnight sometime through the stars." Anna Akhmatova

lulupartizan: Poetry Lovers' Page: The Grey-Eyed King by Anna Akhmatova

russianpoetsbot: anna akhmatova, from you will hear thunder.

thejottings: 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. Anna Akhmatova, Poem Without a Hero: And Selected Poems

AamirGray2: Tomorrow the mirrors will mock me. Anna Akhmatova

OFidhne: I only have a smile. Like this. A barely visible movement of lips. And I keep it for you: it is a gift of love. ~ Anna Akhmatova (Russian poet)

OFidhne: “It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace.” ~ Anna Akhmatova

OFidhne: “I should be proud to have my memory graced, but only if the monument be placed... here, where I endured three hundred hours in line before the implacable iron bars.” ~ Anna Akhmatova

OFidhne: “All has been looted, betrayed, sold; black death's wing flashed ahead.” ~ Anna Akhmatova

OFidhne: “You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.” ~ Anna Akhmatova

outofthecircles: “I myself, from the very beginning, seemed to myself like someone's dream or delirium or a reflection in someone else's mirror, without flesh, without meaning, without a name. Already I knew the list of crimes that I was destined to commit.” - Anna Akhmatova

reactionlife: This week’s poem by Soviet-era poet, Anna Akhmatova, was written in 1940 and celebrates the natural world. Poem of the Week – Willow by Anna Akhmatova

Poem2Poem: I taught myself to live simply and wisely, / to look at the sky and pray to God, - Anna Akhmatova

DailyArtApp: “You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms...” - Anna Akhmatova | 1914 Nathan Altman

sahaneserseri: Anna Akhmatova and Amedeo Modigliani He would repeat over and over: “We understand one another...” He often said: “You are the only one who can make that happen.”

TaraSkurtu: “I have a lot of work to do today; I need to slaughter memory, Turn my living soul to stone Then teach myself to live again.” —Anna Akhmatova (trans. Judith Hemschemeyer)

sandraquidi: So much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again - The Sentence' by Anna Akhmatova as seen in The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry edited by Ilya Kaminsky & Susan Harris

Rubynola82: I want to visit the roses In that lonely Park where the statues remember me young -Anna Akhmatova Photography: Sheila Metzner, 1986

Jacq_Of_Spades: It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace. -Anna Akhmatova

KiranManral: 'See, we were never about butterflies. We’ve always been about burning stars. All about us is unearthly and radiant.” ― Anna Akhmatova

lerevedelune: I just wanna be her ( an Anna Akhmatova poem)

holland_tom: A copy of Anna Akhmatova’s love poetry, written from memory onto silver birch bark in a labour camp in the 1930s, and given to Akhmatova herself just before her death...

intheWildHills: We had thought we were beggars, with nothing at all, but as loss followed loss and each day became a day of memorial, we began to make songs about the Lord’s generosity and our bygone wealth. ~ Anna Akhmatova

BorisDralyuk: The 11th vol. of “Cardinal Points” features Stephen Capus’s astonishing version of Anna Akhmatova’s “Requiem”: “Unmoved by the glamour of alien skies, By asylum in faraway cities, I Chose to remain with my people: where Catastrophe led them, I was there.”

HourtiongX: PDF Free Anna Akhmatova by Anna Akhmatova Full Book ☛

ZeeshanJaanam: I have sung over so many abysses, And lived in so many mirrors. – Anna Akhmatova

MayaCPopa: Here's a poem for anyone who has delayed departing from their beloved in ingenious ways. “We Don’t Know How To Say Goodbye” by Anna Akhmatova:

Evesdaughter22: “I have a lot of work to do today; I need to slaughter memory, Turn my living soul to stone Then teach myself to live again.” —Anna Akhmatova

loverus8: "Hands, matches, an ashtray. A ritual beautiful and bitter." - Anna Akhmatova

Poem2Poem: I taught myself to live simply and wisely, / to look at the sky and pray to God, - Anna Akhmatova

pereagramunt: Brodsky's mentor, Anna Akhmatova, laughed at the KGB's shortsightedness. "What a biography they're fashioning for our red-haired friend!", she said. "It's as if he'd hired them to do it on purpose."

op109: (Source: golden-autumn, via westvianorthsoutheast) “You are with me once more, Autumn my friend!” — Anna Akhmatova, from The Seventh Book in You Will Hear Thunder (via kxowledge)

paologambi: Take a look at my NFT CryptoPunk Poetry collection. This is Anna Akhmatova

Strannik_REB45: Museum dedicated to Soviet dissident poet Anna Akhmatova cancels lecture by philologist Elena Volkova after city government asks them not to platform... an opponent of the politics of the current Russian government.

thejottings: Call me a sinner, Mock me maliciously: I was your insomnia, I was your grief. Anna Akhmatova

thejottings: Regarding myself as a mere echo, Cave-like, unintelligible and nocturnal . . . Anna Akhmatova

Barbara71991463: “By the river bank the silver willow Touches the bright September waters. Rising from the past, my shadow Comes silently to meet me.” — Anna Akhmatova, from Three Autumns in “Poems: Anna Akhmatova” [translated by D. M. Thomas]

op109: blauestunden “You are with me once more, Autumn my friend!” — Anna Akhmatova, from The Seventh Book in You Will Hear Thunder (oldfarmhouse)

historicwomens: Anna Akhmatova with her husband Nikolay Gumilev and their son, Lev, 1915

asymptotejrnl: Major wars from 1812 to 1941 have backdropped many works of Russian literature. Valeria Paikova traces the interplay of Russian history with writings from the “quintessential Russian writer”—Leo Tolstoy—to “the grand dame of Russian poetry”—Anna Akhmatova:

memoriadelfoc: I have learned how faces fall, How terror can escape from lowered eyes, How suffering can etch cruel pages Of cuneiform-like marks upon the cheeks. Anna Akhmàtova (from Epilogue, 1)

historicwomens: Anna Andreyevna Gorenko, better known by her pen name Anna Akhmatova in 1922 (portrait by Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin). She one of the most significant Russian poets of the 20th century. She was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in 1965, and received second-most nominations for the award.

ZeeshanJaanam: When someone dies, Their portraits change. The eyes gaze at you differently. The lips smile a different smile. I noticed this returning From a certain poet’s funeral. Since then I’ve seen it often, And my theory has proven true. ― Anna Akhmatova

ognji_i_ruze: i can't pick the most beautiful woman ever but man. anna akhmatova.... i can't stop thinking about her.... in love.

PhilipJCollins1: For a long time I've loved the perfect lyric poetry of Anna Akhmatova. And the music and voice of Iris DeMent. Then, on this album, as if made for me, they merged:



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