And I grew up in patterned tranquillity,
In the cool nursery of the young century.
And the voice of man was not dear to me,
But the voice of the wind I could understand.
But best of all the silver willow.
And obligingly, it lived
With me all my life; it's weeping branches
Fanned my insomnia with dreams.
And strange!--I outlived it.
There the stump stands; with strange voices
Other willows are conversing
Under our, under those skies.
And I am silent...As if a brother had died.
Willow
Anna Akhmatova
(1)
Poem topics: brother, life, silver, wind, dear, young, silent, understand, century, cool, insomnia, voice, strange, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Willow poem by Anna Akhmatova
Best Poems of Anna Akhmatova