Anna Akhmatova - Rosary: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova

Rosary Poetry of Anna Akhmatova Translated by Andrey Kneller
Copyrigh t Kneller, Boston, 2013 All rights reserved

Table of Contents Confusion II III IV Verses about Petersburg Poems added to later editions Part I I ,
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1913 Confusion I The burning light was stifling,
His glances like the rays.
I only shuddered slightly:
This one can tame my ways.
Hell lean in, speaking, brazen
Im pale out of fright.
Let love become the gravestone
That lies upon my life. 1913 II , ?
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. 1913 II Dont love me or wish to see me? So handsome, but cursed and aloof! Im unable to fly up freely, Even though I was wing d since youth. The fog fills my eyes with clouds, Things and faces are fused, all in all, Just a single small tulip stands out, Red from your buttonhole. 1913 II I You approached me , smiling mildly, As by civilitys demand, Then half tenderly and half idly, With a kiss you brushed my hand And the faces, mysterious, ancient, Cast their gazes on me forthright All ten years of my trepidations, Each and every sleepless night , I placed them all in a quiet word And I voiced it in vain, unsure. 1913 II I You approached me , smiling mildly, As by civilitys demand, Then half tenderly and half idly, With a kiss you brushed my hand And the faces, mysterious, ancient, Cast their gazes on me forthright All ten years of my trepidations, Each and every sleepless night , I placed them all in a quiet word And I voiced it in vain, unsure.

You walked off and with order restored, My soul was empty and pure. 1913 .
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. 1913 Outing The feather grazed the carriage roof. I looked into his eyes. The heart was aching, yet aloof As to the reason why. Up high, the windless night was wedged, Grief filled it to the brink, Bois de Boulogne seemed like a sketch Drawn out in India ink.

Lilacs and petrol mixed their scents, Alert and silent, I felt ready And as he touched my knees again, His hand was almost steady. 1913 . . : " !" . . . : " - ". 1913 In the evening With sadness words cannot describe, Out in the garden, music played. 1913 In the evening With sadness words cannot describe, Out in the garden, music played.

The frozen oysters on the plate Smelled pungently of sea and brine. He gently touched my evening dress And said: I am a loyal friend! And yet the contact of his hand Felt nothing like a true caress. T hus one might pet a cat, a bird Or watch a slender circus rider Beneath his golden lashes, hiding Amusement, happiness and mirth. And as the smoke diffuses idly, The doleful fiddles sing above it: O, thank the Heavens - finally First time alone with your beloved. 1913 *** , , ! . , . : , ? . , ! ? , , . 1 1913 *** We are all heavy-drinkers and whores, What a joyless, miserable crowd! There are flowers and birds on the walls And the birds all pine for a cloud. 1 1913 *** We are all heavy-drinkers and whores, What a joyless, miserable crowd! There are flowers and birds on the walls And the birds all pine for a cloud.

You are smoking your old black pipe And the smoke looks strange over it. The skirt that Im wearing feels tight, But I hope that it makes me look fit. Whats the weather - thunder or ice? Here, the windows are all boarded shut. I examine your face and your eyes Have the look of a sly cautious cat.
Oh, what sadness Im feeling inside! Am I waiting for deaths solemn bell? And the one who is dancing tonight, She will surely end up in hell. 1914 *** After the wind and the frost in the yard, It was nice to have the fire warm me. 1914 *** After the wind and the frost in the yard, It was nice to have the fire warm me.

But Ive failed to watch my heart And here i t was taken from me. The lavish New Years party wont adjourn, Moist stems of roses catch the eyes, But, in my chest, one can no more discern The trembling dragonflies. Oh, Ive spotted the thief in the room, Ive identified him by his eyes. But Im frightened that soon, so soon, He himself will return the prize. January 1914 ***
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. 1913 *** By the staircase, outside, No one greeted me. 1913 *** By the staircase, outside, No one greeted me.

On my own, In the moons unfaithful light, I entered the quiet home. Beneath the lamps green halo, With a lifeless smile, He whispered, Cinderella, You r voice is so full of guile... The hearth is fading to embers, The crickets pester anew. Oh, someone, as a memento, Took away my little white shoe. And gave me three carnations. Without lifting his eyes.

Oh, evidence sweet sensations, How can I keep you disguised? And my heart is wrung in defeat, Understanding that soon, anew, He will measure all other feet With my little white shoe. 1913 ***
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. 1912 *** The eyes beg helplessly and dearly For mercy. Can I ease their pain As someone is uttering near me His short and resounding name? I cross the fi eld along the trail, Where silver timber logs are piled. Down here the gentle gusts prevail, As in the springtime, fresh and wild.

My heart, in torment, is receiving The secret news with disbelief. I know that hes a live, hes breathing, He dares to feel no sense of grief. 1912 ***
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? 1913, *** Imagination with submission Depicts those cold grey eyes to me. In Tvers seclusion, I envision And think about you bitterly. A beautys captive, you are merry There on the Nevas distant shore. My prominent contemporary, You got what youve been asking for, You ordered me: do not delay, Go kill your love, we cannot wait now! And here, weak-willed, I melt away, Meanwhile anguish grows yet greater.

And if I die, who will compose My poetry to you, I wonder, Is there another who could cause The still unspoken words to thunder? 1913, Slepnevo -, ,
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! 26 1911 Fragment In the gloom of the trees, hidden from view, Someone rustled the leaves and begun: What has your lover done to you, What has your lover done; Your eyelids are heavy as if outlined In India Ink, dark and gruff. In stifling torment , he left you behind In the hands of the poisoner-love. You no longer count the stabs of the needle - And your breast cannot be revived, Its in vain that you try to always act gleeful - You are better off buried alive!... I told the offender: Youre cunning and shady, A devil with no sense of shame. Hes quiet, hes gentle, and always obeys me, And loves me, always the same! December 26, 1911 *** , . , ! 1913 *** Real tenderness cant be confused, Its qu iet and cant be heard. , ! 1913 *** Real tenderness cant be confused, Its qu iet and cant be heard.

Dont bother, theres really no use In wrapping my shoulders with fur. In vain you whisper sweet lies Of falling under loves spell, Your stubborn and hungry eyes - Im afraid, I know them too well! 1913 ***
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, ! 1913 *** We will not drink from the same cup - Neither water nor sweet wine is ours, We will not kiss as the sun goes up Or gaze at the night, on the sill for hours. I breathe by the moon, you by the sun , But the love that keeps us alive is one. My loyal friend is constantly with me, Your merry girlfriend is with you, likewise, But youre the reason for my misery, I recognize the fear in your grey eyes. Our evanescent meetings have decreased. Thus we are fated to preserve our peace.

But in my verse, your voice is singing clear And in your verse, my breath is always sighing, O, there exists a fire thats undying, Beyond the reach of distances and fear. And if you only knew just how transfixed I am now by your dry and rosy lips! Autumn 1913 *** : , . . , , , . , . 1913 *** Theres a smile I make, just like so: Barely moving my lips, just enough.

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