Poems anna akhmatova. (part 4)

X x x

God is unkind to gardeners and reapers.
Slanted rain coils and falls from up high
And the wide raincoats catch water,
That once had reflected the sky.

In underwater realm are fields and meadows
And the free currents sing a lot,
Plums rupture on bloated branches
And grass strands, lying down, rot.

And through the dense and watery net
I see your darling face,
A quiet park, a round porch
And a Chinese arbour-place.

X x x

All promised him to me:
The heaven’s edge, dark and kind,
And lovely Christmas sleep
And multi-ringing Easter wind,

And the red branches of a twig,
And waterfalls inside a park,
And two dragonflies
On rusty iron of a bulwark.

And I could not disbelieve,
That he’ll befriend me all alone
When on the mountain slopes I went
Along hot pathway made of stone.

X x x

Every evening I receive
A letter like a bride
To my friend I give
Response late at night.

“I’ll be guest of the white death
On my journey down.
You, my tender one, don’t do
Harm to anyone.”

And there stands a giant star
Between two wood beams,
With such calmness promising
To fulfil your dreams.

X x x

Divine angel, who betrothed us
Secretly on winter morn,
From our sadness-free existence
Does not take his darkened eyes.

For this reason we love sky,
And fresh wind, and air so thin,
And the dark tree branches
Behind fence of iron.

For this reason we love the strict,
Many-watered, and dark city,
And we love the parting,
And brief meetings’ hour.

X x x

Somewhere is light and happy, in elation,
Transparent, warm and simple life there is.
A man across the fence has conversation
With girl before the evening, and the bees
Hear only the tenderest of conversation.

And we are living pompously and hard
And follow bitter rituals like sun
When, flight past us, the unreasoned wind
Interrupts speech that’s barely begun.

But not for anything will we change the pompous
Granite city of glory, pain and lies,
The glistening wide rivers’ ice
Sunless and murky gardens, and the voice,
Though barely audible, of the Muse.

X x x

I remember you only rarely
And your fate I do not view
But the mark won’t be stripped from my soul
Of the meaningless meeting with you.

Your red house I avoid on purpose,
Your red house murky river beside,
But I know, that I am disturbing
Gravely your heart-pierced respite.

Would it weren’t you that, on to my lips pressing,
Prayed of love, and for love did wish,
Would it weren’t you that with golden verses
Immortalized my anguish

Over future I do secret magic
If the evening is truly blue,
And I divine a second meeting,
Unavoidable meeting with you.

X x x

How spacious are these squares,
How resonant bridges and stark!
Heavy, peaceful, and starless
Is the covering of the dark.

And we walk on the fresh snow
As if we were mortal people.
That we are together this hour
Unseparable – is it not a miracle?

The knees go unwittingly weaker
It seems there’s no air – so long!
You are my life’s only blessing,
You are the sun of my song.

Now the dark buildings are stirring
And I’ll fall on earth as they shake –
Inside of my village garden
I do not fear to awake.

Escape

“My dear, if we could only
Reach all the way to the seas”
“Be quiet” and descended the stairs
Losing breath and looking for keys.

Past the buildings, where sometime
We danced and had fun and drank wine



my home town мой родной город
Poems anna akhmatova. (part 4)