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This Cruel Age has deflected me.

Anna Akhmatova

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Anna Akhmatova
Age: 76 †
Born: 1889
Born: June 23
Died: 1966
Died: March 5
Author
Literary Critic
Literary Scholar
Poet
Translator
Writer
Odesa
Anna Andreyevna Gorenko
Anna Achmatova
Anna Ahmatova
Anna Gorenko
Anna Andreevna Gorenko
Anna Andreevna Akhmatova
Deflected
Cruel
Age

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Real tenderness can't be confused, It's quiet and can't be heard.
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As the future ripens in the past, so the past rots in the future -- a terrible festival of dead leaves.
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A choir of angels glorified the hour, the vault of heaven was dissolved in fire. Father, why hast Thou forsaken me? Mother, I beg you, do not weep for me.
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Rising from the past, my shadow Is running in silence to meet me.
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Your voice is wild and simple. You are untranslatable Into any one tongue.
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But here, in the murk of conflagration, where scarcely a friend is left to know we, the survivors, do not flinch from anything, not from a single blow. Surely the reckoning will be made after the passing of this cloud. We are the people without tears, straighter than you ... more proud.
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You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.
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We are all carousers and loose women here How unhappy we are together!
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The word dropped like a stone on my still living breast. Confess: I was prepared, am somehow ready for the test.
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We learned not to meet anymore, We don't raise our eyes to one another, But we ourselves won't guarantee What could happen to us in an hour.
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