Comments about Anna Akhmatova
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some_dumb_ho: and her swift legs rooted to the ground.
Who will grieve for this woman? Does she not seem
too insignificant for our concern?
Yet in my heart I never will deny her,
who suffered death because she chose to turn.
--Anna Akhmatova
tenshi_anna: I find it really weird & ironic that the Russian "writers of the feminine" that Cixous obsesses over were effectively aristocratic reactionaries (thinking of Akhmatova & particularly Tsvetaeva, who was a virulent tsarist).
belle_joyeux: That entire tweet screams "Writing Seminar hack."
The embodiment of some minor local poet in provincial Ryazan critiquing Anna Akhmatova...
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
JohnSte40163279: We aged a hundred years, and this
Happened in a single hour:
The short summer had already died,
The body of the ploughed plains smoked.
- Anna Akhmatova
Number__47__: "You will hear thunder and remember me, and think — she wanted storms."
— Anna Akhmatova
Maria M. Photography
( Quoted by the photographer herself )
john_Galt95: Bonne journée à tous! Again Anna Akhmatova, please indulge me with this. Can you understand? our suffering and indignation? Can you understand why she wrote those lines? If you do, then you will know. She will describe our pain, her words are ours. That is what I love about her
Woodywoman: “The morning is drunk with the sun in spring
and the terrace smells thick of roses
the sky, then, shines brighter than a blue pottery"
Anna Akhmatova
Dibrouillard: This life is beautiful
Heart, just be wise.
— Anna Akhmatova
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
ThomasBelfield: If you only knew what kind of trash
Poems shamelessly grow in:
Like weeds under the fence,
Like crabgrass, dandelions.
An angry shout, the smell of fresh tar,
Mysterious mildew on the wall-
And a poem begins sounding fervent, tender,
Making us all joyful.
- Anna Akhmatova
Frank_Hudson: Like a White Stone
angatia46719539: And in the depths of music, I didn’t find the answer,And again there was silence, and again the ghost of summer.,Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova,music, silence, summer,
RoseMutinda1212: Why is it that you still beguile me –As wind, stone, bird – and all the likes? Why is that you smile on me – With sudden summer lightning strikes?,Anna Akhmatova, White Flock,attraction, poetry,
ainatahir1: I defend not my voice,but my silence.
-Anna akhmatova
acephaliccc: “But longing has drunk my blood.”
— Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems
fromthatcity: I defend not my voice, but my silence. - Anna Akhmatova
3abersabeel1970: "Human voices did not touch me,
it was the wind whose words I heard."
- Anna Akhmatova
cyberalgo: “It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace.”
—Anna Akhmatova
FelwaAlhudaithy: “You breathe by the sun, I breathe by the moon.”
Anna Akhmatova, We will not drink; The Complete Poems: Vol. I
se_lyall: Teaching Anna Akhmatova in my Poetry class next week.
All is for you: the daily prayer,
The sleepless heat at night,
And of my verses, the white
Flock, and of my eyes, the blue fire.
from 'Flight'
BrahoAlisa: See, we were never about butterflies. We’ve always been about burning stars. All about us is unearthly and radiant.”
― Anna Akhmatova
bonesivybreath: Whose soul can compare with my soul, if joy and fear are in my heart? — Anna Akhmatova, Celebrate
thejotting: You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms...
Anna Akhmatova
thejotting: 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; poetry.
Sheer enchantment, fear, humiliation.
It all comes with love
Anna Akhmatova, The Akhmatova Journals
BreakOutKing7: I don’t speak to anyone for a week
I just sit on a stone by the sea
The whole time I was hoping my silence would fit yours
and exclamation marks would gently float across time .
- Anna Akhmatova
doctor_156: 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,
aquotebot: "I don't speak to anyone for a week. I just sit on a stone by the sea." –Anna Akhmatova
doctor_156: If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly, and my low spirits would brighten up.
Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems
deannamascle: [Like a white stone] by Anna Akhmatova - Poems | Academy of American Poets
poemakontsa: Most poignant elegy to Russian poet Anna Akhmatova I have bumped into.
Akhmatova
Deborah Digges
So it had to be -
she dosed the muse in kerosene, set her afire,
burned down the house of poetry.
It was a common kitchen stove.
She may have taken comfort in the warmth.
poemakontsa: Late American poet Deborah Digges has written, I just found out, one of the most delicate poems on Anna Akhmatova.
Of all the elegies to Akhmatova I have read throughout the years, none has made me tear up as much...
avuntusaati: “Each of our lives is a Shakespearean drama raised to the thousandth degree.” — Anna Akhmatova
lacancircle: Fine poets do psychoanalysis:
“I seem to myself, as in a dream, an accidental guest in this dreadful body.”
Anna Andreyevna Gorenko, aka Anna Akhmatova, 1952
HarthouseJames: [Like a white stone] by Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966)
On the workings of sorrow and memory . . .
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
Cadetiqui4320: I’m happy. But some beauty is nonesuch - The gently sloping path across the wood, The wretched bridge that’s just a little skewed And that, for which, I won’t be waiting much.,Anna Akhmatova, White Flock,poetry,
StreetsofC: "You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms..."
— Anna Akhmatova
Women of Chicago. 2023
Maraaaks: "I know a woman, full of silence, Her bitter weariness of words, They live in mysterious fluttering eyelids, secret worlds,
Her soul is greedily wide open
For life..."
Nikolai Gumilev, "She is", the first husband of Anna Akhmatova
JosiahWaldrup7: All's taken away: my love and my power.The body, thrown into city it hates,Finds no joy in the sunlight. With every hourThe blood grows colder in my veins.,Anna Akhmatova,lost, poetry-quotes, sadness,
_ui1422: Somewhere there is a simple life
And a word transparent,
Warm and joyful.
Anna Akhmatova
direktrsharte: and if I die, then who will write my poems to you?
— a line from the complete poems of Anna Akhmatova
_ui1422: Somewhere there is a simple life ..
And a world transparent,
Warm and joyful.
Anna Akhmatova
Sosaxe4378: In those years only the dead smiled, Glad to be at rest: And Leningrad city swayed like A needless appendix to its prisons.,Anna Akhmatova, Anna Akhmatova,leningrad, prison,
aquino1_neil: My bedtime reading lately has been poems by Anna Akhmatova from Russia who lived 1889–1966. Here is some information about her—
zarandillo: “Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again.”
Anna Akhmatova
zarandillo: “Somewhere there is a simple life and a world,
Transparent, warm and joyful.”
Anna Akhmatova
MichelleU_Wood: Anna Akhmatova is regarded as one of Russia’s greatest poets.
I only learned of her today so thought I’d share her with you too.
zarandillo: “You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms...”
15-year-old Anna Akhmatova in 1904.
zarandillo: “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.
_ui1422: Real tenderness can’t be confused,
It’s quiet and can’t be heard.
Anna Akhmatova
sxintofme: anna akhmatova once said:
ㅤㅤ❛ You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms.
ㅤㅤ❛ Call me a sinner,
Mock me maliciously:
I was your insomnia,
I was your grief.
ㅤㅤ❛ I defend
Not my voice, but my silence.
SofiaJoubert: .
.
"Real tenderness can't be confused,
It's quiet and can't be heard."
- Anna Akhmatova
died on March 5, 1966
SofiaJoubert: .
.
"Human voices did not touch me,
it was the wind whose words I heard."
- Anna Akhmatova
died on March 5, 1966
fouckenshellby: ‘... 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, The Verdict
matthewjdowd: RIP Ukrainian poet Anna Akhmatova, passed this day 1966.
“You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms...”
“Wild honey smells of freedom
The dust - of sunlight
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold - smells of nothing.”
MomiraMonika: This life is beautiful
heart, be wise ~
you are utterly tired
you beat calmer, duller ...
you know, I read
that souls are immorrtal ~
Anna Akhmatova ~ 23.6.1889-5.3.1966
Foto: NinaAltentaller
InadeBree: ‘If you were music, I would listen to you ceaselessly,
And my low spirits would brighten up.’
Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems
LiteraryVienna: „You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.“
Anna Akhmatova
HossainNilofar: “Somewhere there is a simple life and a world,
Transparent, warm and joyful.”
― Anna Akhmatova
© Heather Hanrahan
InadeBree: ‘I don’t speak to anyone for a week.
I just sit on a stone by the sea.
The whole time I was hoping my silence would fit yours
and exclamation marks would gently float across time …’
Anna Akhmatova
Léon Spilliaert, La baigneuse, 1910
HossainNilofar: “Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again.”
― Anna Akhmatova
Joanna Maher Photography
bonesivybreath: Not in vain am I known as the grieving one Since the time you appeared to me. — Anna Akhmatova, How can you bear to look at the Neva?
Ineya18: Lanterns lit early
Hanging balls gnash.
Everything is festive,
everything is brighter
Snowflakes, flying, shine.
(...)
1919
Anna Akhmatova. excerpt from a poem "Ghost".
my photo
Tina69911364: "Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again."
Anna Akhmatova
sapovskaya: ... the limits of the world.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
Ineya18: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova
~
Love of all will sooner become mortal dust,
Pride will be humbled and flattery will be silenced.
Despair, seasoned with fear,
It is almost impossible to bear.
~
Joan Kocak
MomiraMonika: It's not on the asphalt where the leaves fall
you should wait for me..
it's in an Adagio of Vivaldi - Anna Akhmatova
divingforperils: Nothing chains a heart to heart,
If you'd like to leave.
Many joys will life impart
On the one who's free.
Anna Akhmatova. from Heart to Heart. 1911.
Died on this day 1966.
Transl. by Andrey Kneller.
CelizMurray: from, From a Burnt Notebook (Wild Roses in Bloom) by Anna Akhmatova, trans. by Donald Mager at Interim Poetics:
bonesivybreath: Everything's looted, betrayed and traded, black death's wing's overhead. — Anna Akhmatova, Everything
LongsandsNews: DEPARTMENT OF THE WEEK - History
Mr Willis has been teaching Soviet era poetry by the poet Anna Akhmatova who didn't always get on with the Soviet regime.
Students need to know about art and culture during the period 1855-1964 for the history side of their A Level Russian course.
HossainNilofar: “True tenderness is silent
and can't be mistaken for anything else.”
― Anna Akhmatova
© Sally Mann
DOST0EVSKI: keeping notifications on that one anna akhmatova post i put on tumblr bc the tags ppl leave on it are so good actually
chaloelikesthis: "Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again.”
-Anna Akhmatova
ALEXANDRIASEA18: Found on Internet and shared here. [POEM] "In a dream" by Anna Akhmatova
serosheydoodles: discovering anna akhmatova might have changed me as a person
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
Vanurtle: “Forgive me that I ignored the sun And that I lived in sorrow.”
— Anna Akhmatova, from “Broad and yellow in the evening light,” in The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova, 1997, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
la_gitane_13: Anna Akhmatova
Courage, 1942
--
And we will preserve you, O great Russian speech,
O Russian great word, we all bear.
We’ll carry you out, clear and free, as a wave,
Give you to our heirs, and from slavery save.
Forever!
ArunKum38053152: No, this isn't me ,
this is someone else who
is suffering .
I wouldn't be able to do it
but let
What's happened
Be veiled in black cloth ,
let the lamp be removed...
And then night .
Anna Akhmatova
loverus8: "He left his soul behind and told me:
It’ll be safer by your side."
- Anna Akhmatova
bonesivybreath: Everything's looted, betrayed and traded, black death's wing's overhead. — Anna Akhmatova, Everything
librarybookbot: ‘You and I / Are like grief and the mountain, / We will not meet / in this world. / But sometimes / will you send across the stars / A sign?’
— anna akhmatova, In a Dream
PoetNotRockStar: “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
Webwight: Woman of the day: Anna Akhmatova (1889–1966), Russian-Ukrainian poet
artemisinfurs: girl-garden, girl-shaped, evening's serenade, bride of the tomb, winter's first snow - knife-deep in autumn's throat, anna akhmatova's "muse of lament", beauty is a slaughterhouse with pearl walls, ophelia's rotten green and lilac
ArunKum38053152: I am not a prophet in any sense ;
My life is a crystal fountain flowing
I never did like singing
Songs to keys clinking in
prison doors .
Anna Akhmatova
wojtysiak22: "I have much to do: I must kill my memories down to the last one, I must change my soul into stone, I must learn to live again."
— Anna Akhmatova, tr. by Lenore Mayhew and William Mcnaughton, from Poem Without A Hero and Selected Poems
Artwork: Nickie Zimov
bonesivybreath: Everything's eaten by hunger, unsated, so why does a light shine ahead? — Anna Akhmatova, Everything
caecilia1003: You will exist, right there.
An eternal suspension within me.
—Anna Akhmatova
©︎Olga Onischenko
aquotebot: "I don't speak to anyone for a week. I just sit on a stone by the sea." –Anna Akhmatova
AlyonaSchatzman: "I'm praying to the window ray..."
by Anna Akhmatova
AlyonaSchatzman: I know beginnings, I know endings too,
and life-in-death, and something else
I'd rather not recall just now.
- Anna Akhmatova
MatyldaStein: Don't give me anything to remember you by:
I know how short is memory.
-Anna Akhmatova
/ Ellen Rogers
kling66czjua: Anna of All the Russias: A Life of Anna Akhmatova TWV6NIU
BorisDralyuk: The choice of the Vinnytsia-born Nathan Altman’s 1914 portrait of the Odesa-born Anna Akhmatova for the cover must have been kismet. Years ago Margo Shohl Rosen and I translated AA’s lines about her sessions in NA’s garret, from “Epic Motifs” (1914-1916):
BurlHorniachek: 1/ "Lot's Wife" by Anna Akhmatova, translated by Lyn Coffin. From Anna Akhmatova: Poems (Norton, 1983). (Four more versions follow.)
robertsnickc: “It is unbearably painful for the soul to love silently.”
~ Anna Akhmatova, 1889-1966
[Alekos Fassianos, 1935-2022]