Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Poetry · Russian Culture · Russian Literature

Anna Akhmatova

Everything is plundered, betrayed, sold, Death’s great black wing scrapes the air, Misery gnaws to the bone. Why then do we not despair? By day, from the surrounding woods, cherries blow summer into town; at night the deep transparent skies glitter with new galaxies. And the miraculous comes so close to the ruined, dirty houses—… Continue reading Anna Akhmatova

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