Janeiro 08 2009

 

And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.

Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again--

Unless . . . Summer's ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I've foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.

 

                                    Anna Akhmatova, translated from the Russian by Judith Hemschemeyer.

publicado por contrariadora às 19:38

Janeiro 2009
Dom
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Sab

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