Information about the poet and poem
Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966) is one of the two greatest women poets in the history of Russian poetry. Akhmatova’s life and work are a striking testimony to the horrors of the 20th century. She survived two wars, a revolution, and the siege of Leningrad, as well as the gradual departure, killing, or arrests of her closest friends and family.
Anna Akhmatova’s early love poetry is highly sensitive, personal and intimate. Being a member of the Acmeists poetic group, that rejected the esoteric vagueness and affectations of Symbolism and sought to replace them with "beautiful clarity," Akhmatova excelled in compactness, simplicity, and perfection of form.
The Original Poem
Смотре́ть на не́бо и моли́ться Бо́гу,
И до́лго перед ве́чером броди́ть,
Чтоб утоми́ть нену́жную трево́гу.
Когда́ шурша́т в овра́ге лопухи́
И ни́кнет гроздь ряби́ны жёлто-кра́сно,
Слага́ю я весёлые стихи́
О жи́зни тле́нной, тле́нной и прекра́сной
Я возвраща́юсь. Ли́жет мне ладо́нь
Пуши́стый кот, мурлы́кает уми́льней,
И яркий загора́ется ого́нь
На ба́шенке озёрной лесопи́льни.
Лишь и́зредка проре́зывает тишь
Крик а́иста, слете́вшего на кры́шу.
И е́сли в дверь мою ты постучи́шь,
Мне ка́жется, я да́же не услы́шу.
To look at the sky and pray to God
And to take long walks before the evening
To tire out unneeded worries.
When burdocks rustle in the ravine
and bunches of yellow-red berries hang
I compose cheerful poems
Of perishing life, perishing and beautiful.
I return. Licking my palm
a fluffy cat purrs sweetly
and a bright light flares
on the turret of the lake sawmill.
Only rarely piercing the silence
the cry of a stork, flown down to the roof.
and if on my door you were to knock
It seems to me, I wouldn't even hear you.
A More "Poetic" Translation
An Audio Link
A Video Link
A Picture to Display
