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Showing posts with label Akhmatova. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Akhmatova. Show all posts

Friday, February 24, 2012

Unsaid


Each Friday we provide the link to the blog that is hosting a celebration of poetry around the blogosphere. At that site you can find the links to the many other blogs that are posting poems (new and old), discussions of poems, and reviews of poetry books.

Enjoy the festivities!

The host this week is MsMac. You can visit her here at Check It Out.


(Grandmother Knits by David Foggie, 1878-
1948, Scots painter)

“I can’t tell if the day is ending, or the world, / or if the secret of secrets is within me again.” ~ Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966), Russian poet

UNSAID

So much of what we live goes on inside —
The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches
Of unacknowledged love are no less real
For having passed unsaid. What we conceal
Is always more than what we dare confide.
Think of the letters that we write our dead.

~ Dana Gioia, born 1950, American poet and critic

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Everything Promised Him to Me


(A Spring Motif, from the St. Petersburg Series, 1904
by Anna Ostroumova-Lebedeva, 1871-1955, Russian
printmaker; image found at thebluelantern)

“For one human being to love another is perhaps the most difficult of our tasks; the ultimate, the last test and proof: the work for which all the other work is but preparation.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926), Austrian poet

EVERYTHING PROMISED HIM TO ME

Everything promised him to me:
the fading amber edge of the sky,
and the sweet dreams of Christmas,
and the wind at Easter, loud with bells,

and the red shoots of the grapevine,
and waterfalls in the park,
and the two large dragonflies
on the rusty iron fencepost.

And I could only believe
that he would be mine
as I walked along the high slopes,
the path of burning stones.

~ Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966), Russian poet