'How can you bear to view the Neva,'


How can you bear to view the Neva,
How can you bear to cross its bridges? ...
No surprise I'm marked for sadness,
Since that vision of you appeared.
Sharp, the black angels' wings,
Soon, the judgement day;
And raspberry-coloured bonfires blossom
Like roses, in the snow.


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Return to the Anna Akhmatova Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; 'How I loved, and love, to look'

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.