Love
by Anna Akhmatova
A snake, it coils
Bewitching the heart.
Day after day, coos
A dove on the white sill.
A bright flash in frost,
Drowsy night-scented stock…
Yet, sure and secret,
It's far from peace and joy.
It knows how to weep sweetly
In the violin's yearning prayer;
And is fearfully divined
In a stranger's smile.
4
Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add Love to your own personal library.
Add Love to your own personal library.
Return to the Anna Akhmatova Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; 'Memory of sun ebbs from the heart.'
