'A string of little beads at my neck,'

by


A string of little beads at my neck,
In a broad muff I hide my hands,
The eyes stare vacantly,
They never shed a tear.

And the face appears pale,
Against the lavender silk,
My straight bangs
Almost reach my eyebrows.

And how dissimilar to flight
Is my halting step,
As if it were a raft beneath my feet,
Not these wooden parquet squares.

And the pale lips are slightly parted,
The breathing laboured and uneven,
And over my heart tremble
The flowers of a non-existent meeting.


6.5

facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest


Add 'A string of little beads at my neck,' to your library.

Return to the Anna Akhmatova library , or . . . Read the next poem; At Tsarskoye Selo

© 2022 AmericanLiterature.com