I’m not weeping, I’m not complaining, Happiness is not for me. - Anna Akhmatova

Έχω σήμερα πολλές δουλειές. Για μέτρα:
πρέπει κάθε μνήμη ευθύς να σκοτωθεί
πρέπει την καρδιά να κάνω πέτρα
πρέπει πάλι τη ζωή να μάθω απ' την αρχή.

Now prisoners will come back home, and two Russias will look each other in the eye,
the one that put in prison and
the one that was put in prison.

I have learned how faces fall to bone, how under the eyelids terror lurks, how suffering inscribes on cheeks the hard lines of its cuneiform texts, how glossy black or ash-fair locks turn overnight to tarnished silver, how smiles fade on submissive lips, and fear quavers in a dry titter. And I pray not for myself alone.. for all who stood outside the jail, in bitter cold or summer's blaze, with me under that blind red wall.