For seventeen months I have cried aloud calling you back to… - Anna Akhmatova

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For seventeen months I have cried aloud calling you back to your lair. I hurled myself at the hangman's foot. You are my son, changed into nightmare. Confusion occupies the world, and I am powerless to tell somebody brute from something human, or on what day the word spells, "Kill!"

Anna Akhmatova

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About Anna Akhmatova

Anna Andreevna Gorenko [А́нна Андре́евна Горе́нко] (23 June {11 June O.S.} 1889 - 5 March 1966) was a Russian poet, known primarily by her pen name Anna Akhmatova [А́нна Ахма́това]. Her work was condemned and censored by Soviet authorities and she notably chose not to emigrate, but remained in Russia, acting as witness to the difficulties of living and writing in the shadow of Stalinism.

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Also Known As

Native Name: Анна Андреевна Ахматова • А́нна Андре́евна Ахма́това

Alternative Names: Anna Andreyevna Gorenko • Anna Achmatova • Anna Ahmatova • Anna Gorenko • Anna Andreevna Gorenko • Anna Andreevna Akhmatova • Anna A. Ahmatova

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Additional quotes by Anna Akhmatova

I go forth to seek — To seek and claim the lovely magic garden Where grasses softly sigh and Muses speak.

This woman is sick to her marrow-bone, this woman is utterly alone, with husband dead, with son away in jail. Pray for me. Pray.

Why is it that you still beguile me –
As wind, stone, bird – and all the likes?
Why is that you smile on me –
With sudden summer lightning strikes?

For seventeen months I have cried aloud calling you back to your lair. I hurled myself at the hangman's foot. You are my son, changed into nightmare.… - Anna Akhmatova

About Anna Akhmatova

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Additional quotes by Anna Akhmatova