90 likes | 104 Views
Explore the life and poetry of Anna Akhmatova, my favorite Russian poet. Discover the advice and tranquility found in her book through her profound and heartfelt poems.
E N D
Project «My favourite Russian poet» Worked by: Natasha Shchukina
My favorite poet is Anna Akhmatova because I can find advice in her book and I feel peace when I read her poems.
Biography Anna Akhmatova(1889-1966)was born at Bolshoy Fontan, near the Black Sea port of Odessa. Her father, Andrey Gorenko, a naval engineer, and her mother, Inna Stogova, were both descended from the Russian nobility. Her family moved north to TsarskoyeSelo, near St. Petersburg when she was eleven months old. She studied at the Mariinskaya High School, moving to Kiev and finished her schooling there, after her parents separated in 1905. She went on to study law at Kiev University, leaving a year later to study literature in St Petersburg. Akhmatova started writing poetry at the age of 11,her sister Inna also wrote poetry.
Her poems Answer The quiet April day has sent meWhat a strange missive.You knew that passionately in meThe scary week is still alive.I did not hear those ringing bellsThat swam along in glazier clear.For seven days sounded copper laughOr poured from eyes a silver tear.And I, then having closed my faceAs for eternal parting's moment,Lay down and waited for her graceThat was not known yet as torment.
Just like a cold noreasterAt first she'll sting,And then a single salty tearThe heart will wring. The evil heart will pitySomething and then regret.But this light-headed sadnessIt will not forget. I only sow. To harvest.Others will come. And yes!The lovely group of harvestersMay true God bless. And that more perfectly I couldGive to you gratitude,Allow me to give the worldLove incorruptible.
The pillow hot On both sides, The second candle Dying, the ravens Crying. Haven't Slept all night, too late To dream of sleep . . . How unbearably white The blind on the white window. Good morning, morning! 1909 (translated by «Poetry»>
Подушка уже горячаС обеих сторон.Вот и вторая свечаГаснет и крик воронСтановится все слышней.Я эту ночь не спала,Поздно думать о сне...Как нестерпимо белаШтора на белом окне.Здравствуй!
Links https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pillow-hot/ http://ocls.kyivlibs.org.ua/ahmatova/perekladi_1/_ru-perekladi_1.htm https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Akhmatova http://scanpoetry.ru/poetry/9831