Memory of Sun
Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
Grass grows yellower.
Faintly if at all the early snowflakes
Hover, hover.
Water becoming ice is slowing in
The narrow channels.
Nothing at all will happen here again,
Will ever happen.
Against the sky the willow spreads a fan
The silk’s torn off.
Maybe it’s better I did not become
Your wife.
Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
What is it? — Dark?
Perhaps! Winter will have occupied us
In the night.
Anna Akhmatova
The Literate Kitten 
Oh, oh – this is beautiful! Thanks for sharing it!h
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What a beautiful poem. I was especially taken with the line “Maybe it’s better I did not become/Your wife.” It came as such a shock after the lovely but painful images being drawn.
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Ah so this is Akhmatova! Thank you for posting this, LK. I’d heard a lot about her poetry without ever finding an example of it.
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Wow! What an incredible poem. I wasn’t familiar with this poem. I really need to get my hands on a volume or two of Akhmatova’s poetry. Thanks for sharing this poem.
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Ah….which collection is this poem from? Inspired to go check her out from the library.
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“Memory of the sun seeps from the heart” I love that line. A lovely poem.
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Isn’t she wonderful? I have a bio of her that is on my TBR list (what a deal…bought it for a quarter at an annual bookstore sale!)
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I fell in love with Anna Akhmatova in school, during the Russian Literature class. I’m thankful that I can read and speak Russian, because nothing compares to reading her poems in Russian. When translated, part of the meaning is lost.p.s. I actually have a similar last name – Akhmetova, I was really excited about it when I was little
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