Anna Akhmatova citations
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Anna Akhmatova , née le 11 juin 1889 à Odessa et morte le 5 mars 1966 à Moscou, est le nom de plume d'Anna Andreïevna Gorenko , une des plus importantes poétesses russes du XXe siècle. Égérie des acméistes, surnommée la « reine de la Neva » ou « l'Âme de l'Âge d'Argent », Anna Akhmatova demeure aujourd'hui encore l'une des plus grandes figures de la littérature russe.

L'œuvre d'Akhmatova se compose aussi bien de petits poèmes lyriques, genre qu'elle contribue à renouveler, que de grandes compositions poétiques, comme Requiem, son sombre chef-d'œuvre sur la terreur stalinienne. Les thèmes récurrents de son œuvre sont le temps qui passe, les souvenirs, le destin de la femme créatrice et les difficultés pour vivre et pour écrire dans l'ombre du stalinisme. Wikipedia  

✵ 11. juin 1889 – 5. mars 1966
Anna Akhmatova photo
Anna Akhmatova: 99 citations0 J'aime

Anna Akhmatova: Citations en anglais

“I seem to myself, as in a dream,
An accidental guest in this dreadful body.”

Anna Akhmatova

Source: The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova

“Your voice is wild and simple.
You are untranslatable
Into any one tongue.”

Anna Akhmatova

Source: The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova

“I know beginnings, I know endings too,
and life-in-death, and something else
I'd rather not recall just now.”

Anna Akhmatova

"This Cruel Age has deflected me..." (1944)
Source: The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova

“You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: "she wanted storms.”

Anna Akhmatova

Variante: You will hear thunder and remember me,
and think: she wanted storms...

“Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—
Unless …”

Anna Akhmatova

Translated by Judith Hemschemeyer from Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova (1989)
Requiem; 1935-1940 (1963; 1987), The Sentence
Contexte: Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—
Unless... Summer's ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.

“All has been looted, betrayed, sold;
black death's wing flashed ahead.”

Anna Akhmatova

"Looted" (1921), as translated by Dmitri Obolensky

“The stars of death stood over us.
And Russia, guiltless, beloved, writhed
under the crunch of bloodstained boots,
under the wheels of Black Marias.”

Anna Akhmatova

Stars of death stood
Above us, and innocent Russia
Writhed under bloodstained boots, and
Under the tyres of Black Marias.
Translated by D. M. Thomas
Requiem; 1935-1940 (1963; 1987), Prologue

“A multi-colored crowd streaked about,
and suddenly all was totally changed.
It wasn't the usual city racket.
It came from a strange land.”

Anna Akhmatova

"The First Long Range Artillery Fire On Leningrad," translation by Daniela Gioseffi (1993) http://users.tellurian.net/wisewomensweb/OnPrgudc.html

“The sand as white
as old bones, the pine trees
strangely red where the sun comes down.
I cannot say if it is our love,
or the day, that is ending.”

Anna Akhmatova

Departures (1964), translated by Michael Cuanach http://web.archive.org/20041217155724/members.tripod.com/~Cuanach/anna.html

“I am not one of those who left the land
to the mercy of its enemies.
Their flattery leaves me cold,
my songs are not for them to praise.”

Anna Akhmatova

I am not one of those who left the land..." (1922), translated in Poems of Akhmatova (1973) by Stanley Kunitz and Max Hayward

“Thinking of the sun makes
my heart beat faster — too fast!
What darkness!
From this night winter begins.”

Anna Akhmatova

Variant translations:
Memory of sun fades in my heart
What is this? Darkness? Maybe! —
During the night comes
winter.
"Memory of the Sun" (alternate translation by Paula Goodman)
Thinking Of The Sun (1911)

“Such grief might make the mountain stoop,
reverse the waters where they flow,
but cannot burst these ponderous bolts
that block us from the prison cells
crowded with mortal woe…”

Anna Akhmatova

The mountains bow before this anguish,
The great river does not flow.
In mortal sadness the convicts languish;
The bolts stay frozen.
Translated by D. M. Thomas
Requiem; 1935-1940 (1963; 1987), Dedication

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