Saturday, March 11, 2017
Anna Akhmatova––"A Land not mine, Still"––poem
A land not mine, still
By Anna Akhmatova
(1889 - 1966)
English version by Jane Kenyon
A land not mine, still
forever memorable,
the waters of its ocean
chill and fresh.
Sand on the bottom whiter than chalk,
and the air drunk, like wine,
late sun lays bare
the rosy limbs of the pinetrees.
Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me again.
I think the last three lines of this poem are among the most beautiful in all of poetry.
