Akhmatova’s White Stone
September 19th, 2009
Like a white stone in a well’s depths
A single memory remains to me
That I can’t, won’t fight against
It’s happiness – and misery.
I think someone who gazed full
In my eyes, would see it straight
They’d be sad, be thoughtful,
As if hearing a mournful tale
I know the gods changed people
To things, yet left consciousness free,
To keep suffering’s wonder alive still.
In memory, you changed into me
Anna Akhmatova
Photo of girl mummie National Geographic
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Categories: Pictures, Poetry, The Fragment of Dreams | Tags: desire, imagination, Italy, madness, myths, Poetry, The Fragment of Dreams
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