Have some poetry

[butterflykiki]

Because I'm still here and so are you, and April is poetry month, as Celli's post reminded me.

You Thought I Was That Type

You thought I was that type:
That you could forget me,
And that I'd plead and weep
And throw myself under the hooves of a bay mare,

Or that I'd ask the sorcerers
For some magic potion made from roots and send you a terrible gift:
My precious perfumed handkerchief.

Damn you! I will not grant your cursed soul
Vicarious tears or a single glance.

And I swear to you by the garden of the angels,
I swear by the miracle-working icon,
And by the fire and smoke of our nights:
I will never come back to you.

- Anna Akhmatova (1921, translated from Russian)

Comments

[celli]

ooooooh

[butterflykiki]

Isn't that awesome? This is the first poem of hers I stumbled across, and it made me search out the rest. :D

[diannelamerc]

Ooooh!

[butterflykiki]

Isn't it?

How're you doing, hon? Up for a phone or Zoom call later this weekend?

[diannelamerc]

Probably. :) My sleep has been all over the place recently, but I'm sure we can work something out.

Hmmm... maybe I should install Zoom... (or, you know, get a webcam... ;-)