Russian Poetry of the Silver Age in Translation

Translated by Yelena Posina

Home
St. Petersburg
Moscow
Contacts

ANNA AKHMATOVA

All week long, not a word – I’m sitting alone
Weak is my voice, - my will not weakened, though
Walking over a crisp crest of snow
This Fence is Cast in Iron
The Muse
From the cycle: "Requiem"
The Grey-Eyed King
Oh yes, my door I left unlatched
I’m worshiping a ray of sun
In the Evening
It often starts with uninvited languor
Black and winding lay the road
We won't be drinking from the same glass
Creation

OSIP MANDELSHTAM

Untitled /Often referred to as "The Stalin Epigram"/
Oh, let me, let me fly
No need to talk, - there isn’t much to say
I'm in this body – it's a gift for me
Don't ask for words: they're vain

ANNA AKHMATOVA

OSIP MANDELSHTAM

Русская поэзия Серебряного Века в переводах
Елены Позиной