to slaughter memory

VII

The Verdict

The word landed with a stony thud 

Onto my still-beating breast. 

Nevermind, I was prepared, 

I will manage with the rest.

I have a lot of work to do today; 

I need to slaughter memory, 

Turn my living soul to stone 

Then teach myself to live again…

But how. The hot summer rustles 

Like a carnival outside my window; 

I have long had this premonition 

Of a bright day and a deserted house.

~ Anna Akhmatova

excerpt from Requiem, 

taken from The Complete Poems

with thanks to journal of a nobody

 

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Everything is plundered

.

Everything is plundered, betrayed, sold,

Death's great black wing scrapes the air,

Misery gnaws to the bone.

Why then do we not despair?

By day, from the surrounding woods,

cherries blow summer into town;

at night the deep transparent skies

glitter with new galaxies.

And the miraculous comes so close

to the ruined, dirty houses --

something not known to anyone at all,

but wild in our breast for centuries.

~ Anna Akhmatova

from Poems of Akhmatova
 edited and translated by Stanley Kunitz with Max Hayward

.

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