Poetry
Anna Akhmatova I’ll be there and weariness will vanish.
I’ll be there and weariness will vanish.
The cold of early morning will please.
There are villages, mysterious and dark โ
Storehouses of immortal labour.
My calm and trusting love
Of that place will never be vanquished.
There’s a drop of Novgorod blood
In me โ a sliver of ice in foaming wine.
And that can never be altered,
It’s un-melted by great heat,
And no matter what I may praise โ
You shine quietly before me.