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Give me bitter years of sickness,
Suffocation, insomnia, fever,
Take my child and my lover,
And my mysterious gift of song —
This I pray at your liturgy
After so many tormented days,
So that the stormcloud over darkened Russia
Might become a cloud of glorious rays.

— Anna Akhmatova

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More quotes by Anna Akhmatova

A new epoch has begun. You and I will wait for it together.

Why is this century worse than those others?
Maybe, because, in sadness and alarm,
It only touched the blackest of the ulcers,
But couldn't heal it in its span of time.

Why is this century worse than those others? (1919)

I go forth to seek —
To seek and claim the lovely magic garden
Where grasses softly sigh and Muses speak.

He is no better and no worse,
but he is free of Lethe's curse:
his warm hand makes a human pledge.

Poem without a Hero (1963)

I don't know if you're alive or dead.
Can you on earth be sought,
Or only when the sunsets fade
Be mourned serenely in my thought?

I Don't Know If You're Alive Or Dead (1915)

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Anna Akhmatova (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.