Crucifix by Anna Akhmatova

Do not cry for me, Mother, seeing me in the grave.

This greatest hour was hallowed and thandered
By angel's choirs; fire melted sky.
He asked his Father:"Why am I abandoned...?"
And told his Mother: "Mother, do not cry..."

Magdalena struggled, cried and moaned.
Peter sank into the stone trance...
Only there, where Mother stood alone,
None has dared cast a single glance.

by Anna Akhmatova

Other poems by 'Anna Akhmatova'

I Don't Know If You're Alive Or Dead

I Wrung My Hands

March Elegy

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The Sentence

Twenty-First. Night. Monday

Under Her Dark Veil

You Thought I Was That Type

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