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Anna Akhmatova

Anna Akhmatova – In una notte bianca / White night

Federico Rossano (1835-1912), Winter I haven’t locked the door,  nor lit the candles,  you don’t know, don’t care,  that tired I haven’t the strength  to decide to go to bed. Seeing the fields fade in  the sunset murk of pine-needles,  and to know all is lost,  that life is a cursed hell: I’ve got drunk …

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Anna Akhmatova – Ah, tu pensavi che anch’io fossi una / You thought I was that type

Vittorio Matteo Corcos (1859-1933), Girl with yellow shawl You thought I was that type:  that you could forget me,  and that I’d plead and weep  and throw myself under the hooves of a bay mare, or that I’d ask the sorcerers  for some magic potion made from roots and send you a terrible gift:  my …

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Anna Akhmatova – Sotto la scura veletta / Under her dark veil

Thomas Saliot (b. 1968), Winter funfair Under her dark veil she wrung her hands. “Why are you so pale today?” Because I made him drink of stinging grief  until he got drunk on it. How can I forget? He staggered out, his mouth twisted in agony. I ran down not touching the bannister and caught …

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