Ashes of Our Time (for Anna Ahkmatova) Revision Options

[RC James]

Ashes of Our Time

(for Anna Akhmatova)

You’ll see my body, ages past,
drawn to itself in strident winds,
at the center of the raging
conflagration we called ours.

When I start down the avenue
lined with our history's truth,
I trust that you will guard with
care the ashes I can't claim.

Survivors, now in different corners unknown, nurse the memories we felt then.
Weather now holds promises, the dank cells held none, only sweat, congealed blood.
When you look at the moon you look into the future we did not have.
Let the moon illuminate your way to sun swept field,
a calm sea welcome you.

Remember metal on metal before we were fully awake
there in the sodden keep, the thud and crunch, threnody
of soldiers’ boots, shouts, and cries of the tortured.

Black Marias careened with their human load, destination death.
We met to console each other, understanding that Russian speech
was our true homeland. Dementia thrived in our suffering.

Only the corpses displayed frozen grins, chains finally unfastened.
Our proud Russia could do nothing but writhe under the jackboots

I am working on the annhiliation of all emotion. I am weaving a dark shawl
to protect our memories. I remember the words you all spoke
behind bars out of desolation, just as I have remembered your faces
and movements peculiar to each of you.

I will remember this forever, even through new sorrows, it will be there,
for me to return to when I want to summon you, my dearest friends;
together you moan and scream through my mind.

Erect my monument not anywhere near the sea nor in Litenyi,
but there in front of the steel doors where I stood
for hundreds of hours and no one slid open the bolt,

where the shrill cries of an old woman still echo through us.
I will welcome the ships coming up the Neva.
The Russian word escaped from captivity will last forever.





(2nd rev.)
I am weaving a dark mantle to protect our memories.
I remember the words you all spoke out of desolation,
just as I have remembered your faces
and movements peculiar to each of you.

I will remember this forever,
even through new sorrows,
it will be there, for me to return to,
when I want to summon you, my dearest friends;
together you moan and scream through my mouth,
I will be remembered in this way.

Erect my monument not anywhere near the sea
nor in Litenyi, but there in front of the steel doors
where I stood for hundreds of hours
and no one slid open the bolt.
Where the shrill almost ecstatic cries of an old woman
still echo through us.

I will welcome the ships coming up the Neva.

The Russian word escaped from captivity will last forever.







You’ll see my body, ages past,
drawn into itself on brittle winds,
at the center of the raging
conflagration we called ours.

When I start down the road
lined with our history's truth,
I trust that you will guard with
care the ashes I can't claim.















Yes, love, time-worn brittle winds
will call to mind the conflagration;
you’ll feel my body, drawn into itself,
raging, as we struggled through.

Then, I’ll walk along the avenue
lined with our history’s truth;
and I trust that you will guard
with care the ashes I can’t claim.










Ashes of Our Time
(for Anna Akhmatova)

In memory you will feel winds
carry my body, drawn into itself,
to the center of the conflagration,
raging, as we struggled through.

When I start down the road
lined with our history's truth,
I trust that you will guard with
care the ashes I can't claim.







(original)

On the brittle winds of memory
you will see my body drawn
into itself where, the conflagration
we were the center of, rages.

When I start down the road
lined with our history's truth,
I trust that you will guard with
care, the ashes I can't claim.

[greenwich]

Perfect the self sacrifice of the poet. Very touching and aware of the pathos of the times.

[Eisa]

Hi Richard

A short one but plenty to think on here. Very touching read.

On the brittle winds of memory
you will see my body drawn
into itself, where the conflagration
we were the center of rages.

L3 doesn't sound quite right. Perhaps

where the in conflagration
we were the center of rages.

When I start down the road
lined with our history's truth,
I trust that you will guard with
care the ashes I can't claim.

I think perhaps a comma after care.

Enjoyed the read
Eira

[RC James]

Eisa - I changed the punctuation on this, thanks, RC

[RC James]

Totally changed the first stanza

[RC James]

Yet again - R

[RC James]

I didn't much like the shortened version, her prolonged suffering over years to me dictates a longer treatment. So, here it is, RC

[RC James]

This is a combination of the much shorter and much longer versions.