For many years the subways had a program called "Poetry in Motion". Poems were posted in the cars above the windows. I never really took notice until on one particularly cold day I read the following poem, which I thought was very beautiful. After reading it, I remember closing my eyes and imagining myself riding horseback through the snow of a rural farm.
ALONG THE HARD CREST OF THE SNOWDRIFT
Anna Akhmatova
Along the hard crest of the snowdrift
to my white, mysterious house,
both of us quiet now,
keeping silent as we walk.
And sweeter than any song
this dream we now complete—
the trembling of branches we brush against,
the soft ringing of your spurs.
No comments:
Post a Comment