I loved you, I still love you

  The German poet Heine wrote in one of his lyric poems, “I loved you, and I still love you,” a beautiful verse that seems like a perfect description of Akhmatova’s attachment to Gumilyov . In 1903, the future moon of Russian poetry, Akhmatova, the famous poetess of the Silver Age, also known as Anna at the time, Golinton met Nikolai Gumilev, who would later become her first husband. Although Anna at that time didn’t like this Gumilyov who “looked ugly, tall and thin, with a long face, a garlic nose, a lifeless look, and a proud look”, but what he didn’t expect was this time The chance encounter became the starting point of her lifelong attachment to him.
  Although Akhmatova was indifferent to Gumilev after the first encounter, Gumilev fell in love with the beautiful Akhmatova at first sight. He even attempted suicide several times after unsuccessfully pursuing Akhmatova. In 1907, Akhmatova was disappointed because of Kutuzov’s unrequited love affair, and because of the “grey-eyed boy” Gumilyov’s increasingly frustrated pursuit over the past three years, she decided to marry Gumilev. In her letter to her brother-in-law, we can see Akhmatova’s uncertainty about this marriage: “I believe that my destiny is to be his wife. As for whether I love him or not, I don’t know. I think , presumably love.” Unexpectedly, the letter turned the actual situation upside down. The definite marriage that was destined for life cannot last long, and the uncertain love lasts their whole life. In 1910, Akhmatova and Gumilev were married in a village church. The bride’s family was not optimistic about the marriage, and no one attended the wedding.
  The unhappiness of the marriage soon appeared in the lives of both poets. The first is Gumilev’s pursuit of new love after another. He loved Akhmatova and knew that Akhmatova loved him. But at the same time he believes that a real man should have many wives, so he has never stopped pursuing young and beautiful women around him. For example, after his engagement with Anna, he also duel with Voloshin on November 22, 1909 because of his pursuit of Vasilyeva (probably because of this duel, Akhmatova did not like Voloshin. man, who does not even consider him a poet). Secondly, although they share a common poetic ideal and form the Acme School together, they have very different life pursuits. Although Gumilev looks weak, he has a strong spirit of exploration and curiosity, and he has “a soul that never rests.” He only wanted Akhmatova to be docile, but he didn’t realize that his wife was a poet greater than himself. While Akhmatova demanded her creative rights, she also hoped to stay with her lover and not be separated. For example, in “Under the Dark Veil” in her collection of poems “Twilight”, “If you leave again, I will die.” This verse undoubtedly expresses the female poet’s dissatisfaction with her husband often leaving her to travel alone. But the blandness of being with the same person every day is precisely what Gumilev, who was born to wander, disliked, and his thrill-seeking nature left him with a lack of responsibility for his family. Ultimately, in a continual encounter where both men tried to find love outside of marriage, the two poets’ marriage came to an end on August 5, 1918, even though they had been living together for eight years by then. However, the love between them, especially Akhmatova’s attachment to Gumilev, did not come to an end with the end of the marriage, but to a new starting point. In her third collection of poems “White Qunwu” published in September 1917, the love that had been eroded by marriage, which she often sighed, re-embedded in her heart with the end of marriage. This time, it was really forever. Of course Akhmatova had sought extramarital relationships before their divorce, but it was more of a desire for Gumilev’s love and care. Although before her divorce from Gumilev, some of her published works were written for other lovers (such as the poem “I don’t smile anymore” to Anlepo), more of the poems in the collection are expressed because Gumilev The cold and sad, the poems are still full of his thoughts.
  Immediately after his divorce from Akhmatova, Gumilev married Anna and Angelgart. And Akhmatova married Shrejko (Shrejko) in December of the same year. There is no doubt that the two weddings did not bring happiness to the two poets. The marriage with Shreiko can even be regarded as the result of Akhmatova’s anger and marriage again. Of course, even after the divorce, Akhmatova mentioned Shreiko, an Assyrian scholar, and still admired her very much. But it seems that this marriage is more about replying to Gumilev’s intelligence, so even if Akhmatova is willing to sacrifice her talents for family and marriage, she still can’t stand Shreiko’s indifference to her, because What she always misses in her heart is the passion of Gumilev’s love for her. In the summer of 1921, Akhmatova and Shreiko separated. Maybe she could have come together with Gumilev again, but history doesn’t. On August 3 of the same year, Gumilev was suddenly arrested. After learning the news, Akhmatova immediately appealed to Gorky for help, but on the 24th, the young Akmeist poet Gumilev was sentenced to be executed by shooting for the trumped-up “counter-revolutionary conspiracy”. In a sense, his death also marked the end of the Silver Age.
  Gumilyov’s death knocked down the always strong Akhmatova. She fell ill and lived in the Imperial Village, where they shared memories, until the end of the year. She never believed that Gumilev would be a conspiratorial insurgent, so in the early 1960s, despite all the years that had passed, Akhmatova was still looking for someone to reopen the Gumilev case. Regarding her pain at that time, we can feel one or two from her mourning poem “You are no longer alive”: “You are no longer alive, you can’t stand up from the snow, twenty-eight stab wounds, and five bullet holes. I I sewed a painful new dress for my boyfriend, the land of Russia, I like, like this drop of blood.” On August 27, she wrote the poem “Fear” again in the imperial village. They met, knew and fell in love in this place, but now they are different. She thought about sharing weal and woe with Gumilyov, “it’s better to put the rubbed rifle against my chest”, although they have been divorced for three years, but judging from such intense pain, Akhmatova is now better than with Gumilev still loves him when they are together. The fear of losing Gumilyov forever in her life caused Akhmatova to feel restless in her soul.
  Akhmatova has since started her lifelong nostalgia for Gumilev, and even later with Puning, it seems that she misses Gumilev too much. Because Puning was probably the last one of his friends who saw Gumilev, he still remembered that Gumilev had a copy of “Homer” under his arm at that time, how she hoped that the last person who saw Gumilev could be Own. In fact, of the three men with whom she had a de facto marriage (she was not married to Puning), “how easily she can talk about Shireiko, how willingly Gumilyov is, and how hard she avoids talking about Puning. “Maybe because she knew that she was with Puning only because she loved Gumilev too much and wanted to keep his last memory in this world, so she never fell in love with Puning. And a “happy” shows how deep and sincere Akhmatova’s feelings for Gumilev are, in Lidia Chukovskaya’s “Notes of Akhmatova (3) Poem” Akhmatova’s passion for talking about Gumilyov is also detailed in the book “The Pilgrimage”, perhaps in this way she can feel that her long-dead husband seems to be still with her, as if he had never left Same.
  Of course, the poetess, while deeply attached to Gumilev, did not give up her independent thoughts, she did not depend on anyone, even if that person was her deeply loved husband Gumilev. So when Gumilev’s habit of messing with flowers hurt Akhmatova’s independent feelings, Akhmatova chose to leave. Although she was reluctant to part with Gumilev, she could not lose herself for this. Especially since he has the same great heart and soul. What’s more, perhaps only by leaving can she better maintain her eternal love for Gumilev. Until 1963, in her later years, Akhmatova believed that her figure was reflected in Gumilev’s autobiography and poetry, and thought: “Because of me, he traveled (to get rid of the torment of love), because of me he changed Like Don Juan (to prove to me that he was in love with me), he also wrote many poems for me.” The depth of Khmatova’s love for Gumilev. This kind of love cannot be surpassed by time, life and death. Actually not only
  During the period, Gumilev’s poems are full of shadows of Akhmatova, and there are countless Gumilevs in Akhmatova’s poems. In addition to the poems “You are not alive” written at the time of Gumilev’s death, she sang elegy again for the Gumileovs in her later works such as “In Memory of Sergey Yesenin”. The feature of integrating the nostalgia for Gumilyov into his creative life has continued into the poems written by the female poet in her later years, such as “Twenty-Three Years Later” written in 1963: “You are calling my name! You Call me tirelessly and loudly again… ‘Anna!’ You call me ‘you’ as before.” Lidia Chukovskaya, who has been with Akhmatova, thinks this “You” is Gumilyov who haunts Akhmatova. Perhaps it was these tireless dreams that accompanied Akhmatova through the long journey of life and gave her the strength to overcome so many hardships.
  Even though Akhmatova is a great poet herself, many people even consider her works to be far better than Gumilev’s. But Akhmatova has never changed her admiration and love for Gumilev’s works. For example, when someone talks to Akhmatova on the subject of pantheism, she quotes Gumilev’s poem “Bonfire” as an argument, and when someone thinks that Diakonov’s translation of “Gilgamesh” is bigger than Gumilev Hershey, she was furious, thinking the two were simply not comparable. It all goes to show how enduring Akhmatova’s love for Gumilev is. Moreover, after Gumilev was shot, Akhmatova not only actively helped him to redress his injustice, but at the same time has been organizing his manuscripts so that his works can be published. Maybe the two parties who are truly in love do not necessarily have to spend their entire lives in marriage, and maybe a lifetime of attachment is the highest state of love. In 1966, Akhmatova went through a lifetime of nostalgia for Gumilev. Attachment continues in the respective souls.