Friday, 19 April 2013

Sunbeam - Anna Akhmatova

I pray to the sunbeam from the window -
It is pale, thin, straight.
Since morning I have been silent,
And my heart - is split.
The copper on my washstand
Has turned green,
But the sunbeam plays on it
So charmingly.
How innocent it is, and simple,
In the evening calm,
But to me in this deserted temple
It's like a golden celebration,
And a consolation.

Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966) Russia

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you.