Anna Akhmatova

Along the hard crust of deep snows,
To the secret, white house of yours,
So gentle and quiet � we both
Are walking, in silence half-lost.
And sweeter than all songs, sung ever,
Are this dream, becoming the truth,
Entwined twigs� a-nodding with favor,
The light ring of your silver spurs...

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, July, 2002
Edited by Tatiana Piotroff, September, 2002