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Anna Akhmatova

Anna Akhmatova

ANNA AKHMATOVA: "Muse Went Away..."

"Muse Went Away..."

1915
Muse went away by the road,
The autumnal, narrow, steep,
And her swarthy feet were slopped,
With large drops of dew in her slip.

I begged her, with hope and fear,
To stay till the winter’s white lace,
She answered, “There is a grave here, 
How can you still breathe in such place?”

I wished to give her a she-pigeon,
The whitest in our doves’ nest,
Bur suddenly and without reason,
She fled after my slender guest.

I looked after Muse, and was silent,
I loved only her till my end,
And in skies grew a sunrise giant,
As the gate into her own land.  


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, August, 2002


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