seagull2010

Anna Akhmatova(23.06.1889.-5.03.1966).

The portrait by O.Kardovskaya(1914)

My hands clasped under a veil...(1911)

My hands clasped under a veil, dim and hazy…
"Why are you so pale and upset?"
That’s because I today made him crazy
With the sour wine of regret.

Can't forget! He got out, astound,
With his mouth distorted by pain...
I, not touching the railing, ran down,
I was running to him till the lane.

Fully choked, I cried, “That's a joke --
All that was. You get out, I'll die."
And he smiled very calmly, like stroke:
"It is windy right here -- pass by."


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, August, 2000
Edited by Orit Bonver, August 2000  The Grey-Eyed King(1910)  Hail! Hail to thee, o, immovable pain!
The young grey-eyed king had been yesterday slain.

This autumnal evening was stuffy and red.
My husband, returning, had quietly said,

"He'd left for his hunting; they carried him home;
They'd found him under the old oak's dome.

I pity the queen. He, so young, past away!...
During one night her black hair turned to grey."

He found his pipe on a warm fire-place,
And quietly left for his usual race.

Now my daughter will wake up and rise --
Mother will look in her dear grey eyes...

And poplars by windows rustle as sing,
"Never again will you see your young king..."

1910


© Copyright, 1996
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, August 1996 "Forgotten?"(1957)  Forgotten? I’m not even wondered!
Forgotten was I hundred times,
And times, I’m in grave, were too hundred,
May be, my corps now there lies.
And Muse was too deafened and blinded,
Was rotting – a seed – in soils’ mesh,
To rise then to blue of the Highland
Like Phoenix from blackness of ash


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, August, 2002