By Anna Akhmatova

 The Second Dedication (1945)

To Olga Glebova-Sudeykina

Is it you there, Scrambler-Psyche,

With a black-and-white fan who’s swiping,

And who bends now above my head?

Do you wish to reveal, in secret,

That you breathe now a different springtime,

Having traversed the Lethe’s bed?

Stop dictating, I still have ears:

A soft whisper through ivy veers,

On the roof a warm shower stays.

Someone little prepared for living,

And tomorrow was trying, greening

To show off a new puffy cape.

I’m asleep, she alone stands over,

One called “spring”, but the way I know her

Finds that “loneliness” is her name.

I’m asleep, dreaming of our youth and

That one cup, which his mouth eluded,

Which I’ll give you, when I’m awake,

A memento, if you might want it,

And its clay like a pure flame glowing,

Or like snowdrops that bloom on graves.

- May 25th, 1945 The Fountain House