By Anna Akhmatova
(1913)
One who's loved always begs for so much!
Begs for nothing the one loved no longer.
Nowadays I'm so glad that the water
Freezes under the colorless ice.
Christ protect me - for surely I'll stand
On that surface, so bright and so brittle.
Now you better keep safe all my letters,
For descendants to judge in the end.
So they'd know you as fearless and wise,
Forming clearer accounts of your story,
For within your biography gloried,
Could one leave any possible space?
Earthly drink tastes excessively sweet
Webs of love spin excessively densely,
And I hope that one day from a textbook
My own name future children would read
And discerning this sorrowful tale,
May they meet it with smiles full of slyness...
You who gave me not love, nor a silence,
Gift me to them through bitterest fame.