Afanasy Fet
Revel

(After a performance of 'Freischiitz')

The silent theatre's dark. Agathe
Lies in her marksman's soft embrace.
The soul is swathed in melodies,
Luminous — and life a grace.

All sleeps. And as the river gleams
The sky above the narrow street,
Far off, a wheel's sound dies away,
Resonant where four roads meet.

And with each step the stifling town
Shrinks space before me; only there,
A balcony gutters and a piano's
Notes are singing, high in air.

And with its silver trill, a beam
That begs to enter darkness, wings
Your voice up to the lucid stars
And of my heart the echo rings.

Translated by Randi Anderson and John Heath-Stubbs