Anna Akhmatova
And once more

And once more the autumn blasts like Tamerlane,
There is silence in the streets of Arbat.
Beyond the little station or beyond the haze
The impassable road is dark.

So here it is, the latest one! And the rage
Subsides. It's as if the world had gone deaf...
A mighty, evangelical old age
And that most bitter Gethsemane sigh.

Translated by Judith Hemschemeyer