Anna Akhmatova
Bury me, bury me, wind!..

Bury me, bury me, wind!
None of my kin had arrived,
Above me, the evening dimmed
And the earth indistinctly sighed.

Like you, I was free and of course,
I couldn’t resist life’s charms
And now, wind, you see my corpse,
With no one to fold my arms.

Let this black wound recede
As the shroud of darkness spreads,
And command azure mist to read
Psalms up above my head.

To ease me, alone, on the brink
Of sleep for the final time,
Make the sedges rustle of spring,
Of the spring that used to be mine.

Translated by Andrey Kneller