Anna Akhmatova
Deception

I

This morning’s drunk with sunny weather,
And on the terrace, — loud scents of roses,
The sky is brighter than the blue faience.
The notebook’s bound in the soft Morocco leather;
I’m reading in it elegies and verses
All written for my grandma in romance.

I see the road up to the gate, and up ahead,
White pillars shining in the emerald lawn.
The heart loves blindly, completely gripped!
I find delight in gaudy flowerbeds,
The sudden cries of the ascending crow,
And the secluded arches of the crypt.

November 2, 1910
Kiev

II

The wind is stifling and parching,
Sun-burnt fingers in the grass,
Overhead, the heaven’s arches
Are made of blue and fragile glass;

The fallen immortelles are drying,
Near the sickle swinging loose.
Working ants have formed a highway
Running up the twisting spruce.

The silver pond is idly gleaming,
Life is easy — no regret…
O, I wonder whom I’ll dream of
In my hammock’s motley net?

January 1910,
Kiev

III

Dark blue evening. Winds abate,
Lured by the light, I make my way.
I’m guessing, standing by the gate —
Who could he be? — My fiancé?...

On the porch, a silhouette,
And a quiet conversation.
Never have I ever felt
Such a languorous sensation.

Anxious poplars stir and sigh,
As their tender dreams prevail,
Burnished steel infused the sky
And the stars are dull and pale.

In the bunch of gillyflowers
There’s a secret flame embalmed
For the one who’ll take the blossoms
And caress my timid palm.

September 1910
Tsarskoe Selo

IV

I wrote the words that lately
I wouldn’t dare to speak.
My head is dully aching,
My body’s numb and weak.

The distant horn’s subsided,
Heart’s mysteries — unknown.
First autumn snow fell lightly
Upon the croquet lawn.

Last aching thoughts will linger!
Last leaves will come undone!
I never wished to hinder
The one who's used to fun.

Dear lips — absolved at last
For jokes that hurt me so…
You’ll come to visit us
Tomorrow, through the snow.

Candles aglow, by day,
Are tender and more ardent.
They’ll bring a whole bouquet
Of roses from the garden.

August 1910
Tsarskoe Selo

Translated by Andrey Kneller