Anna Akhmatova
In drowsiness, once more astounded...

In drowsiness, once more astounded,
Our starry heaven I behold —
The city of the purest fountains,
Bakhchisarai of shinning gold.

There, past the fence, and down below,
Along the water, we recalled
The fields of Tsarskoye Selo,
As we sat, blissfully enthralled,

There we discerned him, so resplendent, —
It’s Catherine’s eagle — soaring fast!
And down the valley he descended
From the elaborate gates of brass.

To keep alive the song’s motif
Of just how much the parting hurt,
The dusky autumn brought red leaves
Inside the hemming of her skirt

And strewed the steps on which we stood,
Where finally we parted, dear,
And from those steps, my solace, you,
Into the shadows, disappeared. 

Translated by Andrey Kneller