Anna Akhmatova
Song about Song

So many stones have been thrown at me
That I don't fear them any longer
The trap an elegant tower has become,
Among tall towers, the taller.
I'm grateful to their builders — so be gone
Their sadness and their worry, go away,
Early from here I can see the dawn
And here triumphant lives the sun's last ray.
And frequently into my room's window
The winds from northern seas begin to blow
And pigeon from my palms eats wheat...
The pages that I did not complete
Divinely light she is and calm,
Will finish Muse's suntanned arm.

Translated by Ilya Shambat