Anna Akhmatova
The anxious days will not recede...

The anxious days will not recede,
And stronger grows the smell of rye.
If you were laid here at my feet,
My darling, lie.

In the trees, orioles shrill all day,
Only the night breaks this routine.
It’s fun to fan lively wasps away
From your eyes of green.

The bells jingle as a coach goes by, —
A sound so memorable, so light.
I’ll sing a song, so you don’t cry,
About the parting night. 

Translated by Andrey Kneller