Anna Akhmatova
He walked over fields and over village...

He walked over fields and over village,
And he asked the people from afar:
"Where is she, where is the happy glimmer
Of her eyes that seem to be gray stars?

Here the final days of spring
Come along, in turbid fire.
Still more frequent, still more tender
Are the dreams I have of her."

And he came in the dark city
In the quiet evening time
He was thinking then of Venice
And of London all the same.

At the church both tall and dark
Stepped on shining stairs' granite
And he prayed then of the coming
Meeting with his first delight.

And above the altar made of gold
Flamed away the garden of God's rays:
"Here she is, here is the happy glimmer
Of gray joyous stars that are her eyes."

Translated by Ilya Shambat