Anna Akhmatova
You, who first stood before the source...

You, who first stood before the source
With your smile, so deadly stoned!
How tortures us a look, you own, —
The heavy look of the night-birds.
But awful years will soon pass,
You’ll be again and young and careless,
And we’ll preserve the cold, mysterious,
Of minutes, given you for once.

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver