Anna Akhmatova
Your palms are fiery...

“Your palms are fiery,
The Easter bells ring loud,
You’re tempted, like St. Anthony,
By visions all around.”

“How was such day’s affair
Mixed with the holy days,
Like thick and tangled hair
Of Magdalenes half-crazed.”

“Thus only children love,
Just once, and then it dies.”
“No light is strong enough —
To match those tranquil eyes."

“This is the devil’s bluff,
Such longing — an offense.”
“No white is white enough —
To match that of her hands.”

Translated by Andrey Kneller