by Anna Akhmatova
I clasped my hands below my dark veil…
“My child, what’s made you so pale?”
– That I poured him bitter grief
Until he was drunk with it.
How can I forget? He left, stumbling,
His mouth curved in pain.
I ran downstairs, not touching the rail –
I chased him to the gate.
Panting, I shouted, “A joke!
That’s all! If you leave – I’ll die.”
His smile was dreadfully calm –
“Don’t stand out in this wind.”
This poem is a translation of a poem by the great Russian poet Anna Akhmatova. This is one of my favorite poems of hers – what an ending! Thanks to Sasha Dorofeev, who helped explain the literal translation of the original Russian, and also to my father Detmar Finke, who had a mind and an ear for poetry and helped with the final English version. You can find many translations of it online if you want to compare – just searching for “Akhmatova dark veil” will pull up a lot.
