Untitled.

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Written by Anna Akhmatova.
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Around my neck are rosary strands
My eyes cannot focus, though open and dry
In a furry muff I hide my hands,
My eyes are no longer able to cry.
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And the face seems paler than of late
Because of the silky violet dress
And the uncurled bangs hang down straight
To the line of my eyebrows, more or less.
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This slow agonizing walk makes the picture complete
It won't resemble flight any more
It's as if a raft were under my feet
And not the squares of a parquet floor.
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The breathing is ragged, as if from a race
On my chest the flower's trembling has started
Bouquet from a meeting that never took place.
~~~Editted by Rose.