Translate to:

Oh, that benavyatam, Diva,
Cyprus and Memphis ...
Hor.

Beauty is very young,
But not from this century,
The two of us will not happen – and, third,
We will not leave never.
You move the chair to her,
I generously share it with flowers ...
What we do – not lend themselves,
But every moment we are afraid.
As released from prison,
We know something about each other
horrible. We are in the infernal circle,
Or maybe, it is not we.
5 July 1963
Komarovo
______________
O goddess, which reigns
happy over Cyprus and Memphis ...
Horace (лат.)

Most read poems of Anna Akhmatova


All poems of Anna Akhmatova

Leave a Reply