Thoughts of the sunlight fainter and dimmer,
And parched the grass.
Breezes, freh breezes at dawn's early shimmer,
Flit by repass.
Look at the willows against a clear heaven,
Cloudless and wide.
Better, Far better not to be given
Thee for thy bride!
Thoughts of the daylight dimmer and fainter.
Oh, darkness! Gloom!
Once again . . . Morning,
Tell me if winter is come.
Anna Akhmatova
