'I pray to the ray from the window-pane'

by Anna Akhmatova

  


I pray to the ray from the window-pane –

  It's pale, thin, and straight.

  All morning I was silent,

  My heart – split in two.

  The copper of my wash-basin

  Is green with verdigris,

  But sunlight plays there,

  How joyously.

  So simple it is, so innocent,

  In evening quiet,

  Yet in this bare shrine,

  It's a gold celebration,

  A consolation, I find.


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