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Anna Akhmatova

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At dawn they came and took you away.
You were my dead: I walked behind.
In the dark room children cried,
the holy candle gasped for air.
--
They led you away... They took you away at daybreak. Half wak- ing, as though at a wake, I followed. In the dark chamber children were crying, In the image-case, candlelight guttered. At your lips, the chill of icon, A deathly sweat at your brow. I shall go creep to our walling wall, Crawl to the Kremlin towers.
--
Translated by D. M. Thomas

 
Anna Akhmatova

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