In Dream by Anna Akhmatova

Black and enduring seperation

I share equally with you.

Why weep? Give me your hand,

Promise me you will come again.

You and I are like high

Mountains and we can’t move closer.

Just send me word

At midnight sometime through the stars.


by Анна Ахматова (Anna Akhmatova) (1946)

from Седьмая книга (The Seventh Book)

translation by D. M. Thomas