Featured Poem

Under a dark veil she wrung her hands...

Under a dark veil she wrung her hands...
‘What makes you grieve like this?’
I have made my lover drunk
with a bitter sadness.

I'll never forget it. He left, reeling,
his mouth twisted, desolate...
I ran downstairs, ran into the courtyard,
managed to catch him opening the gate

and begged him: ‘It was all a joke, don't leave,
please... I will lose my mind!’
But he only smiled, calmly, terribly,
and said to me: ‘Get inside out of the wind.’

1911

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About the translation:
» Read translator's notes
Poet:
Anna Akhmatova
Translator:
Colette Bryce
Original language:
Russian
Issue:
Series 3 No. 3 - Metamorphoses

Original poem

About the authors

Poet

Anna Akhmatova

Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966) is considered Russia’s greatest modern poet. She published her first book of poems in 1912, and in...

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Translator

Colette Bryce

Colette Bryce (born 1970) is a critically-acclaimed poet from Derry, Northern Ireland. She has published three collections wi...

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Under a dark veil she wrung her hands...

 

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