As a White Stone... Anna Akhmatova

As a White Stone...

Anna Akhmatova

1916

As a white stone in the well's cool deepness,

There lays in me one wonderful remembrance.

I am not able and don't want to miss this:

It is my torture and my utter gladness.

I think, that he whose look will be directed

Into my eyes, at once will see it whole.

He will become more thoughtful and dejected

Than someone, hearing a story of a dole.

I knew: the gods turned once, in their madness,

Men into things, not killing humane senses.

You've been turned in to my reminiscences

To make eternal the unearthly sadness.

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, August, 2000

Edited by Orit Bonver, August, 2000

http://www.poetryloverspage.com/yevgeny/akhmatova/all_in_moscow.html