I asked
the cuckoo:
How
many years will I live? …
The
tips of the pine-trees quivered,
A
yellow ray shone on the grass.
Yet
no sound in the cool grove…
Now I
am going home,
And a
refreshing breeze
Kisses
my burning brow.
From Plantain (1921), tr. A.S. Klein. A time of great suffering for Russia and for Akhmatova, and not the last such time. The animal world is utterly separate from the world of human troubles, and represents an unattainable integrity.
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