ANNA AKHMATOVA ~ IN THE EVENING

IN THE EVENING BY ANNA AKHMATOVA

The garden rang with music

Of inexpressible despair.

A dish of oysters spread on ice

Smelled like the ocean, fresh and sharp.

He told me: “I’m a faithful friend!”-

And lightly touched my dress.

How different from embraces

The touch of those two hands.

That’s how one strokes a cat or bird

Or looks at slender lady riders…

Just laughter in his quiet eyes,

Beneath his light gold lashes.

And the despondent voices of the violins

Sing out beyond the hanging smoke:

“Give blessings to heaven above

At last you’re alone with your beloved.”

March 1913