Anna Akhmatova I’ve written down the words

I’ve written down the words
That I’ve not dared to speak.
My body’s strangely dumb.
Dully my head beats.

The horn cries have died.
The heart’s still confused.
On the croquet lawn, light
Autumn snowflakes fused.

Let the last leaves rustle!
Let last thoughts torment!
I don’t wish to trouble
Those used to happiness.

Iforgive those lips, eyes
Of yours, their cruel jest…
Oh, tomorrow we’ll ride
That first wintry sledge.

Drawing-room candles will glow
More tenderly in the day.
Of conservatory roses,
I’ll bring a whole bouquet.