Now farewell, capital,
Farewell, my spring.
Karelia's earth,
Already, yearns for me.
Fields and gardens,
Tranquil and green,
The waters there still deep,
The heavens pale.
The marsh water-nymph,
Mistress of those spaces
Gazes, sadly sighing,
At the bell-tower's cross.
And the oriole, my friend
Of innocent days,
Flew north yesterday,
And cries, among the branches,
That it's shameful to stay
Till May in the city,
Stifle in the theatres,
Be bored on the islands.
Though the oriole can't know,
The nymph can't understand,
How sweet it is for me,
Kissing him!
And yet, this evening,
In the day's quiet decline,
Ishall leave. God's country,
Take me in!
Return to the Anna Akhmatova Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; 'Now no one will listen to my songs.'