by Anna Akhmatova
I heard a voice. It called me tenderly.
It called: Come to me, dear.
Leave country, leave the sinful land,
Leave Russia - forever.
I'll wash a blood from your hands, dear,
I'll pull a black shame from your heart.
I'll cover with a new name, really,
The pain from a defeat, from insult.
But calmly so and so indifferently
I closed the ears with my hands,
In order not to profane hearing
Of mounful spirit with such spell.
- -
In russian and translation into bulgarian
by Maria Shandurkova
http: //www.stihi.ru/2013/01/16/223
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem