A.Akhmatova, I'M Praying To The Window's Beam.. - Translation (Rus.) - Poem by Lyudmila Purgina
I'm praying to the window's beam,
It is so pale, and thin, and straight...
I'm mute from early morning this,
My heart's half-broken and jaded...
On my washstand the copper turned
To green colour, but the beam is playing
On it's surface, and I'm enjoying
It's innocence, simplicity of raying...
In this vast and so empty church
It's like a gold holiday and consolation.
Comments about A.Akhmatova, I'M Praying To The Window's Beam.. - Translation (Rus.) by Lyudmila Purgina
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You