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.
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