The fifth act of the drama
Blows in the wind of autumn,
Each flower-bed in the park seems
A fresh grave, we have finished
The funeral-feast, and there’s nothing
To do. Why then do I linger
As if I am expecting
A miracle? It’s the way a feeble
Hand can hold fast to a heavy
Boat for a long time by the pier
As one is saying goodbye
To the person who’s left standing.
by Анна Ахматова (Anna Akhmatova) (1921?)
translation by D. M. Thomas
Fun fact: Though the poem is dated as being written in the 1940s it is more likely it was written just after, her husband Nikolay Stepanovich Gumilyov‘s execution in 1921.