When at night I wait for her to come,
Life, it seems hangs by a single strand.
What are glory, youth, freedom, in comparison
With the dear welcome guest, flute in hand ?
She enters now. Pushing her veil aside,
She stares through me with her attentiveness.
I question her: "And were you Dante's guide
Dictating the Inferno"? She answers: "Yes".
For more informatin on this great poet go to..... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anna_Akhmatova
