Ice Girl

The heart's memory of the sun grows faint.
The grass is yellower.
A few early snowflakes blow in the wind,
Barely, barely.

The narrow canals have stopped flowing --
The water is chilling.
Nothing will ever happen here --
Oh, never!

The willow spreads its transparent fan
Against the empty sky.
Perhaps I should not have become
Your wife.

This heart's memory of the sun grows faint.
What's this? Darkness?
It could be! ... One night brings winter's first
Hard freeze.

--Anna Akhmatova, January 30, 1911. From Evening. Translated by Judith Hemschemeyer