Anna Akhmatova — Muse

Anna Akhmatova — Muse

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, a 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.'