Prayer for Anna Akhmatova

How it now spins, how it hovers between us,
That invention called love, as the poet once said,
When you put it out, you put me on fire,
Silently glowing in ashes of dread.

Why does it wait for the cold winds of winter,
Why does it hold back the torrents in May,
Like a devilish child that has now been awakened,
A new dream is born and will soon go its way.

Let sleep take care of your fears and your anguish,
Let nighttime abscond now with your every tear,
And when you awake somewhere up in the heavens
An eclipse of the heart will have taken place here.

[Lutje Ana Ahmatovës, from the volume Festë me ankthin, Elbasan: Onufri, 1997, p. 31, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]