"Broad Gold, the Evening"


Broad gold, the evening colors glow,
The April air is cool and tender.
You should have come ten years ago,
And yet in welcome I surrender.

Come here, sit closer in our nook,
And turn gay eyes at what my nurses
Might never glimpse: the blue-bound book
That holds my awkward childish verses.

Forgive me that I did not look
Sunward with joy, but dwelt with sorrow,
Forgive me all whom I mistook
For you, oblivious of the morrow.


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Return to the Anna Akhmatova Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Confession

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.