'I was not born too early or too late,'


I was not born too early or too late,
The time was uniquely blessed,
Only the Lord did not permit
My heart to live without illusion.

That's why it's dark in the living-room,
That's why my friends,
Like sorrowful twilight birds,
Sing of past non-existent love.


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Return to the Anna Akhmatova Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; 'I won't beg for your love.'

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