Saturday, December 31, 2016

The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova


The Last Toast

I drink to our ruined house,
to the dolor of my life,
to our loneliness together;
and to you I raise my glass,
to lying lips that have betrayed us,
to dead-cold, pitiless eyes,
and to the hard realities:
that the world is brutal and coarse,
that God in fact has not saved us.

(Translated by Stanley Kunitz and Max Hayward)




 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.