Ахматова - They walked through the house

They walked through the house in stillness,
Resigned to the wonders of grace.
And then they brought me to the ill man,
And I couldn't recall his face.

He said: "You are finally here", -
And got more pensive anew. -
"My pathway has long been near,
I've only been waiting for you.

It's your voice that's crystal and clear,
I cherish your words in this land.
Tell me something: can't you forgive me?"
And then I answered: "I can."

It seemed that the walls were glinting
Right from the floor to the roof,
And his dry hand was sunken into
Silken blankets, pastel and smooth.

Then his lonely predator's profile
Became so heavy and coarse
That I couldn't hear his cursing
Or recall his bitter-sweet voice.

But the power of lasting glories
Lit his sky-blue eyes to remind:
"It's good that you let me go, since
You haven't always been kind."

And then his features got younger,
And I recognized his face
And said: "Oh , Father above us,
His broken soul do embrace".


Бесшумно ходили по дому,
Не ждали уже ничего.
Меня привели к больному,
И я не узнала его.

Он сказал: "Теперь слава Богу", -
И еще задумчивей стал.
"Давно мне пора в дорогу,
Я только тебя поджидал.

Так меня ты в бреду тревожишь,
Все слова твои берегу.
Скажи: ты простить не можешь?"
И я сказала: "Могу".

Казалось, стены сияли
От пола до потолка.
На шелковом одеяле
Сухая лежала рука.

А закинутый профиль хищный
Стал так страшно тяжел и груб,
И было дыханья не слышно
У искусанных темных губ.

Но вдруг последняя сила
В синих глазах ожила:
"Хорошо, что ты отпустила,
Не всегда ты доброй была".

И стало лицо моложе,
Я опять узнала его
И сказала: "Господи Боже,
Прими раба твоего".

(c) Ахматова