A.Akhmatova, My Voice Is Weak... - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

My voice is weak, but my will's not the same,
I feel at least some lightness love without.
The skies are high, the mount's wind does race,
And I have chaste and pure thoughts in mind.

The sleeplesness, my former nurse, had gone
To others, I'm not languishing at ashes,
And on a tower clocks the pointer curved
Doesn't look like as an arrow deadly.

My past is losing power at my heart!
My freedom's near. I shall all forgive.
Following the view of sun ray rising
And going down the ivy wet in spring.

1912

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Another translation into bulgarian by Maria Shandurkova:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/06/18/2110