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Broad Gold

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Broad Gold, The Evening
by Anna Ahkmatova (1889-1966)

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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