I’m praying to the window ray –
It’s thin, direct and bright.
I have kept silence through the day,
And I am split inside.
The ancient brass of my wash-stand
Turned green. I do not mind.
The perfect glimmer would descend
And lift my spirits high.
It's like an innocent embrace
In silence of the night,
But in this temple-looking place
It is His ever sweetest Grace
And Holy Day of mine.
28 августа 2009
Оригинал «Молюсь оконному лучу …» А.Ахматовой