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Anna Akhmatova - Gray-Eyed King
Work rating: Medium

Glory to you, inescapable pain!
The gray-eyed king died yesterday.

The autumn evening was sultry and red,
My husband returned and quietly said:

"You know, they brought him back from the hunt,
They found his corpse by the old oak tree.

I pity the queen. He was so young!..
In just one night her hair turned white."

He found his pipe on the mantelpiece
And went out to his nighttime shift.

I`ll go and wake my daughter now,
I`ll look into her little gray eyes.

 While outside the rustling poplars say:
"Your king is no longer upon this earth…"

Another translation.
By Yevgeny Bonver: 


The Grey-Eyed King
   
Hail! Hail to thee, o, immovable pain!
The young grey-eyed king had been yesterday slain.

This autumnal evening was stuffy and red.
My husband, returning, had quietly said,

"He`d left for his hunting; they carried him home;
They`d found him under the old oak`s dome.

I pity the queen. He, so young, past away!...
During one night her black hair turned to grey."

He found his pipe on a warm fire-place,
And quietly left for his usual race.

Now my daughter will wake up and rise --
Mother will look in her dear grey eyes...

And poplars by windows rustle as sing,
"Never again will you see your young king..."
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