---

Anna Akhmatova - I Wrung My Hands
Work rating: Medium

I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . .
"Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?"
— Because I have made my loved one drunk
with an astringent sadness.

I`ll never forget.  He went out, reeling;
his mouth was twisted, desolate. . .
I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters,
and followed him as far as the gate.

And shouted, choking: "I meant it all
in fun.  Don`t leave me, or I`ll die of pain."
He smiled at me — oh so calmly, terribly —
and said: "Why don`t you get out of the rain?"
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.