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Anna Akhmatova - They Didn’t Meet
Work rating: Low

They didn`t meet me, roamed,
On steps with  lanterns bright.
I entered quiet home
In murky, pail moonlight.
 
Under a lamp`s green halo,
With smile of kept in rage,
My friend said, "Cinderella,
Your voice is very strange…"
 
A cricket plays its fiddle;
A fire-place grew black.
Oh, someone took my little
White shoe as a keep-sake,
 
And gave me three carnations,
While casting dawn eyes —.
My sins for accusations,
You couldn`t be disguised.
 
And heart hates to believe in
The time, that`s close too,
When he will ask for women
To try on my white shoe.
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