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Sunbeam

I pray to the sunbeam from the window -It is pale, thin, straight.

Since morning I have been silent,

And my heart - is split.

The copper on my

Has turned green,

But the sunbeam plays on

So charmingly.

How innocent it is, and simple,

In the evening calm,

But to me in this deserted

It's like a golden celebration,

And a consolation.

Стихи Анны Ахматовой. (11 [23] июня 1889 — 5 марта 1966) — поэт Серебряного века, переводчица и литературовед, одна из наиболее значимых фигур р
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