Echo
by Anna Akhmatova
All the ways to past are now closed,
What the past for me today, what for?
What do you see there? - The bloody stones,
Or the bricked up surely so heavy door?
Or the echo, which is still repeating
Words, and never could this action stop,
I am asking it to end, but really
It is carrying weight, as in my heart, for long.
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In russian and bulgarian translation
by Maria Shandurkova:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/08/07/6992
Lyudmila Purgina
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-akhmatova-echo-translation-rus/
