Insomnia Somewhere cats are mewing pitifully, I catch the sound of distant steps.... Your words are a wonderful lullaby: Because of them for three months I haven't slept. Insomnia, you are with me again, again! I recognize your fixed countenance. What is it, my outlaw, what is it, my pretty one, Do I sing so badly to you? White cloth curtains the windows, Dim light streams blue... Or are we being consoled by news from afar? Why do I feel so at ease with you? by Anna Akhmatova Winter1911 Tsarskoye Selo Translated by Judith Hemschemeyer Return to Akhmatova Index Return to Russian Poets index