Translation: Anna Ahmatova: All Is Taken

All is taken, both strength and love.
In the disgraced city, the discarded body
Is unglad of the sun. I feel my blood
Within me already altogether chilled.

I do not recognize the merry Muses;
They stare and utter not a word,
Only bow their darkly wreathed heads
Exhausted upon my breast.

And only conscience, daily more terribly
Rages, demanding vast tribute.
I used to hide my face and answer her . . .
But I have now no more tears, no more excuses.