It has been a very strenuous day, lots of cleaning, my daughter having a bad reaction to a wasp bite. We got good help from the First Responders and an ambulance ride was avoided. And while they were here, they gave us a lot of good information about treatment of these stings, and the danger signs.
Everything is OK, now. though. But these events do take the starch out of me.
And the book of Stanley Kunitz's translations of Anna Akhmatova's poems is close to my hand. This is on page 79 of Poems of Akhmatova; selected, translated and introduced by Stanley Kunitz. Houghton Mifflin, 1973
The MuseAll that I am hangs by a thread tonight
as I wait for her who no one can command.
Whatever I cherish most --- youth, freedom, glory ---
fade before her who bears the flute in her hand.
And look! she comes ; ; ; she tosses back her veil,
staring me down, serene and pitiless.
"Are you the one?" I ask, "whom Dante heard dictate
the lines of his Inferno?" She answers, "Yes."
Where is your muse tonight? Mine is off to bed. I hope for a gentler day tomorrow. Sleep well, and so shall I.