" The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord --
Across the face of the beloved did creep,
Who, sleeping, went a little pale,
And then again more tightly went to sleep.

It seemed that warmth of ray of sun
Appeared to him just like a kiss.
And long with these my lips I have not touched
The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips.

And now, the deceased spirits in my long
Disconsolate wandering along the way,
I am now flying toward him as a song
And I caress him with a morning ray. "

― Anna Akhmatova