Yellow

Found these lines in Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels : "You're many years late,/ How happy I am to see you". I googled for the entire poem and found this :



Broad and yellow is the evening light, by Anna Akhmatova (1915)


Broad and yellow is the evening light,

The coolness of April is dear.
You, of course, are several years late,
Even so, I'm happy you're here.

Sit close at hand and look at me,
With those eyes, so cheerful and mild:
This blue notebook is full, you see,
Full of poems I wrote as a child.

Forgive me, forgive me, for having grieved
For ignoring the sunlight, too.
And especially for having believed
That so many others were you.