Sunday Morning

Early Sunday morning

Natasha and I lit a candle

Looked in the mirror

I see my face

Don’t be silly

They say you can see your future

In the long row of candles

Stretching back and back and back

Into the depths of the mirror

In the dim confused last square

You’ll see a coffin or a man

Everyone sees a man

I see the candles

Stretching back

So far away

I see the mirrors

I see a shape in the darkness

Is it him or is it—

He’s lying down

Oh Sonya why is he lying down?

I’m so frightened!

Andrey will never come

Or something will happen to me before he does

Sunday morning!

Time for church!

I suffer more now than before

The theater and Anatole

That man who aroused such terrible feelings

I don’t understand

Have I broken faith with Andrey?

Am I guilty?

After church, Marya left for Prince Bolkonsky’s

The rudeness of that man!

I’ll straighten him out!

That terrible old Prince

I can’t bear to think of it

I’ll shut myself in my room

And try on new dresses

And just after Marya left

There was a knock at the door

Natasha had just turned her head to the glass

When she heard a voice that made her flush