'Ah! You thought I'm the kind too,'

by Anna Akhmatova

　　To cry 'how could you forget me',

　　And praying and sobbing, throw myself

　　Under the horses' hooves.

　　Or that I'd ask the sorceress

　　For some enchanted root in water,

　　And send you a fatal gift –

　　My secretly-scented handkerchief.

　　I'd rather be damned. Not a look or sigh

　　Will reach your accursed soul,

　　But I swear by the angelic garden,

　　I swear by the miraculous icon,

　　And by our nights of fiery passion –

　　I'll never return to you.