'I'll erase this day from your memory,'

by Anna Akhmatova

　　So your vague helpless gaze will ask

　　Where you saw Persian lilac,

　　Swallows, and this wooden house.

　　Oh, how often you'll remember

　　The sudden pain of unnamed longing,

　　And in townships seek in dream

　　For a street that isn't on the map!

　　At the sight of every chance letter,

　　When a voice sounds from an open door,

　　You'll think: 'It's she, who's here

　　Bringing help to the non-believer.'