The Sentence

 And the stone word fell

On my still-living breast.

Never mind, I was ready.

I will manage somehow.

Today I have so much to do:

I must kill memory once and for all,

I must turn my soul to stone,

I must learn to live again

Unless . . . Summer's ardent rustling

Is like a festival outside my window.

For a long time I've foreseen this

Brilliant day, deserted house.

by Anna Akhmatova :

Translated from the Russian by Judith Hemschemeyer