I taught myself to live simply and wisely，

　　to look at the sky and pray to God，

　　and to wander long before evening

　　to tire my superfluous worries.

　　When the burdocks rustle in the ravine

　　and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops

　　I compose happy verses

　　about life's decay， decay and beauty.

　　I come back. The fluffy cat

　　licks my palm， purrs so sweetly

　　and the fire flares bright

　　on the saw-mill turret by the lake.

　　Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof

　　occasionally breaks the silence.

　　If you knock on my door

　　I may not even hear.

Anna Akhmatova