I don’t think of you often at all,
I’m not interested much in your fate,
But the imprint you've left on my soul
On our trivial meeting won’t fade.
I avoid your red house by design,
Your red house overlooking the water,
But I know I disturb every time
Your sun-pierced peaceful order.
It was probably some other person,
Who begged for my love, chest to chest,
And it wasn’t your golden verses
That immortalized my unrest, -
But I’m reading the future, repeating
All the spells when the evening is blue,
And I foresee a subsequent meeting,
An inevitable meeting with you.
By Anna Akhmatova
Translation by Andrey Kneller