A Land Not Mine
by Anna Akmatova (1889-1966)
(translated by Jane Kenyon
in Bly, News of the Universe,U p.168)

A land not mine, still
      forever memorable,
the waters of its ocean
chill and fresh.

Sand on the bottom whiter than chalk,
and the air drunk, like wine,
late sun lays bare
the rosy limbs of the pine trees.

Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is inside me