I haven't locked the door, <br />Nor lit the candles, <br />You don't know, don't care, <br />That tired I haven't the strength <br />To decide to go to bed. <br />Seeing the fields fade in <br />The sunset murk of pine-needles, <br />And to know all is lost, <br /> <br />That life is a cursed hell: <br />I've got drunk <br />On your voice in the doorway. <br />I was sure you'd come back.<br /><br />Anna Akhmatova<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-night-2/
