'In Memoriam, July 19, 1914' by Anna Akhmatova

We aged a hundred years, and this
Happened in a single hour:
The short summer had already died,
The body of the ploughed plains smoked.

Suddenly the quiet road burst into color,
A lament flew up, ringing, silver…
Cornering my face, I implored God
Before the battle to strike me dead.

Like a burden henceforth unnecessary,
The shadows of passion and songs vanished from my memory.
The Most High ordered it — emptied —
To become a grim book of calamity.

- From Anna Akhmatova's third collection, White Flock(1917)