Now no-one will be listening to songs.

The days long prophesied have come to pass.

The world has no more miracles. Don’t break

My heart, song, but be still: you are the last.

Not long ago you took your morning flight

With all a swallow’s free accomplishment.

Now that you are a hungry beggar-woman,

Don’t go knocking at the stranger’s gate.

Anna Akhmatova

(Plantain, 1919)