You don't know

Ah, I didn't lock the door, 

I didn't light the candles. 

You don't know that, exhausted, 

I decided not to go to bed. 

 

To watch how the streaks of sunset 

Died away in the gloom of the firs, 

Getting drunk on the sound of a voice 

That resembles yours. 

 

[Anna Akhmatova {1889-1966} 'On a White Night', from The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova]