and suddenly a line rings out

I don't need martial hosts arrayed in odes 

And the charm of ornamental elegies. 

For me, everything in poetry should be out of place, 

Not what people think it is. 

If only you knew from what rubbish 

Poetry grows, knowing no shame, 

Like a yellow dandelion by the fence, 

Like burdock and goosefoot. 

An angry cry, fresh smell of tar, 

Mysterious mold on the wall... 

And suddenly a line rings out, lively, tender, 

To my delight and yours. 

 [Anna Akhmatova {1889-1966} "2" from ‘Secrets of the Craft’, in The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova]