Akhmatova, "Из памяти твоей я выну этот день"

A work ("From your remembrance this day I derive") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

From your remembrance this day I derive, 
So that your blank and foggy gaze may ask:  
Where once did I see Persian lilacs bask? 
And swallows, and a wooden house alive?  

So oft now comes into your past-flush heart  
A yearning pain, a wish whose name stays hid:  
To seek amidst a thoughtful city's grid  
That street, which figures on no map or chart!   

To see each random letter as a kiss, 
To hear that voice behind a door ajar,
You will think to yourself: "She has come far  
To help my faithlessness turn into bliss."