Innokenty Annensky
A current of mignonette in the dark car

Dors, dors, mon enfant!

Don’t disturb him in the dim early hours,
Warm his sleepiness with a kiss...
But yourself-all shivering, rise: You
Alone, you are ruling... But faster!
        For you I animated a dream,
        And its minutes are numbered...
. . . . .
The gloom, so soundless, black and warm,
Is suffused with mignonette...
        In the blue lights, among
        The leaves, on the branches.
                Without number
Wax glitterings are swimming.
                And in the garden,
                As if in a frenzy
The chrysanthemums are blooming...
. . . . .
Everything you can do there, all you can dare now,
        Believe neither in entreaties nor in reproaches!
. . . . .
                While candles gutter
                And gillyflowers live,
        While in a dream mignonette breathes —
        Here is neither torment, nor sin, nor shame...
        . . . . .
        You fear your well-groomed
        Feet in blood, and for
        The white garland in
        Your disordered plait?..
        Oh, be silent! Don’t call!

Like minutes are the hours
Of unconcealed and tender beauty.
. . . . .On the branches
The dream of blue chrysanthemums
        Has burnt out in the lights...
. . . . .
You will wake, fresh and pure,
                And quite so... Oh, quite so!
Without confusion in your face,
In your wedding ring...
. . . . .
The hand will show seven...

Translated by R. H. Morrison