Innokenty Annensky
Autumn (And all night...)

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
And all night there hazes meandered across the moon,
And all night someone pitifully sensitive dozed
On the seat there, his derby hat pulled down low.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
And towards daybreak, in the milky fog
There was hanging on the birch a
Twistedly horrible and torturingly
Black pod, slightly below the disheveled
Nests, and as long as a man’s height...
And the bluishness looked doubtingly
At late Autumn, which had given birth.

Translated by R. H. Morrison