Innokenty Annensky
Anguish of the now silent thunderstorm

Did one’s heart not languish
        With desire for the thunderstorm.
Through white-scarlet Hashes?
But now it has fallen in love with
        The turquoise’s fathomlessness.
With its weary eyes!..

All that there is of azure
        Has poured itself into the rays
On gold-embroidered ripples;
All that there is of unstorminess
        And with a caress in its eyes has
Poured itself into green-waving gardens...

From an abode foreign to it
        Only the thunderstorm looks
Into the turquoise panes...
Sorrowful eyes
        No longer stern,
Did you love, will you forgive?..

Translated by R. H. Morrison