Innokenty Annensky
Anguish of the pendulum

With an undivined harrowing the date
Has arrived in time today; with a
Rush the rain beats on the window
Panes, the wind tries the door hook.

It is as if everything in the house
Were extinct... My fire is yellow
And black; somewhere a horse is treading
Heavily with a rustling in the straw.

My body is afflicted and laid
Low, but it is agitated by the
Terror that, outraged and angry.
Someone will not let me fall asleep.

And I lie bewitched —
Am I guilty only because
A splendid rose is daubed
On the clock’s white dial?

And on the wall night and day
In a stifling man-made cage a
Mad thing walks and beckons,
Trailing its mute shadow.

It walks, and walks, and suddenly bounds
Back, and hisses, measuring out the hour,
Hisses and laughs, and starts
To mutter, becoming heated,

And again with its footsteps to
Measure the quivering light on
The wall, and to watch, to check
Whether people are asleep or not.

It walks and beckons, and to
Keep time and even out its
Steps the maniac repeats with a
Wicked zeal “Just so, just so...”

All is extinguished. In the pit
Nothing more can be seen or heard...
But who is continuing to
Wave with his sleeves there?

No! Enough... though hardly at all,
Though the distance is sorrowfully turning
White, and one’s head on the plaid, not
Without a sweet delight, is becoming drowsy.

Translated by R. H. Morrison