Innokenty Annensky
Etching

The sorrowful and tremulous din
Did not spread, and was stilled...
Over a silvery thicket are
A scarlet haze and dark ardor.

And in the distance a clear
Drawing-the forest’s blue
Heights, like strokes traced
On copper with aqua fortis.

The road is clear, but the destiny
Frightening, to grow numb, congealing;
And the wounded copper is groaning
For the lifeless sun in the sky.

Without motion the smoke of black
Thought is engraved on smoke rings...
And the thought was wounded, but only
With the poison of long winters.

Translated by R. H. Morrison