Innokenty Annensky
Interrupted rhythm

Sonnet

No matter how resounding or lively, the Ia-
-mbus is weary and stilled
Among golden sparklings,
Having yielded to other harmonies.

And so, suddenly on the bare twigs
Of the prose of morning, a hail of
Crackers; on the leaves by a wave of
The wand, verse gallops after verse.

Close to the footlights, I recognize
You, winged friend of epigrams, me-
-asure of the Third Paeon.

In the sparklings of morning you h-
-ave already played tender dances
Of Chimeras to the pale lamp.

Translated by R. H. Morrison