Innokenty Annensky
Variant

Poppies at Midday

Scentlessly and flowerily someone’s
Delicate enfolding is opened —
Wings of scarlet cambric have
Unrolled and will not quiver...

        Offending with their bloodstained spot
        All that cherishes-distance and
        Nearness — the poppies have spread avidly
        Through the languid, succulent grass.

But not even day makes them rejoice;
The poppies’ spots are dark in the
Sky, and their bright destiny is
Wearied by a heavy autumn dream.

        By the dream that the garden will be
        Empty and overgrown, and that in it,
        As in church, the old women’s heavy
        Heads are blessed by the Sacrament.

Translated by R. H. Morrison