Innokenty Annensky
Second paeon — fourth paeon

Sonnet

You are equally ready consorts in the
Service of flattery or reverie; should
One call you you, or call you
Thou, Second Paeon, Fourth Paeon?

As on coins, your once bright
Features are eroded, and you
Pour out mossy lines of a
Gravestone, like icing on cakes.

You are the deathly pale photo
Of ghostly blue heights in a well.
You are a drunken beer bung,

You are that messenger at the
New Year who brings us orchids.
Breathing into his iced hood.

Translated by R. H. Morrison