Innokenty Annensky
The statue of peace

With gilded baths and glory’s obelisks to bound her,
A stone-white young girl stands — with tall, thick grass around her.

Her thyrsus gives no joy; her tambourine won’t stir;
Even white-marbled Pan is not in love with her.

Only the chilling fogs caress her with embraces,
And on her the moist lips of mist leave their black traces.

But still she is proud of her beauty as before
Though no one mows the grass around her anymore.

The statue of that goddess (I don’t know the reason)
Can cast the sweetest spell on me in any season.

I like her being wronged, her terrible there,
Her tightened legs and that coarse knot of braided hair.

Especially when a cold, cold drizzle pricks and pelts us
And her own nakedness is very white and helpless.

Give me eternity, I'd give it to the spheres...
For an indifference to all wrongs, to passing years.

Translated by Vladimir Markov and Merrill Sparks