The blackened skies have reached the garden walk; <br />Yet my poor heart tonight cannot be not the restless… <br />The lights that have been failed, the lost of sounds talk, <br />Are they the remnants of the dream in sadness? <br /> <br />Oh, how sad it was, the satin of her dress, <br />Her breast was very white, among the straps black fair! <br />How sorry I was then to see her eyes distressed, <br />Her hands in snowy gloves, resigned as to a prayer! <br /> <br />And how much her soul was mercilessly dispersed, <br />Among the tearless, cold-hearted and unsettled! <br />Like sounds, bred in silence, were there spelled – <br />The starry sounds – lilac, bright, and gentle! <br /> <br />Like at an anguish’s flesh, from broken a lace, <br />In dazzling light of moon, with gentleness and fire, <br />Roll dawn amethysts into the dewy mire, <br />And die without trace.<br /><br />Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-the-concert-2/
