The gardens full of gold and decay, <br />With lure of purple of the swelling ailments, <br />And tardy heat of sun in curves of sunbeam’s remnants, <br />Unable to distil into the fragrant spray. <br /> <br />The carpets’ yellow silk and traces, roughly laid, <br />And the avowed false of the preceding meeting, <br />And ponds of parks, extinguished, deep and sad, <br />And ready long ago for suffering and missing… <br /> <br />But ones’ hearts only seek past beauty in decays, <br />Just the allurement of enchanted forces, <br />And they, who’ve tested the unearthly lotus, <br />Are thrilled by fragrance of autumnal days.<br /><br />Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/september-29/
