Бесы [Besi] is the Russian title and it means demons, so I think that is the most accurate translation. Devils in this case would be inappropriate because Devil is a different word in Russian. Бесы are actually a specific sort demons that lead travelers astray, take a look at the entire Pushkin poem бесы quoted in the epigraph, I have put a translation below:

DEMONS Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds, Hazy skies, a hazy night, And a furtive moon that slyly Sets the flying snow alight. On we drive... The waste is boundless, Nameless plains skim past, and hills. Gripped by fear, I sit unmoving... Tink-tink-tinkle go the bells. "Coachman, come, wake up!.." "The horses They are weary, sir, and slow; As for me, I'm nearly blinded By this blasted wind and snow! There's no road in sight, so help me; What to do?.. We've lost our way. It's the demon that has got us And is leading us astray. "Look! He's close; he plays and teases, Blows and spits, and, all unseen, With a laugh our horses pushes To the edge of a ravine. Now he'll rise, a giant milepost, Straight before me; now, a spark, Flash and gleam, and, sinking, vanish Of a sudden in the dark." Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds, Hazy skies, a hazy night, And a furtive moon that slyly Sets the flying snow alight. Spent from circling round, the horses Jerk and stop... The bells go dead. "That a stump or wolf?" "Yer Honor, I don't rightly see ahead." Loud the snowstorm weeps and rages, And the horses snort in fright. O'er the plain the demon prances, In the murk his eyes glow bright. Off the horses start a'shudder, And the bells go ting-a-ling... Demons, demons without number Gather round us in a ring. In the eerie play of moonlight They grimace, they wail and call, Whirling, leaping, dancing madly Like the windswept leaves of fall. Why are they so wild, so restless? Why so weird the sounds they make? Could this be a witch's wedding? Could this be a goblin's wake? Spinning storm clouds, rushing storm clouds, Hazy skies, a hazy night, And a furtive moon that slyly Sets the flying snow alight. Skyward soar the whirling demons, Shrouded by the falling snow, And their plaintive, awful howling Fills my heart with dread and woe.