IN AUGUST
There is in a quiet August, dreamy and meek,
SO soft, singing Sorrow,
What a pity for the past, flashed briefly,
What the heart wants: "a pier to forget".
I remember, foggy and indifferent,
August breaks, their meetings, their departures ...
And to my soul they are the same,
Like the rocks of the lake - a steamboat that has passed away...
