August was only the deep quiet of noontime.
The sea, exquisite in its sleep
Had the burnt smell of jasmines.
You murmured:
Even God hadn't solved yet the mysteries of the world,
That's why he hides himself
In little silences.
===
from www.trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem