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At the mysterious river, in a sleeping wood, |
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In a dark grove there is an ancient and sad oak |
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There, the covered foliage, the tomb has settled down |
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In it the most secret desires covered with ashes of time |
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In fine light of the wood, painted by gloomy tones |
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Its silhouette flickers blue sparks - they so are beautiful and sad |
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She looks at me an illusive sight, she calls me, she calls me |
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Its hair cry on a wind, twisting me immersing in deep dream |
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I shall have a drink you to the bottom, I shall enjoy this marvellous taste |
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Sweet lips touch me - give me this last kiss, keeping away and keeping away from me |
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Delightful sufferings of carnal love will carry away us in nonexistence |
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Learn my flesh, having plunged completely in oblivion of my caress |