| I was born alone in a crypt
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| Where I grew up as an hermit.
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| This decrepit cave is filled
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| With petrified figures.
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| I’ve devoted my life to infamy
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| Among these tombs I’ve called my family.
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| But today, fed up with this polluted air,
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| I escape from my shrine
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| To discover the lakes and mountains around.
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| My heart wonders at the magnificence
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| Of a landscape under a vibrant dawn.
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| The world has something to offer
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| That gives me the force to go further.
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| Again and again, I’ll climb these mountains
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| And catch every golden ray of light.
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| The pure breeze cleans out my lungs,
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| The road is hard and long, but not that much,
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| As hope lifts me to the highest summits.
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| Making a stop to drink from a spring
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| I meet mountain people, — strong and straight-
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| And followed them in their village
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| To continue my pilgrimage.
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| They welcome me like a king,
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| As if I was their long gone friend.
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| Women are lovely and children smile,
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| I’d like to stay here for a while,
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| But I must go on, my search’s not over yet,
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| And I’ll never regret my ancient casket. |