The river flows through a ravine, like the bottom of a rut
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Who carved herself
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The ravine walls are rising, higher and higher on both sides
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There are plains up there
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And the more of this water, the deeper it will go
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Taking the shadow of the slopes upon herself ...
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The sand is escaping from under the current, the current is meandering over the sand
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His strength pulls him into the abyss
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But there is still a river at the bottom of this chasm
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It is and will be, it will be as it was
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Because the source, because the source is still beating
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And on the walls of the ravine, stripes of colors and grooves
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History of this river, of these banks
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Traces of fuzzy boulders, shadows of fallen trees
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The mule is scooped up against itself in spite of itself
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And hen, below the faint glow still cuts through the ground
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The ground above him begins to grow together ...
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Gravel and clay on both sides to keep him from running
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The water hisses and absorbs, but lives
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And it turns, bypasses, soaks in, climbs, foams
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But it flows, still flows against the shores
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Because the source, because the source is still beating
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And there are places where the water has almost frozen in the slime
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Under a coat of dirty green;
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There the trace disappears sooner than the one that left it
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The snares are invisible in the marshes
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But the source is still beating, forcing the pulse between the slopes
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So there is a current, although hidden from the eye!
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The sky is almost invisible, the depth is cool and dark
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Let there be avalanches of stones!
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And let the slopes of the merciless ravines merge
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Because what is the shape of the future spaces
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How not an underground river?
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He will flush the grottoes in the rocks, he will discover the golden veins
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Because the source, because the source is still beating ... |