| 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
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| 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 |