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From the stone fountain to your house
a green path the water accompanies,
through the countryside its freshness is lost
as in the forgotten hermitage to chance.
There I see you and the words remain,
the light of the day goes through the leaves
of the narrow path to the shore,
where the slow river our names were.
Of that love so silent and sincere,
only rumours are heard in the distance,
our footsteps lost on the pavement.
From the fountain to the square there is a path
where my soul sleeps with your love,
a path that keeps the divine silence.