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Maybe it was predestined for me
To follow you through the forests
Muffled in gloom
Till the end of my days
To light my fire on the other side of the valley.
To dart off and run to your fire-place
In the morning
To touch with my face alder-trees
That are mute witnesses of embraces
Maybe there in gloomy edges of silence
I will follow you through the forests
Muffled in gloom
And look for your vestige in dewy grass
