L'onda dal mar divisa

Water from Ocean divided
Bathing the Valley and Mountain,
Whether flying
In the river
Or imprisoned
In the fountain
Flows ever murmuring and sighing
Until it returns to the sea:
To the sea whence at first it arose,
Where its cares and its murmurings cease,
To the sea, where it hopes to repose
From all it's long wanderings in peace!
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Pietro Metastasio
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