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XXVII

Sung

Aucassin, the handsome, the blond,
the noble lover,
has come out of the deep woods
his love between his arms,
in front of him, on his saddle's pommel.
He kissed her eyes, her face,
her mouth and chin.
She asked him:
"Aucassin, my very dear friend,
what country will we go to?"
"My sweet friend, who knows?
It matters little to me where we go,
in a forest or a far-away place,
provided I can be with you."
They passed valleys and mountains,
villages and towns.
One day, they reached the sea
and went down onto the sand
along the shore.

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