6 En
Tumbling down from the top of a mountain,
Sparkling and clear comes the grotto fountain.
Da
Dashing and splashing oer rocks and ridges
Gurgling memily under the bridges,
Kissing the flowers that grow on its brink
Violets blue and anemones pink-
Under the ferns and grasses hiding,
Out in the sunshine swiftly gliding
Down through the meadows winding around
Into the river it leaps with a bound.
- Anonymous