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STRAY BIRDS 165 pass in my mind like flocks of ducks in the sky.

I hear the voice of their wings.

166 canal loves to think that rivers exist solely to supply it with water.

167 world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs.

168 which oppresses me, is it my soul trying to come out in the open, or the soul of the world knocking at my heart for its entrance? [50]