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The sight of a robin, alit on a tree branch

Before it startles and flies away, or

That of the endless sky, filled with stars,

So vast that we are grains of sand

Beneath its universal current,

So untouchable that it was

Long before us, and will be

Long after. Which do we choose

To capture? What ink can do justice

To a sky full of stars, to a bird

Full of song?

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