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In the high sea the wind navigates |
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guided by the albatross: |
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that is the ship of the albatross: |
| crossing, descending, dancing, rising, |
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suspended in the dark light, |
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he touches the towers of the wave, |
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he nests in the boiling mortar |
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of the unruly element |
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while the salt decorates him |
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and the frenetic foam whistles, |
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the albatross slips flying |
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with his large wings of music |
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leaving over the storm |
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a book that continues flying: |
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it is the codex of the wind. |