“When my homeland crumbles to ashes, but it is still light and beautiful outside, the bird's wings will spread over me, like a blue skirt and his voice will sound, sounds like the mother's.
But he knows no mercy, he rages in hatred. Through his eyes he looks for the survivors, in each of its feathers he is whole; he will dance with me around the fire!
But I am mute and quieter than silence. So I am already between the worlds – the spirit and the ancestors.
My head is empty and without new question, just like my heart beats now in new strokes"
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