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 Now the journey is ending,
the wind is losing heart.
Into your hands it's falling, a rickety house of cards.
The cards are backed with pictures displaying all the world.
You've stacked up all the images and shuffled them with words.
And how profound the playing that once again begins! Stay, the card you're drawing is the only world you'll win.

Poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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Book: Shattered Sighs