ancient style poetry
That matter,
即事
Fei Chen
Tsui Ming Hill wet smoke mask, knowing about the spring back to the drizzle. Liu did not even shades of the new green, Xiao-Tao newly sprung in superficial, deep red. Yan pond owned by curtains of cold, people come to nothing static swing homes. White-lined clothing Qing Han chilly, at the present Huaxin repeated wind.
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