ancient style poetry
in the mountains
山中
Fang Yue
No wonder, then also migrate the old man on the mountain, bamboo hut all day, a group of Po.
Million as silent as word million, one hundred million poor with technology is stupid.
Past from shaking bold, almost poetic air to be twisted into the snow.
Death does not worry about no clothes-year-old brown, purple Watchman Wu Feng-day charts.
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