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— Li Bai All willow-down has fallen and sad cuckoos cry To hear you banished southwestward beyond Five Streams. I would confide no sorrow to the moon on high For it will follow you west of the Land of Dreams.
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— Song Zhiwen Ill, visited by none each day, I sigh for you’ll go far away. I cannot bid farewell to you. Let riverside tree say adieu! A hero may not serve till old; A poet’s drowned in river cold. The precious sword of Dragon’s Fountain Might still shine bright though in deep mountain.