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— Wang Wei Fresh rain washed the mountains bare, Autumn permeates evening air. Among pine trees bright moonbeams peer; Over crystal stones flows water clear. Bamboos whisper of washer-maids; Lotus stirs when fishing boat wades. Though fragrant spring may pass away, Still here’s the place for noble souls to stay.
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–Meng Haoran For miles and miles I sail and float; High famed mountains are hard to seek. By riverside I moor my boat, Then I perceive the Censer Peak. Knowing the Monk Yuan’s life and way, I love his solitary dell. His hermitage not far away, I hear at sunset but the bell.