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— Wang Bo Soughing, the cool breeze blows; My wooded dell clean grows. It drives smoke off the rill, Rolls up mist over the hill, Leaves no trace when we part, And moves as if moved at heart. When sunset calms the scene, Hear the song of pines green.
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— Liu Zongyuan Over the islets disperse clouds of last night, The rising sun makes poolside village bright. A tall tree overlooks the water clear; Raindrops fall, startled by the wind severe. Unoccupied, my mind is just carefree; By chance the tree plays host to welcome me.
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— Bai Juyi West of Jia Pavilion and north of Lonely Hill, Water brims level with the bank and clouds hang low. Disputing for sunny trees, early orioles trill; Pecking vernal mud in, young swallows come and go. A riot of blooms begins to dazzle the eye; Amid short grass the horse hoofs can…