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–Mao Zedong, October 1955 The spring river vast and wide awhile doth stray;We climb tiered peaks, our vision cleared, far away.Wind from green isles bears surging waves astray;Rain from wild fields ascends the hills to stay.By wine cups, we laugh and talk – old friends still gay;Abroad, trivial strife like chicken–worm fray.Mourn not how…