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— Wu Rong You see your splendor gone with the wind disappear; You waft with resplendent feather from year to year. Your tears have dyed the flowers red in alien hill; But when spring comes to your garden, grass looks green still. Among the leaves, trees dark in rain long you stay; At moonset…
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— Du Mu A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Qingming Festival; The wayfarers’ hearts are going to break on their way. Where can a wine shop be found to drown his sad hours? A cowherd points to a cot amid apricot flowers.