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–Mao Zedong – 1961 Above Mount Jiuyi, white clouds fleet and fly,The imperial maidens ride the wind down from the sky.A speckled bamboo branch holds a thousand tears, nigh;Ten thousand rosy clouds form a hundred layers high.
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— Wang Wei Dismounted, I drink with you And ask what you’ve in view. “I can’t do what I will; So I’ll do what I will; I’ll ask you no more, friend, Let clouds drift without end!”