Arafed pagoda in a field of crops at sunset
I have some hidden stories. Dare to hear them?
Outside the long pavilion, on the side of the ancient road, the grass is blue. The evening breeze blows the sound of the willow flute, and the sunset is outside the mountain. The end of the sky, the corner of the earth, the acquaintance is half scattered. A spoonful of turbid wine is all over the joy (1), farewell to the cold tonight.
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Outside the long pavilion, on the side of the ancient road, the grass is blue.
The evening breeze blows the sound of the willow flute, and the sunset is outside the mountain.
The end of the sky, the corner of the earth, the acquaintance is half scattered.
A spoonful of turbid wine is all over the joy (1), farewell to the cold tonight.
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