Miscellanies of the Year 1839（V）

My parting grief is boundless when the sun sinks low;

Eastward I point my whip and far away I'll go.

The fallen blossoms are not an unfeeling thing;

Though turned to mud, they'd nurture flowers’ growth next spring.

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记得诵读该诗的中、英文版

否则无法报名哦！