风淅淅， 雨织织。 难怪春愁细细添。 记不分明疑是梦， 梦来还隔一重帘。
Red Jujube Nanlanshinde
Rustling
was the wind, On
and on went the rain. What
wonder, then if I was nipped at in the gloomy mood. I
had a vague memory of the dream uncertain After
my waking from the secret vision within the curtain.
（吴松林 译） |
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