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By Huilan
Spring wears green leaf garments
But by the time I recognize the chill
My heart is already senile
The fluttering green leaves
Remind the birds to go home
I don’t know why but I cry
I want the tree branches to surround me
So that I won’t feel the cold
However, the string of the zither has broken
My ice-bounded heart has withered
It became brittle and numb
And the only property I can squander now
Is a scar, and only a scar
Is the spring coming
I haven’t seen it yet