Sharp wind, towering sky, apes howling mournfully; untouched island, white sand, birds flying in circles. Infinite forest, bleakly shedding leaf after leaf; inexhaustible river, rolling on wave after wave. Through a thousand miles of melancholy autumn, I travel; carrying a hundred years of sickness, I climb to this terrace. Hardship and bitter regret have frosted my temples-- and what torments me most? Giving up wine!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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