Ages have passed to be replaced with the years of sorrow;
But springtime comes to refresh the colours of the things.
Mountain blossoms press a weeping flow from both sides,
While peaks and cliffs swing in dance with the blue mist.
Butterflies and bees, in their own way, speak of their joy;
As for the fish and birds, they are even more delightsome!
Roaming with my friend, my sentiments are not yet spent,
Till dawn I can't get a wink of sleep, wiping with my sleeve.
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