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Spring Days in Idleness
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The Ill-Fortuned House
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I Read Yüan Ninth's Poem Mourning His Deceased Wife and Wrote This to Send to Him
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The True path is shadowy and still, far away and hard to find
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So much to ask, / so hard to ask it
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Wait for moonlight
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Water to draw
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Idle Droning
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Ten years in the brothels — hard to wear out desire
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They Say You're Staying in a Mountain Temple
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