Li Bai Poem

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Cool is the autumn wind,
Clear the autumn moon,
The blown leaves heap up and scatter again;
A raven, cold-stricken, starts from his roost.
Where are you, beloved?-When shall I see you once more?
Ah, how my heart aches to-night-this hour!

The Ballads of the Fourseasons — Spring
Yuan Tan-Chiu of the East Mountain

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