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后主在家国的汹涌波涛中悠悠唱起:“千里江山寒色远,芦花深处泊孤舟。”而渭水西风,断鸿声里,立不尽我盈满鹈鹕清泪的零落孤影;落日乱叶,诗情宛转,吹不翻我菰叶扁舟的遗世独立。谁能解?这屡变星霜的黯然。谁堪闻?我满腹东流的惆怅,竟郁结成寒夜里替人垂泪的红蜡一支。古人道:“谁能思不歌?谁能饥不食?”大概古今风人排遣不尽的闲愁苦恨,都倾注在流转的笔尖上了;大概江山
After the main home in the rough waves sang: “thousands of miles of mountains and cold colors, aloe deep berthing boat.” And the Wei River westerly, off Hong sound, the legislation I am full of pelican tears of gossip ; Sunset chaos leaves, poetry Wanzhu, blowing do not turn my 菰 leaves boat’s independence and independence. Who can solve? This repeatedly variable star cream sadly. Who knows? I am full of disconsolate, actually formed into a cold red night tears crying one. Ancients: “Who can not think of song? Who can eat?” Probably ancient and modern wind man exhausted endless idle bitterness, are pouring in the circulation of the tip; probably country