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GO(Yeats)OR֤HAۤFu^këv@֡A֤DLk୫߭׾iL~C


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As a follower of Yeats, I pray for you.
I wish I could pick a sparkle of wisdom from a Nebula,
Let it fuse into your sparkling eyes,
Dropping a tear for dust.
I wish a jade-like stream flowing from the Milky Way could seep through your
mouth.
Leave you sighing for boundless hell.

Someday you will sweep past an icy gaze and a painful smile in a Chinese ruin.
Someday you will come across a burning stream with righteous ardor,
exhaling five-thousand years of history.

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