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(1)走进飞翔的方向,看到远方蔓延的塔尔巴哈台神魔,在寂寞峡谷,挥舞着思想的利剑。季节的花朵,随意绽放,就成为生命的直线艺术——不想淹没。也没有崇高的舞蹈。幻梦之间,只是野狼的狂吠,在浅灰色岸边,一座废弃竹园,洒落一地破碎的经文。(2)——伫立片刻,巴克图对面的一只小鸟,像是影子,阐述着春天的痴迷。毫不介意国度的陌生。根部的形象,自然地展示灵魂的凝练。
(1) Into the direction of the fly, to see the Talia Bahata demon spread in the distance, in the lonely valley, waving the sword of thought. Seasonal flowers, free to bloom, it has become a straight line art of life - do not want to drown. There is no lofty dance. Between dreams, only the wild wolf barks, in the light gray shore, an abandoned bamboo garden, spilled a broken verse. (2) - Standing for a moment, a small bird across from Baktu, like a shadow, illustrates the spring obsession. Do not mind the strange country. The image of the root, naturally show the concise soul.