"A Cut of Plums, Yesterday's East Wind Seems to Return" Yesterday's East Wind Seems to Return. The lights and shadows are red, and the green curtain is low.

The sound of the piano is delivered at night, and the tenderness of a dream is two eyebrows. The chronological order is counted to make changes. The smoke and rain come from the south, and the same acacia is stationed.

The fluttering rain has passed through the bamboo branches, admiring the beauty, and the end of the cape.

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