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发表于 2005-10-1 00:51 | 只看该作者回帖奖励

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I no longer have to do without now,
all colors are translated
into sounds and smells.
And they ring infinitely sweet
like tones.
why should I need a book?
The wind leafs through the tree;
and I know what passes there for words,
and sometimes repeat them softly.
And death, who plucks eye like flowers,
doesn't find my eyes...

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