the autumn leaves have not yet fallen - no, the leaves are yet of the waning August: colourless, spent of all summer's passion. and so, too, have my skin grown grey. my enthusiam emptied, my love betrayed. snow. i yearn for snow, whose innocent whiteness may, for a second, cloak my dark complexion. yet it's not yet autumn --- i sigh upon the last sigh of summer, the leaves think they are still gay. -- -- 乱山残雪夜，孤独异乡人 -- --

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