剔尽寒灯梦不成，拥衾危坐到三更。 不知何处吹羌笛，落尽梅花月满城。
Written in Illness Zhu
Jing’an
Wide
awake, I trim the remaining wick of the cold lamp. With
a quilt over me, I sit up till midnight. Where
is the flute coming from? Plum
blossoms fall in a moonlight-washed town.
（Michelle Yeh 译） |
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