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草长莺飞的三月 正是泥土发痒的初春 江畔有年轻的竹林 沿着湿漉的清明路一起走过 走进我幽香的梦境—— 水墨画一样又淡又浓的风景 我不敢回头 怕目光被黄昏的风捉去 树林后面是阴阴的云影 我不敢倾听 怕听到机械伐木的声音 河水都流走了 但每一条波纹却永远闪光 倒映桥头因企
March grass is flying long grass is itchy spring early spring, the river has a young bamboo walk along the wet Ching Ming Road into my sweet dreams - the same ink and light and thick scenery I dare not turn back Fear of the evening was caught in the dusk of the wind to catch the shadow of the shade of the clouds I can not listen to the fear of hearing the sound of mechanical logging rivers flow away but every ripple is always flashing reflection bridge