Du Fu quite class . Du Fu of the laments of the

[2vt8c2p4]

Station,tods, also known as overturned Station , in this Guangyuan County, Sichuan North. Guan , Spring homogeneous phase, has assisted the Duke Chengjiubaye ; Leyi , Yan State during the Warring States champion ,dre beats, who has Yanzhao Wang rate Zhao, Chu , Han ,beats by dre, Wei, Yan Wuguo strong army big break Qi ,tods men, Liang Nanyang often with possession of seclusion , Music from the promises. 【 Brief 】
Contemplative written this poem , Du Fu quite class . Du Fu of the laments of the
Yin 【 Font: 】 hill housing 4534 birds hesitate to fear simply ape the book ,beats by dre, the situation often retaining reservoir Xu .
Act of God that will play pen , and finally go see the king passed down car .
The end does not honor talented Band ,tods shoes, Guan Zhang Yu He , such as non- life .
Kam years after his Temple , Liang Yin into hate more than the parent . 【 Note 】 chips pen
( Source :)



它微微拂起我此刻舒缓的心

but I offer him a Jet Airways

爱上陌生人


We were driving along the road from Treguier to Kervanda. We passed at a smart trot between the hedges topping an earth wall on each side of the road; then at the foot of the steep ascent before Ploumar the horse dropped into a walk, and the driver jumped down heavily from the box. He flicked his whip and climbed the incline, stepping clumsily uphill by the side of the carriage, one hand on the footboard, his eyes on the ground. After a while he lifted his head, pointed up the road with the end of the whip, and said--
"The idiot!"
The sun was shining violently upon the undulating surface of the land. The rises were topped by clumps of meagre trees, with their branches showing high on the sky as if they had been perched upon stilts. The small fields, cut up by hedges and stone walls that zig-zagged over the slopes, lay in rectangular patches of vivid greens and yellows, resembling the unskilful daubs of a naive picture. And the landscape was divided in two by the white streak of a road stretching in long loops far away, like a river of dust crawling out of the hills on its way to the sea.
"Here he is," said the driver, again.
In the long grass bordering the road a face glided past the carriage at the level of the wheels as we drove slowly by. The imbecile face was red, and the bullet head with close-cropped hair seemed to lie alone, its chin in the dust. The body was lost in the bushes growing thick along the bottom of the deep ditch.