Oh ! It seems that a century has been passed, but these green scented meadows are still lovely to me.

                           These mountains still raise themselves but bow to be acquainted to the people, the wandering souls that perhaps live  down the valley.

            The flurry snow embellishes the mountain tops. The steamed fog gracefully tread over the streams.

           The frosty nights are cloaked by the basking moonlight.

  Oh!!  I love the spirit of great hills.

The chirping of birds sings the secrets of the dark mountains.


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