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The last dew on lotus timer sent away this year, while wine bottles were hanging in the green well.
Though chill still prevailed, messages of spring in the weeping willows that people could feel.
The beauties by my side kept toasting longevity, still my attention was on the early signs of verdure.
No acquaintances could share my intoxication with me, only the goddess of spring was my old fellow.
PS Today is not the very first day of 2023, though not in lunar calendar, I would like to share this relatively unpopular poem with you. Happy new year!
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