作者：佚名
A Stroll in Spring --Wei Zhuang
As I take a stroll in springtime,
My hair is covered with floating apricot blossoms.
Oh, whose son is he, at the yonder roadside,
That perfectly handsome young man?
I wish to marry myself to him, through life,
Even though he might ungratefully desert me,
I would not be ashamed.
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