Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;
guó pò shān hé zài ,
And spring comes green again to trees and grasses
chéng chūn cǎo mù shēn 。
Where petals have been shed like tears
gǎn shí huā jiàn lèi ,
And lonely birds have sung their grief.
hèn bié niǎo jīng xīn 。
...After the war-fires of three months,
fēng huǒ lián sān yuè ,
One message from home is worth a ton of gold.
jiā shū dǐ wàn jīn 。
...I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin
bái tóu sāo gèng duǎn ,
To hold the hairpins any more.
hún yù bù shèng zān 。

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