˹صġѩ׷ɡ

    ˹أRobert FrostСѩ׷ɡһʫ緹ʱСͺ£

    ѩ׷

    ;һѻ

    ƮȻϡ

    ѩʷ׷ɣ

    ɼҽ

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    һǣ

    ǰࡣ

    Dust of Snow

    Some days feel buttoned on wrong. They start uncomfortably. They continue badly

    Then, sometimes, blessedly, in a moment all is changed.

    The way a crow

    Shook down on me

    The dust of snow

    From a hemlock tree

    Has given my heart

    A change of mood

    And saved some part

    Of a day I had rued.

    198911

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