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The years are so mottled that people cannot see clearly the last trace of color before dawn. I have never bathed in the tenderness of spring breeze, nor have I experienced the tenderness of summer lotus. There is no tender age, nor is there the evanescent youth. Maybe many people like me don't dedicate their youth to the years, but dedicate their years to their youth. Maybe you will indulge in those unforgettable years, maybe you have thought of yourself who looked like yourself alone under the blue sky. ...