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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