A walk in the empty mountain valley.
In the harsh winter, the empty mountain valley, a stream of water flowing into the valley eastboud. Cold and icy on the bands, but the water is still strong, the sound of gurgling, diffuse empty valley entirely.
Gone the bird and the people, the mountains are empty and covered with snow, the traveler is alone, and I am the only one in the world. Pathos without heart, silent without knowledge, do not know the way ahead, do not ask the way back.
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