"He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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澜庭拉尔特
2025-05-11 12:35
黎祥明
2025-05-10 11:51
孙小白
2025-05-11 08:28
3301和她的蝉
2025-05-11 09:56
泽钦
2025-05-11 07:22