After sunset, a breeze blew.
Awakened, I walked around.
A child knelt before me
and handed me your five-ideograph lines.
Your poem, alive as waves,
flowing as a fountain,
quickly healed my stagnant sickness.
I savored it, like a sorcerer's elixir.
I offered incense, poring over it again and again.
Since then, it has stayed with me.
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