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When the young sails dance against the rising sun, the wind, there is a song. The morning sun turned the earth golden like a wheat wave, and a running shadow was pulled to the elders. That shadow is called youth.

author:Happy Ink Boy

When the young sails dance against the rising sun, the wind, there is a song. The morning sun turned the earth golden like a wheat wave, and a running shadow was pulled to the elders. That shadow is called youth. We are not deserters. Even if this battle is lost miserably, we are still glorious in our defeat.

When the young sails dance against the rising sun, the wind, there is a song. The morning sun turned the earth golden like a wheat wave, and a running shadow was pulled to the elders. That shadow is called youth.
When the young sails dance against the rising sun, the wind, there is a song. The morning sun turned the earth golden like a wheat wave, and a running shadow was pulled to the elders. That shadow is called youth.
When the young sails dance against the rising sun, the wind, there is a song. The morning sun turned the earth golden like a wheat wave, and a running shadow was pulled to the elders. That shadow is called youth.

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