This time, I translated the poems written in high school into English, and presented them with AI by the way.
Chubby, today’s wind, she just walked on the pleasant path in the end of spring with the simple smile hanging on the corner of her mouth, and the hem of her skirt is still full of sweet and mellow grass fragrance.
Lost, today’s wind, she has just walked quickly through the developing industrial area, her face is covered with dust from the burning of fossil fuels, and her body is slightly ill.
Too thin, today’s wind, she running through the urban jungle with an explosion of population, she looks sick.
The wind is dead today.
This wind looks a bit like a skunk or something, the style is Pierre-Auguste Renoir, I hope it didn’t scare everyone (Sorry
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