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On the upper stream of the winding Yellow River,At the window on the westward (?)ain,It is a quiet summer night in northwest China,A moonlit night on the great plateau.Lights are spaikling overhead like flying glowwoimsMountains are flashing by like volling liveis.At this moment the singing in the (?)ain has ceasedAnd a baby has fallen into a deep sleep in its mother’s aims
On the upper stream of the winding Yellow River, At the window on the westward (?) Ain, It is a quiet summer night in northwest China, A moonlit night on the great plateau .ights are spaikling overhead like flying glowwoimsMountains are flashing by like volling liveis.At this moment the singing in the (?) ain has ceasedAnd a baby has fallen into a deep sleep in its mother’s aimsA