Longzhou County (Chinese: t 龍州縣, s 龙州县, p Lóngzhōu Xiàn, w Lung-chou Hsien; Zhuang: Lungzcouh Yen) is a county of southwestern Guangxi, China, bordering Cao Bằng province, Vietnam. It is under the jurisdiction of the prefecture-level city of Chongzuo.
Longzhou lies in a circular valley at the junction of the Xun and Guijiang rivers.
Longzhou has a monsoon-influenced humid subtropical climate (Köppen Cwa), with short, mild winters, and long, very hot and humid summers. Winter begins dry but becomes progressively wetter and cloudier. Spring is generally overcast and often rainy, while summer continues to be rainy though is the sunniest time of year. Autumn is sunny and dry. The monthly 24-hour average temperature ranges from 14.0 °C (57.2 °F) in January to 28.2 °C (82.8 °F) in July, and the annual mean is 22.21 °C (72.0 °F). The annual rainfall is just above 1,300 mm (51 in), a majority of which is delivered from June to August. With monthly percent possible sunshine ranging from 16% in February and March to 50% in September, the county receives 1,583 hours of bright sunshine annually.
Longzhou primarily refers to Longzhou County (龙州县), Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, People's Republic of China.
Longzhou may also refer to:
If language were liquid
It would be rushing in
Instead here we are
In a silence more eloquent
Than any word could ever be
These words are too solid
They don't move fast enough
To catch the blur in the brain
That flies by and is gone
Gone
Gone
Gone
I'd like to meet you
In a timeless, placeless place
Somewhere out of context
And beyond all consequences
Let's go back to the building
(Words are too solid)
On Little West Twelfth
It is not far away
(They don't move fast enough)
And the river is there
And the sun and the spaces
Are all laying low
(To catch the blur in the brain)
And we'll sit in the silence
(That flies by and is)
That comes rushing in and is
Gone (Gone)
I won't use words again
They don't mean what I meant
They don't say what I said
They're just the crust of the meaning
With realms underneath
Never touched
Never stirred
Never even moved through
If language were liquid
It would be rushing in
Instead here we are
In a silence more eloquent
Than any word could ever be
And is gone
Gone
Gone