--- license: apache-2.0 metrics: - perplexity pipeline_tag: text-generation --- Train in 30B Byte. Mode size 353M. Table 2 in [MambaByte](https://arxiv.org/abs/2401.13660) To use ``` import torch from mamba_ssm.models.mixer_seq_simple import MambaLMHeadModel import numpy as np model=MambaLMHeadModel.from_pretrained("JunxiongWang/MambaByte_Stories", device='cuda', dtype=torch.float32) text = "It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast." text_byte = np.frombuffer(text.encode('utf-8'), dtype=np.uint8) input_ids = torch.from_numpy(text_byte[None, :].copy()).long().cuda() sample = model.generate( input_ids=input_ids, max_length=2048, cg=True, return_dict_in_generate=True, output_scores=True, enable_timing=True, temperature=1, top_k=256, top_p=0.9, ) print(bytes(sample.sequences[0].tolist()).decode('utf-8')) ``` Output ``` It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. It had been a warm summer , but the ground was dry and cracked . The grass was like a great cloud , as deep as a city of ancient people . Strange to see a land with so few colors standing strong on the land ; but there it was , passing by in her dreams , the colors of flowers and grasses and birds . Of course , the old year was all a faded charcoal black , somewhat like the distant gloaming in the city where she lived . She seemed to be walking along the shore of a land that was no longer there . And indeed , at first it seemed as if there was another world there , a world inhabited by beings no one had ever seen before , who all consisted of flowers and small fish . And they were lovely people , but of whom had never the least idea of a love of anything or anyone before . They were neither fierce nor merciless , but deadly serious and bloodthirsty . Their deaths were against nature , and nature alone knew how to play tricks on those who opposed it . The living , the lived and dead , were all the same to the living ; the living ones were no more than living things whose deaths were inconceivable to them . Who could understand why the living were plagued by these men and women ? But at least the living were dead ; no doubt they would eat themselves to death in the end . The sun shone and the warmth of the day renewed its purity . The living were finally able to enjoy the refreshing waters that often flow from the spring . The sun shone brightly , and the air was filled with the scent of the flowers . But the flowers had no soul . They were cold and lonely , and would rather have died in the cold and the wet , than be with the living ones who were dead . Of course , this was no great loss , for the living could not take a death in the cold or the weather , for the living could only die by coldness . They were cold because they knew that no human being could take warmth and shelter from the cold of death . ```