Poetry about glorifying steelworkers

I can't write it myself, someone else's

The sound doesn't go on

The lights don't go out

The walls stand up and I'm standing at the bottom of a pit

Who can't see that I'm covered in mud

Look at this

The water pistol and the mud pump

are my weapons

To spray like crazy.

Playfully sucking back

On my opposite side there's nothing but rotten mud

Here

Here the sun is not easy to understand

The river stinks, and it's no fun

Even if once in a while it becomes not stinky, or less stinky

The citizens have a huge blank space on their faces

especially when walking head-on the time

How hard it is to be rich

Buying insurance, pushing buttons, flying around

Here money, luck, and strength work

Here resentment doesn't

The fences are too high, and inside it's all filth and misery

Every day, every day, nerves are stretched tight and crumbling

The center of the square and the surrounded by flowers

and grass for who knows who

every day, every day, they, like us, need to be sprinkled

Big brother, at this time of year, cheating at the window of the train station

Second brother, who just pried open the door of someone's house

Third brother, who got married a year ago, and gave birth to a black child

Fourth brother, in yonder brick house, lost his last Ten bucks

Fifth brother gets blasted out by security guards and curses and spits at them from a long way off

Sixth brother's paychecks are how many months in arrears

(this useless, ugh, honest man)?

At night they drink ......No tomorrow

The streets are getting wider and brighter

The suits are getting cheaper and cheaper, and they come with ties

That despairing, ah, stacked shelves of supermarkets

And in the corners of the grey where you turn away and don't look

The good life is like a cold wind that chases the poor

The first sister works 365 days a year

The second sister doesn't cry, even though she just lost her finger to a machine

The third sister can read and write, so what?

The fourth sister has followed a rich man and isn't doing too badly

The two youngest sisters will be left alone

One is standing across the street, wondering what to do

The other has long since lost her whereabouts

The only thing that's less rough here is the sun

Between the dormitory building and the factory building

Only the rain and the snow are less cold

Between the ruins and the construction sites

Some people sing on TV and keep

laughing and laughing and clapping

Some people laugh along as if it's funny ......

And no matter what we have to survive

Not at all Strange that this winter will be so cold

Just like our hometown, the abandoned

Endless land ......

Hammer

Black Horse

Hammer will never know gentleness

Practicing tenacity with its whole life

It tells itself. :

Good metal is hidden in

The hardest stone

Once struck, sweat flies

The mind that grips tightly chisels the sunlight

Searching becomes the ceaseless song of life

"Clang, clang, clang . ."

The most beautiful language in the hammer's life

A machine grows old

Hao Maojun

A machine grows old

It is disobedient, and it will

treat us with temperaments we are not used to

But it is innocent

But it is innocent.

But it's innocent

Just like my grandfather

Can't do a thing and is deaf, dumb and paralyzed

The anger in his eyes burns everyone

As if it's all our fault

His silence

is actually the greater confrontation

My father and I, in the long hours of time

carefully fed him his food and the confidence to live

A machine grows old

It's not the machine itself that's more thorny

It's the fact that we've become skeptical of our own habits

A machine grows old

including your body and mine

Stop and think about it for a moment

No one would want a machine to to have a problem

even if we don't need it anymore

Leaving it intact

We'd be in an open and soothing mood

My grandfather has long since become a thing of the past

Occasionally alive in some of my memories

Why the centrifuge betrays the

rope

It has been Neglected, controlled by the inverter

It suddenly emits a series of gases

Like a man who hems and haws a few times

Then turns into a sloth who does nothing

I suspect it's a sinister fellow

I suspect it understands politics

Now its casing burns with the signs of a fevered mind

The electrician frowns, stays up all night, eyes red. He frowns, he's been up all night, his eyes are red and swollen

Measurement gauge in hand, he's careful, he yawns

Plungs his buttocks into the chair

He closes and pulls the switch down, closes and pulls it down

He winks happily and says, "I've got to go to bed"

The centrifuges must be getting another co-conspirator

The whole production line is in mutiny

It doesn't move, it doesn't move, it doesn't move.

It doesn't move, it doesn't say a word

Now no one dares to underestimate it

It slices off a piece of time like a leader

Chewing a piece of brown bread

Symphony of Steel

Wu Lanbao

I

With the steel

Feeling the sadness of the symphony

It isn't a symphony, it's a symphony. p>

It's not bleak

Two

The breeze comes from all sides

Blowing the verses

I hear

The notes of steel

Echoing in it

Three

As a steel-roller

Every day and

Steel symphony

Connected with steel p>

Connected as one

Not separated

Five

Like a blade of grass

Rooted in this land

Like a cloud

Embracing this sky

Though it's barren

Six

Steel

It's a gigantic picture

This is a huge picture One in 1.3 billion

I

shoulder

this burden

enjoy this

spurring

seven

Steel melts away sadness

nine

An arm

woven in steel

becomes an everlasting memory

An armful of blood

spilled into the steel

flying out a charming melody

They are the most moving part of the symphony of steel

Thinking of them

These who died of work-related injuries

My lines of poetry

will bring me tears of passion

Eleven

On the Steel

Close to the blue sky

Because of the height of steel

On steel

Acacia memories

Because of the five thousand years of hardship

Long way

Thirteen

My father gave everything for steel

I took over my father's position

From the far countryside

Steel was my father's glory

My one milestone

I passed it with a solid stride

Spanning into another century-

Melting into a steel symphony on

A force

A pounding

A kind of clamor

A kind of glory ------