Snow falls on the land of China,
Cold is blocking China ah ......
The wind,
Like an old woman who is too sad
Follows closely
Stretching out the claws of the cold fingers
Tugging at the lapels of the pedestrians,
with a rambling ......
as old as your land
for a moment
that emerges from the forests,
driving the wagons of
your Chinese peasants,
with their leather hats
braving the the snow
Where are they going?
To tell you the truth
I, too, am descended from farmers--
Because of your
wrinkled faces etched with epileptic bitterness
I can so y
know
the
years
of the people who lived on the steppes of hardship.
And I
am no happier than you are
-Lying on the river of time
the waves of suffering
have several times engulfed me and swept me back up again-
Wandering and imprisonment
have lost the most precious days of my youth,
and my life
is as haggard as yours
Oh.
Snow is falling on the land of China,
The cold is blocking China,......
Along the river on the snowy night,
A small oil lamp is moving slowly,
The light is reflected in the tattered crow's boat,
with its head hanging down
Who sits there,
Who sits there,
Who sits there,
Who sits there,
Who sits there,
Which sits there? Who sits there?
--Ah, you
hairless and unkempt woman,
is it not
that your home
-the nest of happiness and warmth
has been burned down by a violent enemy
? >
Burned down?
Is it not true
that on such a night as this,
deprived of the protection of men,
in the horror of death
you have suffered from the play of the enemy's bayonets,
and ahem, on such a cold night as this one
countless
of our aged mothers,
like the foreigners, have been burned down? people
not knowing what journey tomorrow's wheels
will roll on?
-and
The roads in China
are so rough,
so muddy, ah.
Snow falls on the land of China:
The cold is blocking up the China O ......
Those territories that have been gnawed by the beacons,
numerous, the settlers of the land
lost the livestock they raised
lost the fertile fields they put fields
crowded in the filthy alleys of
life's despair;
the starving earth
reaches out to the shadowy sky
and extends its begging
trembling arms.
China's pain and disaster
is as vast and long as this snowy night!
Snow is falling on China's land,
Cold is blocking China, O ......
China,
Can my feeble verses
written on a lightless night
give you some warmth?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The North
The poet of the Kerchin grasslands
said to me:
< p>"The North is sad."Nice,
the north is sad.
The
desert winds blowing from beyond the Seychelles,
have swept away
the greenness of life in the north
with the light of the hour,
-a dull gray-yellow,
clouded with a layer of unraveling sandy fog;
The whistling of that day,
bringing terror,
madly
sweeping over the earth
desert wildernesses
frozen in the October wind;
villages,
ancient towns,
hill slopes,
riverbanks,
wrecked walls and Mounds,
all covered with earth-colored melancholy ......
Lonely pedestrians,
bending forward
covering their cheeks with their hands,
in the wind and sand
troubled to breathe,
step by step
struggling to Onward ......
A few donkeys
-beasts with sad eyes
and weary ears,
carrying the land's
painful weight,
Their weary feet,
slowly stepped over
the
long and lonely roads of the North ......
those creeks have long since dried up
the river bottom has been painted with car withdrawals,
the land and people of the North
are thirsting for
The flowing spring that nourishes life!
The dead forests
and low houses,
sparsely
and gloomily
dispersed
under the gray canopy;
in the heavens,
the sun was not to be seen,
only the geese in great flocks
frightened geese,
Calling out their uneasiness and misery,
Fleeing from this desolate region,
Fleeing to the
South, where the green shades of the sky are ......
The North is sad;
And the ten thousand miles of the Yellow River
rages with turbid waves,
pouring disasters and misfortunes on the vast north
;
and the frosts of the ages,
carve out
the
poverty and hunger of the vast north,
ah.
And I
-this traveler from the South,
but love the sad North.
The sandy winds
and the cold air in my bones
never made me curse;
I love this sad country,
and a boundless desert,
has aroused my veneration:
-I see
our ancestors
and I see
those of us who were born in the north.
Our ancestors
lead the flock,
attacking the reed flute,
immersed in the dusk of this desert ......
The
ancient
loose loam layer that we stepped on
buried with the skeletons of our ancestors,
ah!
The land they cleared,
thousands of years ago
they fought here
against the nature that struck them,
they defended it
and never once were they dishonored,
they died.
and bequeathed the land to us-
I love this sad land,
its vast and lean lands,
bringing us with simple words
and wide gestures,
and I believe that:
The words and gestures
Strong in the earth,
will never perish;
I love this sad land
O ancient land,
which nourished
that for my love
the hardest
and oldest race in the world.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The winter pools and marshes
For W. I.
The winter pools and marshes,
Lonely as an old man's heart-
Heart that has experienced the bitterness of the world;
The winter bog,
Dry as an old man's eye-
Eyes that have lost their light by toil;
The winter bog. p>The pond in winter,
deserted like an old man's hair-
thin and gray like frosted grass
The pond in winter,
gloomy like a sad old man-
< p>Old man hunched under a gloomy canopy.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Handcart
In the territory where the Yellow River flows
At the bottom of the countless dried-up rivers<
The handcart
With its only wheel
Makes a shrill sound that makes the gloomy vault of heaven spasm
Buds through the cold and silence
From this foot of the hill
To that foot of the hill
Thoroughly resounds the sorrow of the people of the North
On the days of the ice and snow
And in the poor hamlet to hamlet
wheelbarrows
with individual wheels
carved in deep ruts in the gray and yellow earth
through the expanse and the desert
from this road
to that one
intertwined
with the sorrow of the people of the North Country
------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Times
I stood under the low eaves
and gazed out at the savage hillocks
and the high and empty The sky,
and for a long, long time in my heart, as if I had felt some miracle,
I saw a glittering thing
which inspired my heart like the sun,
and came rumbling and rolling through the heavens with a heavy roar,
with a stormy roar
and... ...
I looked to it divinely and rejoiced! '
When I heard from the cloudy side of the snowy mountains
The rolling of the great wheels on the uneven road
Like the grooms who run to the wedding-plates
-Even though I knew that what it brought me
Was not a holiday revelry. festive revelry
and some vaudeville laughter
but a sight more cruel than a thousand slaughterhouses,
and yet I still ran to it
with as much zeal as a life could muster.
I am not weak - I am not complacent,
I am not one whom I can comfort or deceive myself
I am not content with that which the world has ever given me
- neither honor, nor Shame
and whether it be gloomy stares and night-like hatred
and the happiness with which men's eyes shine
I feel empty where you do not know
Give me the world to live in
I am forever stretching out my arms
I ask to climb the mountains
I ask to cross the sea
I will meet higher praises, greater slanders
More insoluble grievances, and more fatal blows-
All for the sake of the deep chasm of time I want to rise from ......
No more personal suffering will be be greater than mine -
I was faithful to the times, devoted to the times, and I was silent
unwillingly, like a captured prisoner
silent before being escorted to the execution ground
I was silent for the sake of not having words loud enough
Like the early summer's Thunder rolls across the cloudy sky
Shuffling my passion in my raging cry
Dedicated to that which excites me so much and surprises me so much
I love it more than anything I've ever loved
For it to come I would deliver my life
Delivered to it from my inward body up to my soul
I look so humble in front of it
Even want to lie on my back on the ground
Let its feet tread over my chest like a road
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------
Dayan River - my nanny
Dayan River, is my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born,
She was a child bride,
Dayan River, is my nanny.
I am the son of a landowner;
and I grew up on the milk of the Dayan River
Son of the Dayan River .
Dayan River raised her family by raising me,
and I, who was raised on your milk,
O Dayan River, my nanny.
Dayan River, today I see the snow reminds me of you:
Your grass-covered grave pressed by snow,
The dead waffle on the gable end of your closed home,
Your yards square garden that has been seized,
The moss-covered stone chairs in front of your door,
Dayan River, today I see the snow reminds me of you. of you.
You took me in your arms and caressed me with your thick palms;
After you built the fire,
after you patted the charcoal dust from your apron,
after you tasted the rice cooked,
after you put the dark bowl of sauce on the dark table,
after you mended your sons' clothes torn by the thorns of the hillside,
after you mended your son's clothes torn by the thorns of the hillside,
after you mended your son's clothes torn by the thorns of the hillside,
and after you had taken me into your arms, you took me into your arms and caressed me.
After you had wrapped the hands of your youngest son who had been cut by a woodchipper,
After you had pinched the lice from your husbands' shirts, one by one,
After you had picked up the first egg of the day,
you took me in your arms with your big, thick palms and stroked me.
I am the son of a landowner,
After I have eaten all the milk of your great weir,
I am led back to my own home by the parents who bore me.
Ah, River Weir, why do you cry?
I have become a new guest in the house of my parents!
I touched the red lacquered and carved furniture,
I touched the golden pattern on my parents' bed,
I stared at the plaque on the gable top that I didn't recognize as "Heavenly Lunar Sympathy and Happiness",
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my new clothes,
I looked at the unfamiliar buttons on my mother's arms,
and I saw the new clothes on my mother's back. I looked at my unknown sister in my mother's arms,
I sat on a painted kangstool with a fire bowl,
I ate rice that had been polished three times,
but I was so coy! For I
was a new guest in the house of my parents who had given me birth.
The River Weir, for the sake of life,
After she had run out of her lotion,
she began to labor with the arms that had held me;
She washed our clothes with a smile,
She carried the basket of vegetables to the frozen pond at the edge of the village,
She chopped the turnip with a smile,
She cut the radish with the icy shavings,
.With a smile, she hollowed out with her hands the lees of the wheat that the pigs ate,
With a smile, she fanned the fire of the stove where the stew was being made,
With a smile, she carried the doughpan to the square
To dry the soybeans and the wheat,
Daianhe, for the sake of life,
After she had run out of her emulsion,
She carried me in her arms. And labored.
Da Yan He, who loved her breast child dearly,
was busy cutting the winter rice candy for his sake at the annual festival,
used to walk quietly to her house at the edge of the village for his sake,
came to her side and called out "Mom" for his sake,
Da Yan He, who painted him in a big red and green color,
had a great deal to say about his life. He drew a big red and green picture of Guan Yunchang
and put it on the wall beside the stove,
Da Yan He would boast to her neighbors about her breasts;
Da Yan He once had a dream she couldn't tell anyone:
In the dream, she ate her breast's wedding wine and
sat on the brilliantly colored hall,
while her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately called her "mother". And her dainty daughter-in-law affectionately called her "mother-in-law."
............
Dayan, who loved her breast, loved her dearly!
Da Yan He, who died before she woke up from her dream.
When she died, her breast was not beside her,
When she died, her husband, who usually scolded her, wept for her,
Five sons, each weeping sadly,
When she died, she softly called out her breast's name,
Dayanhe, who had died,
Died,
Dying, when she died, her breast was not beside her.
The Great Weir, with tears, went!
With the forty years of abuse of human life,
with the endless misery of slavery,
with a four-dollar coffin and a few bundles of straw,
with a few feet of ground where the coffin was buried,
with a handful of paper money ashes,
Dayanhe, she went away with tears in her eyes.
This is what Dayanhe does not know:
Her drunken husband is dead,
The eldest son has become a bandit,
The second died in the smoke of artillery fire,
The third, the fourth, and the fifth
And me, I am writing the spell given to this unjust world.
When I returned to my native land after a long drift,
in the hillsides, in the fields,
brothers met, it was with more intimacy than six or seven years ago!
This, this is for you, the quietly sleeping Dayan River
Unknown ah!
Dayan River, today your breast is in prison,
writing a hymn presented to you,
to your purple soul under the yellow soil,
to the straight outstretched hand with which you have embraced me,
to the lips on which you have kissed me,
to the gentle face with its mud-blackness,
to the breasts with which you have nourished me,
to the breasts with which you have raised me,
to the breasts of the river,
which are more intimate than they were seven years ago,
this is for you, the silent sleeping river Dayan.
To your breasts that nurtured me,
To your sons, my brothers,
To all that is on earth,
My weir-like nannies and their sons,
To the weir that loved me as her own son.
Dayan River, I grew up on your milk
your son
I honor you
and love you!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notice of the Dawn
For the sake of my prayers
Rise up, O poet
And tell them
that what they have been waiting for is coming
that I have come in the dew
by the light of the last star
I have come from the east
from the sea that is raging with the waves
and I will bring light to the world
and warmth to mankind
by your righteousness. p>By the mouths of your righteous men
Please carry my message
Notify mankind whose eyes are burned with longing
And the cities and villages far away that are steeped in misery
Ask them to come and welcome me
Herald of the day, bearer of the light
Open all the windows to welcome
Open all the doors to Welcome
Please sound your siren to welcome
Please blow your horn to welcome
Please ask the scavengers to clean the streets
Please ask the porters to remove the garbage
Let the laborers walk the streets with a wide stride
Let the vehicles flow through the squares in a brilliant procession
Please ask the villages to wake up from the damp fog as well
Open their hedges to welcome meAsk the village women to open their chicken coops
Ask the peasants to bring their oxen from the barn
Lend your warm mouths to inform them
That I have come from over the mountains and over the forests
Ask them to clean the sunny yards
And the ever-dirty patios
.Please open the windows that are papered with flowers
Please open the doors that have spring scrolls on them
Please wake up the attentive women
and the men who snore
Please wake up the young lovers too
and the sleepy maidens
Please wake up the sleepy mother
and the babies by his side
Please Wake up everyone
even the sick and those in labor
even the aged
those groaning in their beds
even the wounded in wars of justice
and the refugees displaced by the fall of their homeland
Please wake up all the unfortunate
I will give them comfort all together
Please awaken all the unfortunate
I will give them comfort all together
Please awaken everyone who loves life. Wake up all those who love life
Workers, craftsmen, and painters
Wake up the singers with their songs
With the sound of the grass and the dew
Wake up the dancers with their dances
With their morning coats of mist
Wake up those who are healthy and beautiful
To say that I'm coming to knock on their windows
I will give them comfort. windows
Please be faithful to the poet of time
Bring tidings of comfort to mankind
Please prepare them for a welcome, please prepare all for a welcome
I will come when the rooster crows for the last time
Ask them to gaze into the heavens with pious eyes
I will give the most gracious light to all who look to me
Tell them while the night is almost over
that what they are waiting for is coming
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To the The Sun
Morning, I awoke from my sleep,
and rejoiced at the sight of your light;
- though last night I was still sleepy,
and haunted by countless nightmares.
Your fresh, gentle, bright light,
shone on my long unopened window,
and painted the window-paper pale yellow as pollen,
and embedded it in a light blue and neat lattice of shadows,
and, filled with thankfulness in my heart, I arose from my bed,
and opened the door of the window, which had been shut for a winter,
and let thee bring the bright tablecloth, woven of all gold silk,
and spread it on my table by the window.
So, to my surprise, I saw you:
Such truth as brooks no doubt,
You stood on the top of the opposite mountain,
and smiled so brightly.
I opened my eyes hard to see you,
longing to capture your image,
how intense, how trance-like, how solemn!
Your light stings my pupils.
O Sun, thou immortal philosopher,
Thou bringest joy to the earth,
Even the most unfortunate sees thee,
and feels thy comfort in his heart.
You are the forge of time,
the gildersmith of the good life;
You cast the days into innumerable golden wheels,
which hover over the ancient wilderness ......
If it were not for thee, Sun,
all life would lie prostrate in the gloom,
Even if it had wings, it would only fly like a bat
in the eternal night.
I love you as men love their mothers,
You feed my ideas and thoughts with light and heat--
To make me live passionately and agonize for my ideals,
until my life is taken away by death.
After a long, lonely winter,
Today I want to go up to the top of the mountain,
dismiss my clothes, be naked,
and bathe my soul in your light ......
------------------------ --------------------------------------------------------
Fossilized fish
How lively the movements,
How energetic,
Leaping in the waves,
Floating in the sea;
Unfortunately encountering a volcanic eruption
or perhaps an earthquake,
you lost your freedom,
and were sorted into the dust;
after how many hundreds of millions of years,
the geological prospectors,
found you in the rock formations,
still lifelike.
But you are silent,
not even sighing,
scales and fins intact,
but unable to move;
you are absolutely still,
unresponsive to the outside world,
not seeing the sky or the water,
not hearing the waves.
Gazing at a piece of fossilized rock,
the fool also learns the lesson:
Leaving motion,
there is no life.
To live is to struggle,
to move forward in the struggle,
even in death,
the energy must be utilized cleanly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tiger shells
Beautiful tiger spots
Sparkling on you
What is What polished you to such a shine
What polished you to such a shine
Fineer than the finest china
Harder than white gems
Smooth and oval like a goose's egg
No pinprick of a scratch can be found
How many years at the bottom of the sea of despair
Rolling on ten thousand hectares of waves
All covered in armor of jade ___
protecting the most vulnerable of lives
If it weren't for the occasional wave that swept me onto the beach
I never thought I'd see such beautiful sunshine
----------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
Mutually Discovered
--Title "Changlin Diamonds"
The Treasure of Things and the Treasure of Heaven
People of Great Joy
< p>--Wang BoI don't know how many billions of years
Buried deep in the ground
Existence is the same as non-existence,
Even hope is stifled
A girl turns the ground deep
Suddenly she sees it jump out
The girl's eyes and the diamond
flashed at the same time
like flipping a switch
in a flash
the two kinds of light shone on each other
wondering at each other's beauty
the radiant diamond
was like a patch of yellowish sunlight
illuminating the land of the motherland
The teaser There are countless treasures underground
Bright diamond
No substance is harder than it
The girl contributes it to the country
Used to knock on the door of industry
The Changling brigade gets the diamond
Diamonds come to earth with brilliance
And even more brilliant than diamonds
is the girl's The idea of loving the motherland.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lost years
Unlike a lost bundle
can be found at the lost and found back,
Lost years
are not even known to have been lost somewhere -
there are those that have disappeared piecemeal.
Some are lost for ten or twenty years,
some are lost in noisy cities,
some are lost in distant wildernesses,
some are lost in crowded stations,
some are lost in the cold and quiet under small oil lamps;
lost is not like a piece of paper that can be picked up
rather, it is more like a bowl of water thrown to the the ground
dried up, not a shadow to be seen;
Time is a flowing liquid-
it can't be salvaged with a sieve or a net;
Time can't be made solid,
it'd be better if it were fossilized,
even if tens of thousands of years could be be found in rock formations i
Time is also like a gas,
like smoke rising from the head of a speeding train!
Lost years seem like a friend,
broken off, endured some suffering,
suddenly got the news; that he
had left the earth long ago
--------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------
Bonsai
Seem to be relics of antiquity
The plants here have become minerals
The main trunks are of bronze, and the boughs of the techniques are of iron wire
Even the leaves are the color of copper and green
In the antique garden
Winter does not cold in winter and heat in summer
With shelves of rosewood and mahogany
The prominence of their status is further demonstrated
In fact, they are the products of misfortune
Long ago, they lost their original color
In all kinds of pots
Suffered from suppression and aggravation
Every process of growth
There are The twisting of wires and the torture of knives and scissors
are at the mercy of others, unable to stretch freely
Partly developed, partly shriveled
by an imbalance of the standard
mutilated and typical,
like an old man with a rickety building,
boasting of strange deformities
some have pushed up their bellies,
some have revealed tuberous roots,
while others have been forced out.
Some have exposed their tuberous roots
leaving behind a few thin, curved branches
Sesame-sized leaves indicate that there is still youth
like a group of battle-hardened and wounded soldiers
supporting a crippled life
But all the flowers and trees
have to have their own heaven and earth
Roots absorb nutrients from the soil
Branches and leaves bear rain and sunlight
.
Branches and leaves bear the rain and sunlight
Free to stretch and develop normally
Moody under the sky
Accepting nature's caresses
Exuding their own fragrance
Nowadays, however, everything is turned upside down
The young ones become old, and the old ones become young
In order to satisfy the curiosity of the human beings
To boast of the flower breeder's Skill
Soft to bend and distort
Grass without words and axed
Maybe it's a kind of art
But written with a sneer at freedom
-------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------
For the female sculptor, Deti Zhang
From your fingers flows hair
Like the ebb and flow of waves
The forehead leaves the hardship of years
From your fingers flows eyes
With sad eyes
Lips pursed tight
From your fingers flows eyes
With sad eyes
Lips pursed tight
And from your fingers, you can see the beauty of the world, the beauty of the world. /p>
From your fingers flowed a me
With my breath
With my body heat
And I was silent
Perhaps it was unfortunate
I was prolonged by you
----------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
I love this land
If I were a bird,
I should also sing with a hoarse throat:
This storm-battered land,
This ever-raging river of our sorrows,
This ceaselessly blowing wind of agitation,
and the unmistakably gentle dawn from the forest ......
-and then I died,
and even my feathers rotted inside the land.
Why do I often have tears in my eyes?
Because I love the land so much ......
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
The sun
From the tombs of ancient times
From the dark ages
From yonder side of the stream of human death
Shocking the sleeping mountains
If the wheel of fire soars above the dunes
The sun rolls towards me ......
It breathes life into me with a light that is hard to hide
It makes the branches of the tall trees dance to it
I make the rivers run to it with wild songs
When it comes, I hear
The pupae of the winter hibernation turn underground
The crowds speak in loud voices in the open fields
The cities call to it from afar
with power and steel.
So my heart
is torn open by the hand of flame
The stale soul
is laid aside on the river's bank
I have the certainty of man's regeneration
----------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------
The Coal Conversation
--A-Y. R.
Where do you live?
I live in the mountains of ten thousand years
I live in the rocks of ten thousand years
Your age-
I am older than the mountains
Bigger than the rocks
From whence have you been silent?
From the time when dinosaurs ruled the forests
From the time when the earth's crust shook for the first time
Are you already dead in your deep resentment?
Dead? No, no, I am alive -
Please give me fire, give me fire!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Beggars
In the North
Beggars wander on both sides of the Yellow River
In the North
Beggars cry out in the most tiresome voices
Crying out in pain
Saying that they come from the disaster area
From the war zone
Starvation is horrible
It causes the old to lose their kindness
The young to learn hate
In the North
The beggar stares at you with stubborn eyes
Watching you eat any food
And the way you pick your teeth with your fingernails
In the North
The beggar stretches out his never-retracting hand
Ebony hand
Asked for a copper
To anyone
Even the soldier who can't spare a copper
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bridge
When land is divided from land by water,
When road and road were cut off by water,
wise men stood by the water:
and so arose the bridge.
Mankind, who suffer from trekking,
should be thankful for bridges.
The bridge is the link between land and land;
The bridge is the love between river and road;
The bridge is the way station where ships and vehicles nod their heads in salute;
The bridge is the place where the boat rider and the walker wave goodbye.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trees
Tree by tree, tree by tree
Lonely and detached from each other
The wind and the air
tell their distance
But under the earth
their roots grow
In the unseen depths
They tangle their roots together
.