Introduction: Ai Qing's discussion on the aesthetic standards of the content and form of modern poetry has greatly promoted the standardization and modernization of China's new poetry. The following is a collection of poems compiled by Ai Qing, a famous modern poet, for your reference. A wheelbarrow
in the area where the Yellow River flows
at the bottom of countless dry rivers
The wheelbarrow
sends out a shrill sound that makes the gloomy sky convulse
buds through the cold and silence
from this foot of the mountain to that foot of the mountain
resounds
the people in the north.
between poor villages
wheelbarrows
depict deep ruts on the gray loess layer with a single wheel
across the vast and desert
from this road
to that road
interweave
the sadness of the people in the north
The poet on the Kerqin grassland in the north
. The north is sad. ?
Yes,
The north is sad.
The desert wind blowing from the Great Wall
has swept away
the green of life in the north
and the brilliance of time,
? A dull gray-yellow,
covered with a layer of sand fog that can't be uncovered;
That day, the roaring that rushed by,
brought terror,
frantically
swept through the desert of Yuan Ye
frozen in the cold wind of October;
villages,
ancient cities,
hillsides,
riverbanks,
crumbling walls and barren graves,
are all covered with earthy melancholy?
a lonely pedestrian,
leaning forward
covering his cheeks with his hands,
struggling to breathe in the sand,
struggling to move forward step by step
?
how many donkeys
? That beast with sad eyes and tired ears,
bears the heavy burden of pain of the land,
their weary footsteps,
treads slowly
on the long and lonely road of the northland?
Those rivers have dried up long ago.
The bottom of the river has been painted with cars.
The land and people in the north
are longing for
the flowing spring that nourishes life!
Dead trees
and low-rise houses are
sparsely
darkly
scattered under
a gloomy sky;
In the sky,
there is no sun,
only the wild geese that form a large group
are in confusion,
flapping their black wings,
calling out their anxiety and misery,
fleeing from this desolate region,
fleeing to the south of the green-shaded sky?
the north is sad;
The Yellow River in Wan Li
is surging with turbid waves,
pouring disaster and misfortune to the vast north
;
And the wind and frost of the 198s,
depict
poverty and hunger in the vast north.
and me
? This traveler from the south
loves this sad north country.
The blowing sand on my face
and the cold air to my bones
never made me curse;
I love this sad land.
It's a boundless desert.
It also arouses my reverence:
? I saw
our ancestors
leading the sheep,
attacking the flute,
immersed in this desert dusk?
In the
ancient
soft loess layer we are stepping on,
the bones of our ancestors are buried,
? This land was cultivated by them.
It has been thousands of years.
They fought against the nature that hit them here.
They have never been humiliated once to defend the land.
they died
and left us the land?
I love this sad land,
its vast and barren land,
brings us simple words
and broad gestures,
I believe: these words and gestures
live strongly on the earth and
will never perish;
I love this sad land
ancient land.
This land has nurtured
the hardest
and oldest race in the world that I love. Chapter 3 Snow falls on the land of China
Snow falls on the land of China,
Is the cold blocking China?
The wind,
like a sad old woman,
closely follows
stretching out cold fingers
tugging at the skirts of pedestrians,
using your land as old as
without stopping?
That farmer from China,
driving a carriage,
wearing a fur hat,
braving the heavy snow
where are you going?
Tell you
I am also a descendant of farmers?
Because of your
wrinkled faces full of epilepsy
I can
know
the hardships of people living on the grassland
so deeply.
and I
am not happier than you
? Lying on the river of time
the waves of suffering
have swallowed me up and rolled me up several times?
vagrancy and imprisonment
have lost the most precious days of my youth,
my life
is as haggard as yours
.
Snow falls on the land of China.
Is the cold blocking China?
along the river on a snowy night,
a small oil lamp is moving slowly,
the light is reflected in the broken awning boat,
and who is sitting with his head down
?
? Ah, you
unkempt little woman,
is it
your home
? Has the nest of happiness and warmth
been burned down by a violent enemy
?
Isn't it
like this night,
without the protection of men,
in the horror of death
you have been teased by the enemy's bayonet. 7
Well, in such a cold night,
countless
our elderly mothers,
like foreigners
don't know tomorrow.
? And
the roads in China
are so rugged and
so muddy.
Snow falls on the land of China:
Is the cold blocking China?
In those areas gnawed by bonfires,
countless land cultivators
lost their livestock
lost their fields
crowded into the dirt lanes of despair
living;
The hungry earth
reaches out to the dark sky
and reaches out to beg for help
with trembling arms.
The pain and disaster in China
It's as vast and long as this snowy night!
Snow falls on the land of China.
Is the cold blocking China?
China,
Can my feeble poem
written at night without lights give you some warmth? In the Fourth Age,
I stood under the low eaves,
I looked at the wild hills
and the high and open sky with ecstasy,
I felt something miraculous in my heart for a long time,
I saw a shining thing
It inspired my heart like the sun,
There was a heavy rumbling sound on the horizon,
There was a storm.
I am fascinated by it and cheer! ?
When I heard
from the side of the snowy mountain where the clouds were pressing, there was the bumpy rolling sound of the huge wheel on the uneven road
like those grooms who went to the wedding
? Even though I know that what it brings to me is not the carnival of the festival, nor the laughter on the juggling field, it is a more cruel sight than a thousand slaughterhouses, but I still rush to it with the enthusiasm that a life can exert.
I'm not weak? I will not be complacent,
I am not the one who can comfort or deceive myself
I am not satisfied with what the world has given me
? Whether it's honor, shame
, gloomy gaze and night-like hatred
and people's eyes shining with happiness because of it
I feel empty in places you don't know
Give my life to the world
I will always stretch my arms
I ask to climb mountains
I ask to cross the sea
I want to meet higher praise and more.
all because I want to rise from the deep ditch of time?
the pain without a person will be worse than mine?
I am loyal to and dedicated to the times, but I am silent
unwilling, like a captured prisoner
silent before being taken to the execution ground
I am silent. In order not to have enough loud words
like thunder in early summer rolling through the cloudy sky
to express my passion to my wild cry
to dedicate myself to what makes me so excited and so surprised
I love it more than everything I have ever loved
I am willing to give my life
to it from my inner body to my soul
to it for its arrival. My nanny
Dayanhe is my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born.
She is a child bride.
Dayanhe is my nanny.
I am the son of the landlord;
He is also the son of Dayan River who grew up eating the milk from Dayan River.
Dayanhe raised her family by raising me,
and I was raised by eating your milk,
Dayanhe, my nanny.
Dayan River, today I saw the snow, which reminded me of you:
your grave covered with grass under the pressure of snow,
the dead wafei at the eaves of your closed former residence,
your garden with a square foot pawned,
the mossy stone chair in front of your door,
Dayan River. Today I saw the snow, which reminded me.
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me;
After you set up the stove,
After you swatted off the charcoal ash from the apron,
After you tasted that the rice was cooked,
After you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,
After you mended the clothes torn by the thorns on the hillside of your sons,
After you wrapped the children's hands cut by the firewood knife,
After you strangled the lice on the husbands' shirts one by one,
After you picked up the first egg today,
You held me in your arms with your thick palm and touched me.
I am the son of the landlord.
After I ate all the milk from your Dayan River,
I was taken back to my home by my parents who gave birth to me.
ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?
I'm a new guest in my parents' house!
I touched the furniture carved with red paint,
I touched the golden pattern on my parents' bed,
I stared at the eaves that I didn't recognize? Family fun? On the plaque,
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my newly changed clothes,
I looked at my unfamiliar sister in my mother's arms,
I sat on a painted kang stool with a fire bowl,
I ate rice that had been ground for three times,
But I was so embarrassed! Because I
I became a new guest in my parents' home.
Dayanhe, in order to make a living,
after she drained all her lotion,
she began to work with her arms that hugged me;
She washed our clothes with a smile on her face.
With a smile on her face, she went to the frozen pond at the edge of the village with a vegetable basket.
She cut radish with ice crumbs.
With a smile on her face, she took out the spent grains eaten by pigs.
She smiled and fanned the fire of the stew stove.
Dayan River, who loves her baby deeply;
In the New Year's Festival, I am busy cutting the candy of that winter rice for him.
For him, I often go quietly to her home at the edge of the village.
For him, I go to her and ask for help? Mom? ,
Dayan River, paste his red and green Guan Yunchang
on the wall beside the stove,
Dayan River will boast and praise her baby to her neighbors;