What are the modern poems?

Snow falls on the land of China

Snow falls on the land of China,

The cold is blocking China ...

The wind,

closely follows

stretches out cold fingers

tugs at the skirts of pedestrians,

uses your land as old as

.

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 like your life

.

Snow has fallen on the land of China,

The cold is 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,

Who is sitting with his head down

?

-Ah, you

unkempt little woman,

Is your home

-that nest of happiness and warmth

has 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:

The cold is blocking China ...

In those areas gnawed by the bonfire,

countless land cultivators

lost their livestock

lost their fertile fields

crowded into the dirt lane of despair

life;

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,

Cold is blocking China ...

China,

Can my feeble poem

written at night without lights give you some warmth?

-----------.

Yes,

The north is sad.

The desert wind blowing from outside the Great Wall

has swept away

the greenness of life in the north

and the brilliance of time,

-a dim grayish yellow,

covered with a layer of sand fog that cannot 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 deserted graves,

all covered with earthy melancholy ...

lonely pedestrians,

leaning forward

covering their cheeks with their hands,

in the sand <

They bear the

painful weight of the land,

they are tired of walking,

they tread slowly on the

long and lonely road in the north ...

Those small rivers have dried up long ago

The bottom of the river has been painted with cars,

the land and people in the north

.

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 bitterness,

fleeing from this desolate region,

fleeing to the south of the green-shaded sky ... <

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 I

, a traveler from the south,

love this sad northern country.

The blowing sand on my face

and the cold air to my bones

never made me curse;

I love this sad land.

It is a boundless desert.

It also arouses my reverence:

-I saw

our ancestors

leading the sheep,

attacking the flute,

immersed in the dusk of this desert ...

We were treading.

For thousands of years

They fought against nature here

,

They never suffered humiliation once to defend the land,

They died

and left us the land-

I love this sad land,

its vast and barren land.

I love this sad land

ancient land.

This land has nurtured

the hardest

and oldest race in the world that I love.

-----------. I。

The pond in winter,

Lonely as an old man's heart-

A bitter heart that has lived through the world;

In winter, the pond is

as dry as an old man's eyes-

It has been worn away by hard work;

The pond in winter is

as barren as an old man's hair-

as sparse and gray as frost grass

The pond in winter is

as gloomy as a sad old man-

An old man hunched under a gloomy sky.

-----------. And silence

From this foothill to that foothill

resounds

the sadness of the people in the north

On the day when the snow and ice are frozen

Between poor villages

Trolley

depicts the deep ruts on the gray loess layer

across the vast and desert with a single wheel. ---------------.

I saw a shining thing.

It inspired my heart like the sun.

It had a heavy rumbling sound on the horizon.

It roared and rolled ...

I was fascinated by it and cheered!

When I heard

from the side of the snowy mountain where the clouds were pressing, there came the rolling sound of a huge ship on an uneven road

like the bridegroom who went to the wedding ceremony

-even though I knew that what it brought me

was not a festival carnival

and laughter

on some juggling ground, it was a more cruel sight than a thousand slaughterhouses, < p!

I'm not weak-I'm not complacent,

I'm not someone who can comfort or deceive myself

I'm not satisfied with what the world has given me

-no matter the honor, Whether it's shame

, gloomy gaze, hatred like night

and happiness that people's eyes shine 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 greater slander. And a more deadly blow-

all because I want to rise from the deep ditch of time ...

Without an individual, the pain 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 the 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 surprised

I love it more than anything I have ever loved

for its arrival, I am willing to give my life

to it from my inner body to my soul

I look so humble in front of it

I even want to lie on my back on the ground

Let its feet step on my chest like a road

-----------------------.

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 fire,

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 for your sons,

After you wrapped the children's hands cut by the firewood knife, <

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 touch the furniture carved with red paint,

I touch the golden pattern on my parents' bed,

I stare blankly at the plaque of "Happy Family" I don't recognize,

I touch the silk and shell buttons of the newly changed clothes,

I look at my unfamiliar sister in my mother's arms,

I sit on the painted one. 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'm busy cutting candy for him.

For him, I often go quietly to her home near the village.

For him, I go to her and call "Mom",

Dayan River, and stick his red and green Guan Yunchang

on the wall beside the stove.

Dayan River,

.

Dayanhe once had a dream that can't be told to people:

In the dream, she was eating her baby's wedding wine,

sitting in a splendid ceremony,

and her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately called her "mother-in-law"

.............................................................................

Dayanhe died before her dream woke up.

When she died, the breast was not at her side.

When she died, her husband, who used to beat and scold her, also shed tears for her.

Five sons all cried sadly.

When she died, she whispered the name of her breast,

Dayanhe, who was dead.

When she died, the breast was not at her side.

Dayan River, tearful!

With the bullying of more than forty years' human life,

with the misery of countless slaves,

with a coffin of four dollars and a few bundles of straw,

with a few feet of land for burying coffins,

with the ashes of paper money in one hand,

Dayan River, she left in tears.

This is what Dayanhe doesn't know:

Her drunken husband has died,

The eldest son became a bandit,

The second one died in the smoke of gunfire,

The third, fourth and fifth

And I, I am writing a spell to give this unfair world.

When I returned to my hometown after a long drift,

I was on the mountainside.