Yanhe 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;
I also grew up eating milk from Dayan River.
Son of Dayanhe.
Dayan and I raised a family by raising me.
I grew up on your milk,
Dayanhe, my nanny.
Along the river, I saw snow today, which reminds me of you:
Your grave is covered with snow,
Dead tiles on the eaves of your closed former residence,
The ten-square-foot garden you pawned,
The mossy stone chair in front of your door, Ai Qing Dayanhe-my nanny.
Along the river, I saw the snow today, which reminds me of you.
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me;
After you set up the stove,
After you took the charcoal ash off your apron,
When you taste the cooked rice,
After you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,
After you mended your son's clothes cut by thorns on the hillside,
When you have bandaged the child's hand cut by the firewood knife,
After you strangled the lice on your husband's shirt one by one,
After you picked up your first egg today,
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me.
I am the landlord's son,
After I ate all your milk in Dayan River,
I was taken home by my parents.
Ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?
I'm a new guest at my parents' house!
I touched the furniture carved with red paint,
I touched the gold pattern on my parents' bed,
I looked blankly at the plaque on the eaves that I didn't know, "Family Fun".
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my new dress.
I looked at my mother's strange sister,
I sat on a kang stool with a brazier painted on it.
I ate milled rice three times,
However, I am so embarrassed! Because I
I became a new guest in my parents' house.
Dayan River, for living,
After she drank all the milk,
She began to work with her arms hugging me;
She washed our clothes with a smile.
With a smile on her face, she went to the frozen pond near the village with a vegetable basket.
She smiled and cut the radish with ice.
With a smile on her face, she took out the spent grains eaten by pigs with her hands.
She smiled and fanned the fire in the saucepan.
She went to the square with a smile.
Sun those soybeans and wheat,
Dayan River, for living,
After she used up all the lotion,
She just holds my arm and works.
Wild goose river, deeply in love with her baby;
During the Chinese New Year, I was busy cutting him the candy of that winter rice.
For him, he often goes to his home near her village quietly.
For him, go up to her and call "Mom".
Dayan River painted his bright red and green Guan Yunchang.
Stick it on the wall next to the stove,
Dayanhe will boast and praise his breasts to his neighbors;
Dayan and had a dream that can't be told:
In the dream, she ate her child's wedding wine,
Sitting in the magnificent celebration hall,
Her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately calls her "mother-in-law"
......
Dayanhe loves her baby deeply!
Dayan and died before her dream woke up.
When she died, her breasts were not with her,
When she died, her husband, who usually beat and scolded her, also shed tears for her.
Five sons, all crying sadly,
When she died, she whispered the name of her child.
Dayanhe, dead,
When she died, her breasts were not with her.
Dayanhe, tears streaming down her face!
With the bullying of human life for more than forty years,
The misery of countless slaves,
With a four-dollar coffin and some straws,
There are only a few feet of land to bury the coffin,
With the ashes of a handful of paper money,
Wild goose river, she went away in tears.
This is big research and don't know:
Her drunken husband died,
The eldest son became a bandit,
The second one died in the smoke of gunfire,
Third, fourth and fifth times
Live in the scolding of the host and landlord.
And I, I'm writing a spell for this unfair world.
When I returned to my native land after a long wandering,
On the hillside, in the fields,
When the two brothers met, they were closer than they were six or seven years ago!
This, this is for you, quietly sleeping Dayan River.
What you don't know!
Dayan River! Today, your child is in prison,
Write a hymn for you,
Give you the purple soul under the loess,
Reach out to you and hug my hand,
To kiss my lips,
What is presented to you is a muddy and gentle face.
It's for you, because you lifted my breasts,
To your sons, my brothers,
To everything on earth,
My big weir nanny and their son,
Dedicated to Da Yanhe who loves me as his own son.
Dayan River,
I grew up eating your milk.
Your son,
I respect you.
Love You!
1933 1 month 14, snow dynasty
This poem was written in the winter of 1932. At that time, the poet was arrested by the Kuomintang for participating in the "Left-wing Artists Alliance" and was detained in a detention center. According to the poet's account, this poem was written in the morning. The narrow window of the detention center and the vast snow scene aroused the poet's nostalgia for the nanny, and the poet wrote this poem with passion. The poem was published on 1934 after many twists and turns. The poet used the pseudonym "Ai Qing" for the first time and became a star in China's poetry circle.
The Dayan River in the poem does exist, and all its stories are true. In other words, the poet wrote the poet's true feelings about the nanny completely truthfully. However, this poem is not about Dayan River: it has become a symbol, a symbol of the earth, a symbol of hardworking people in China, and a symbol of a great mother. Dayan River has no name. Dayan River is just a place name, where she was born. Dayan River is common. Her life is full of ordinary things, which is the silhouette of her miserable life. Her living space is the former residence of a "dead tile", a "ten-square-foot pawn garden", and there is only a "grave full of grass" after her death. Her life is a "black sauce bowl", a "sewing clothes torn by thorns for her son", and washing vegetables and cutting vegetables in the cold river. Her son and husband live a relatively stable life under her care. After her death, they lost these things, and they lived in the hail of bullets and the curse of the landlord. Her image is also the image of the working people connected with the land. They are all rooted in the earth and have the great qualities of workers.
Dayanhe is not without happiness, but happiness is the kindness of a great mother and her deep love for her baby. After a hard day's work, she never forgot to hug and touch me. When I left her, she was still praising me and thinking about my marriage ... Dayan and her love for her son and husband. They all cried sadly when she died. Da Yanhe, a great mother image.
The whole poem does not rhyme, and the number of sentences in each paragraph is different, but each paragraph echoes from beginning to end, and there is a strong internal connection between paragraphs; Poetry does not pursue rhyme and lines, but the proper use of parallelism makes many images complex and not chaotic, unified and harmonious. These make poetry smooth and simple, and contain rich contents. Poets are good at extracting typical images from ordinary life and writing strong rhythms with prose-like poems. Poetry is bold and unrestrained, with beautiful and smooth rhythm, which expresses the poet's feelings of coming to the deep valley and perfectly embodies Ai Qing's free poetic style.