Image of Ai Qing's Selected Poems and Handwritten Newspaper

If I were a bird,

I should also sing with a hoarse throat:

This land hit by the storm,

This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,

This endless wind,

And the gentle dawn from the forest ...

And then I died,

Even feathers rot in the ground.

Why do I often cry?

Because I love this land deeply. ...

-Ai Qing, "I Love This Land"