Requesting document: Ai Qing’s poem selected into primary school textbooks

I love this land Ai Qing

If I were a bird,

I should also sing with a hoarse throat:

This The land buffeted by storms,

The river that forever surges with our sorrow and anger,

The angry wind that blows endlessly,

And the extremely gentle dawn from the forest...

Then I died,

Even the feathers rotted in the earth.

Why do I always have tears in my eyes?

Because I love this land deeply...

——This poem was written by the famous poet Ai Qing on November 17, 1938

English

If I were a bird

I should sing with my husky throat

The land which is being hitted by the storm

The river which is always filled with our indignation

The wind which blows violently forever

And the most tenderness dawn which comes from the forest……

After that I died

The feathers corrupted in the earth.

Why are the tears always in my eyes?

That's because I love the land so much ...

Selected into the middle school Chinese textbook of the People's Education Press

North

Author: Ai Qing

One day

The poet on the Horqin grassland

said to me:

"The north is sad."

Yes

The north is sad .

The desert wind blowing from outside the Great Wall,

has swept away the green of life in the north

and the glory of time

——A dim gray-yellow color

Covered with a layer of sand and fog that cannot be uncovered;

The whistling sound coming from the other side

Bringing terror

Crazyly

sweeping across the land;

The desert wilderness

Frozen in December In the cold wind,

The villages, hillsides, river banks,

the ruins and barren graves

are all covered with earth-colored melancholy...

A lonely pedestrian,

bent forward

covering his face with his hands,

in the wind and sand

Breathing with difficulty

Step by step

Struggled forward...

A few donkeys

——The one with sadness Beasts with

eyes and tired ears,

bearing the weight of the land's

pain,

their weary footsteps

Slowly walking through

Northland

The long and lonely road...

Those small rivers have long dried up

The bottom of the river is also full of ruts,

The land and people in the north

are longing for the spring that nourishes life!

Dead trees

and low houses

sparsely, gloomily

scattered under the gray sky;

In the sky,

there is no sun,

only the large flock of wild geese

the panicked flock of wild geese

Flapping their black wings

Crying out their helplessness and sorrow,

Fleeing from this desolate area

Fleeing to

The green and shaded south has gone...

The north is sad

And the thousands-mile Yellow River

is surging with turbid waves

The vast north

pours disasters and misfortunes;

And the wind and frost of the times

carves the vast north

Poverty and hunger.

And I

—a traveler from the south,

love this sad northern country.

The wind and sand blowing against my face

And the cold air that penetrates my bones

Never made me curse;

I love this sad country,

An endless desert

also aroused my admiration

——I saw

our ancestors

Leading the flock

Blowing the bamboo flute

Immersed in the dusk of the desert;

We are walking on the

ancient Buried in the soft loess layer are the bones of our ancestors.

——This land was cultivated by them for thousands of years

They once fought here

against the nature that struck them.

They never humiliated themselves once in order to defend the land

They died

Leaving the land to us——

I love this sad country,

It is vast and thin The barren land

brings us simple words

and broad gestures,

I believe in these words and gestures

Strong The earth lives on the earth

Never perish;

I love this sad country,

The ancient country

—— This land

raised the hardest and oldest race in the world

that I love

Selected as a compulsory trilingual book in Jiangsu Education Edition

"Words of the Sun"

Open your window

Open your Board door

Let me in, let me in

Enter your hut

I bring a golden bouquet

I carry the fragrance of the forest

I carry the light and warmth

I carry the dew all over my body

Get up, get up

Raise your head from the pillow

Open your eyes covered by eyelashes

Let your eyes see my arrival

Let Your hearts are like small wooden houses

Open their windows that have been closed for a long time

Let me bring bouquets of flowers, fragrance, and light,

Warmth and warmth Dew fills the space of your heart

Selected into the Chinese textbook for the sixth grade of primary school

"My thoughts are round"

My thoughts are round

The moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival in August

It is also the brightest and roundest

No matter how high the mountains are and how wide the sea is

it can be seen from all corners of the world. What will it

think of on a night like this

My thoughts are round

Watermelons and apples are round

A reunited family is happy

Family is divided It is painful

Those who miss their loved ones

Looking at the bright moon in the sky

Who can swallow the moon cake?

Jiangsu Education Edition Chinese Textbook for Grade 7 Volume 1

Dayanhe - 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 a landlord;

I also grew up eating the milk of Dayanhe

The son of Dayanhe.

Dayan River raised her family by raising me,

And I was raised by eating your milk,

Dayan River , my nanny.

Dayan River, the snow I saw today reminded me of you:

Your grass-covered grave weighed down by snow,

Your closure The dead tiles on the eaves of your former residence,

Your 1-foot-square garden that has been mortgaged,

The moss-covered stone chairs in front of your door,

Dayanhe, the snow I saw today reminded me of you.

You held me in your arms and stroked me with your thick palms;

After you set up the stove,

After you patted me away After you wipe off the charcoal ash on your apron,

After you taste that the rice is cooked,

After you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,

After you mend your sons’ clothes that were torn by the thorns on the mountainside,

After you wrapped up the child’s hand that was injured by a hatchet,

After you kill the lice on the husbands' shirts one by one,

After you pick up the first egg of the day,

You use Your thick palms hold me in your arms and caress me.

I am the son of a landlord.

After I drank up all your milk from Dayan River,

I was taken back to my own by my parents who gave birth to me. Home.

Ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?

I am a new guest in the home of my parents who gave birth to me!

I touched the red lacquered and carved furniture,

I touched the golden patterns on my parents’ bed,

I stared blankly at the eaves. I didn't recognize the plaque of "Family Relationships and Music",

I touched the silk and shell buttons of my newly put on clothes,

I looked at the disapproving smile in my mother's arms. My familiar sister,

I was sitting on a painted kang stool with a fire bowl mounted on it,

I was eating white rice that had been ground three times,

But, I am so coy and uneasy! Because I

I became a new guest in the home of my parents.

Dayan River, in order to live,

After she drained her milk,

She began to work with the arms that hugged me;

She washed our clothes with a smile on her face,

With a smile on her face, she carried the vegetable basket to the frozen pond at the edge of the village,

With a smile in her mouth, she cut radishes with ice chips,

With a smile in her mouth, she scooped out the wheat grains eaten by the pigs with her hands,

With a smile in her mouth, she fanned Lighting the fire of the stew stove,

With a smile, she carried a basket on her back and went to the square,

drying the soybeans and wheat,

Dayan River, for life,

After she drained her lotion,

she hugged my arms and worked.

Dayanhe loves her baby deeply;

During the New Year, for him, she is busy cutting the candies of winter rice,

For him , often quietly walked to her house on the edge of the village,

For him, he walked up to her side and called her "Mom",

Dayan River painted him bright red The big green Guan Yunchang

pasted on the wall beside the stove,

Dayanhe would boast to her neighbors about her breasts;

Dayanhe once I had a dream that I couldn’t tell anyone:

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

sitting in the gloriously decorated hall,

And her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately calls her "mother-in-law"

...

Dayanhe loves her breasts deeply!

Dayanhe was dead before she woke up from her dream.

When she died, her baby was not by her side.

When she died, her husband, who usually beat and scolded her, also shed tears for her.

Five sons , everyone cried sadly,

When she died, she gently called out the name of her baby,

Dayan River is dead,

When she died, her baby was not by her side.

The Dayan River went away in tears!

With the humiliation of more than forty years of human life,

With the misery of countless slaves,

With four dollars A coffin and a few bunches of straw,

With a few feet of rectangular land where the coffin was buried,

With a handful of ashes of paper money,

Dayan She went to the river with tears in her eyes.

This is what Dayanhe doesn’t know:

Her drunken husband has died,

The eldest son has become a bandit,

The second died in the smoke of artillery fire,

The third, fourth, and fifth

lived their lives amid the scoldings of their masters and landlords.

And I, I am writing a spell for this unfair world.

When I returned to my hometown after a long wandering,

On the mountainside, in the fields,

When the brothers met, they were six or seven years old. We need to be closer than before!

This, this is for you, Dayanhe, who is sleeping quietly

I don’t know!

Dayan River! Today, your baby is in prison,

Writing a hymn for you,

To your purple soul under the loess,

Present to you the outstretched hand that embraced me,

Present to the lips that kissed me,

Present to your gentle, muddy face,

To your breasts that nourished me,

To your sons, my brothers,

To all the earth,

My nannies and their sons who are as big as the Yanhe River,

To the Dayanhe who loves me as much as she loves her own son.

Dayan River,

I grew up eating your milk

Your son,

I respect you

Love you!

January 14, 1933, Snow Dynasty

Selected as a compulsory first language document in the People's Education Press