Ai Qing, a poet in China, was originally named Jiang Haicheng. The following is what I compiled online for your reading.
Ai Qing's modern poetry anthology:
Ai Qing, a poet in China, was originally named Jiang Haicheng. The following is what I compiled online for your reading.
Ai Qing's modern poetry anthology: I love this land.
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. ...
: tiger scallop
Beautiful tiger spot
Shine on you
What makes you so elegant?
What makes you shine?
More exquisite than the best porcelain.
Harder than a white gem.
An oval shape as smooth as a goose egg.
I can't find a scar the size of a needle tip
How many years at the bottom of despair
Rolling in the boundless waves.
A suit of jade armor _
Protect the most vulnerable life.
If the occasional waves hadn't swept me to the beach.
I never expected to see such beautiful sunshine.
: lost years
Unlike lost luggage.
You can get it back at the lost and found office.
Lost Years
I don't even know where I lost it—
Some have disappeared in dribs and drabs.
Some have been lost for ten or twenty years,
Some are lost in the noisy city,
Some are lost in distant wasteland,
Some are crowded stations,
Some are under abandoned small oil lamps;
What is lost is not like a piece of paper, you can pick it up.
More like a bowl of water spilled on the ground.
It is dry and has no shadow;
Time is a flowing liquid-
Cann't afford to salvage with a sieve or net;
Time cannot become a solid,
If only it were a fossil,
Even tens of thousands of years ago, I could find it in the rocks.
Time is like a gas,
Like smoke from the front of a speeding train!
The lost years are like a friend,
Break off contact, suffer some hardships,
Suddenly got the message; Say that he
Long gone.
To the female sculptor Zhang Deti
Hair runs through your fingers.
Like waves
The hardships of the years remain on my forehead.
From your eyes, from your fingers.
Sad eyes
Lips Wide Shut
There's one I ran through your fingers.
Use my breath.
Take my temperature.
I was silent.
Maybe it's misfortune.
Because of you, I have extended my life.
: beggar
in the north
Beggars wander on both sides of the Yellow River.
Wandering on both sides of the railway
in the north
Beggars use the most annoying voice
Shout pain
Said they were from the disaster area.
From the battlefield
Hunger is terrible.
It deprives the elderly of their humanity.
Young people learn to hate.
in the north
Beggars use stubborn eyes
Staring at you.
See if you are eating.
And the way you pick your teeth with your nails
in the north
The beggar held out a hand that would never retract.
Black hands
I want a copper coin.
For anyone
Even a soldier who can't afford a penny.