The peach blossoms in Longhua are in bloom.
It's open on those nights.
On those bloody nights.
There were no stars in those nights.
It was windy those nights.
Those nights listening to widows sobbing
This ancient land
Like a hungry beast at any time
Lick the blood of young people.
The blood of a tenacious man's son
So after a long winter.
After the ice and snow season
After infinite drowsiness and expectation.
These bloodstains. Blood.
On a mysterious night
In the dark of the east
Burst countless buds.
Spring is everywhere in Jiangnan.
People ask: Where does spring come from?
I said: from the tomb hole in the suburbs.
Ai Qing's poem Spring: Spring Girl
Miss Spring is here-
Which one of you knows,
How did she get here?
I know!
I know!
She comes from the south,
I was here the other day,
The good news is,
It was the swallow who told me.
Have any of you seen it,
What does she look like?
I know!
I know!
She is a little girl,
More beautiful than me,
Two watery eyes,
A braid is so long!
She was barefoot,
Pant legs arm in arm on knees;
On her arm,
There is a striking wicker basket hanging.
She crossed the river.
Walking slowly on the beach,
She bowed her head and sang softly,
That sounds like a flowing river. ...
Seeing her appearance,
Who will be happy;
Hearing her singing,
Everyone will be happy.
In her big wicker basket,
Filled with many things—
Red flowers and green grass,
And golden seeds.
She hung flowers on the tree,
And spread the grass on the ground;
Scatter seeds in the ground,
Let them grow green seedlings.
She walked on the ridge,
The cow looked up,
The calf bounced,
The lamb bleated. ...
She came to the village,
Every family is happy,
Orchard,
Open the door to welcome guests;
Those swimming pools,
Polishing;
When Miss Chun walked by,
Look in the mirror.
All kinds of birds,
Singing all kinds of songs,
Every bird says:
"I am so happy!"
All kinds of birds,
Singing all kinds of songs,
Every bird says:
"I am so happy!"
Only those ducks,
Can't fly or sing,
They just stood there,
Flapping their wings and laughing. ...
They said, "Miss Chun,
We have been waiting for you for a long time!
I hope you came!
We can't sing, hahaha ... "
Ai Qing's Poetry Spring: Expectation
A sailor said:
What he likes best is anchoring what is aroused.
That white spray ...
A sailor said:
What pleased him most was that the anchor was broken.
Noise of chain ...
Looking forward to leaving
Hope of arrival