Ai Qing
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. ...
I wrote:
I love you, Mom!
If I were a dove of peace,
I will definitely sing with a beautiful voice:
This waist is bent by work,
This will always be my maternal love,
This tireless arm of care,
And a warm tomorrow in my heart ...
Then I flew down,
Fall on a beautiful cold plum.
Why do I always have olives in my mouth?
Because I love my mother deeply. ...
All right, you get extra points ~ ~ ~ ~ `.