"Sorghum Love" - ??Author: Niu Han
Sorghum has a sacred status in my heart. When I think of sorghum, I think of its upright stalks and large, blood-red ears, tightly grasping the roots of the earth, and its admirable character.
My hometown is at the foot of Yanmen Pass. The land is gray and very barren. There is very little land that can grow wheat. Only the strong sorghum can withstand the torture of nature. For thousands of years, land, people and sorghum have been closely integrated. I grew up eating sorghum rice. Before I left my hometown, sorghum was indispensable for every meal throughout the year. It shaped my body and my life.
There is no part of sorghum that does not have a distinct personality. Its tall and thick stalks give people confidence and strength. What particularly surprised me was the roots of sorghum. Not only did they penetrate very deep and invisible, but they also had many aerial roots growing downward at the joints where the lower end of the sorghum stalk was above the ground level, a bit like a banyan tree. The roots, when touched by hand, are so tough, like eagle claws, they grip the earth powerfully, as if they are grabbing a huge living creature. I asked my father why there were so many "claws" under the sorghum? My father told me not to think that plants, trees, and crops are inferior to humans and have no consciousness. In fact, crops are very smart, and they have a keener sense of nature than humans. Some of them are climbing vines, clinging to the earth, and some are standing like trees, all for survival and for sunlight and space. For sorghum, aerial roots are indispensable. Before the summer storm, it quickly sprouts roots and sinks deeply into the soil. The storm cannot shake it, like a wrestler with his heels planted firmly on the ground, waiting for his opponent to pounce on him.
My father said: "The roots of sorghum are the most bitter. All insects dare not bite them. The roots are its life." As he said, my father pinched off a small section and asked me to lick it with my tongue. Ah, I still remember the hardship.
Wheat and bean sprouts can be uprooted by hand, but no matter how strong a farmer is, it is difficult to pull up sorghum. When I was practicing wrestling as a child, the uncle who taught me said: "Stand like a sorghum, you must have its roots to grip the ground, and you must practice until the roots grow from your ankles." He also said: "When wrestling, your feet should be on the ground. On the ground, I feel like I don’t have two feet, but dozens of them!” Sorghum has dozens of feet, and each foot is deeply rooted into the ground.
Although I cannot develop the eagle-clawed feet of sorghum, its perseverance has always inspired me to live and trek tenaciously.
About the author: Niu Han, a native of Dingxiang County, Shanxi, was born in October 1923. He is a Mongolian nationality. During the Anti-Japanese War, he studied in middle school and university in Shaanxi-Gansu area. He published works in 1940, mainly writing poems, and also writing prose in the past ten years. He has published more than ten collections of poems, seven collections of prose, and two collections of poetry. In recent years, Japan, South Korea and Macedonia have translated and published anthologies of Niu and Han poems, and were awarded the "Literary Scepter Award" by the Macedonian Republic. He has been working as a literary editor for half a century and was the editor-in-chief of "New Literature Historical Materials" for 20 years. He is currently an editor and reviewer of People's Literature Publishing House, a national honorary member of the Chinese Writers Association, and the vice president of the Chinese Poetry Association.