A tree, a tree
Stand apart from each other
Wind and air
Tell them the distance
But under the cover of soil,
Their roots are growing.
In the unseen depths
They twisted the roots together.
2, "I love this land" 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. ...