Author: Ai Qing
1 day
Poets on Horqin Grassland
Say to me:
"North sorrow."
Not bad.
The north is sad.
Blow from the outside of the plug.
Desert wind,
Has swept away the green of life in the north.
And the glory of time
-Dark grayish yellow.
Covered with a layer of sand fog that can't be opened;
That day, the roar that rushed to the edge.
Brought terror.
like mad
Sweep the floor;
Desert Yuan Ye
Frozen in the cold wind of December,
Villages, hillsides, river banks,
Collapsed walls and deserted graves
Covered with earthy melancholy ...
Lonely pedestrians,
Upper body leaning forward
Cover your cheeks with your hands,
In the wind and sand
dyspnea; respiratory distress; breathing difficulties
one by one
Struggle forward ...
A few donkeys
-With sad eyes.
A beast with tired ears,
Carrying land
The weight of pain,
Their tired footsteps
go slow
the north
A long and lonely road ...
Those rivers have dried up long ago.
The bottom of the river was also rutted.
The land and people in the north
yearn for
The fountain that nourishes life!
Withered tree
And low-rise residential buildings
Sparsely, darkly
Scattered under the gloomy sky;
In the sky,
Can't see the sun,
Only geese form a large group.
A flock of wild geese
Flap black wings
Shout out their words and sadness,
Escape from this desolate area
Escape to
The south, where the green covers the sky, has disappeared. ...
The north is sad.
Yellow River in Wan Li
Surging with turbid waves
Go to the vast north
Pour out disasters and misfortunes;
And the wind and frost of the age
describe
The vast north
Poverty and hunger.
5 and me
-This passenger from the south,
But love this sad northland.
blowing sand
And air conditioning to the bones.
Never let me curse;
I love this sad land,
An endless desert.
It also aroused my respect.
-I see
Our ancestors
Lead a flock of sheep
Play the flute
Immersed in this desert dusk;
We are moving forward.
In the ancient soft loess layer
Buried with the bones of our ancestors,
This land was reclaimed by them.
Thousands of years.
They're here.
They defended the land by fighting against the nature that hit them.
Never been humiliated,
They are dead.
Leave us the land—
I love this sad land,
Its vast and barren land
Bring us simple words
In a broad posture,
I believe this kind of speech and gesture.
Live strong in this land.
Never perish;
I love this sad land,
Ancient land
-This land
Raised the people I love.
The hardest thing in the world
The oldest race.
1February 4, 938 Tongguan
It should be 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, so that it can be divided.