Looking for the representative works of Shu Ting and He Jiang.

Shu Ting's:

Go to the oak tree

If I love you-

Unlike climbing Campbell,

Show off yourself with your tall branches;

If I love you-

Never imitate spoony birds.

Repeat monotonous songs for the shade;

It's not just like a fountain.

Send cool comfort for many years;

It's not just a dangerous mountain peak.

Increase height and set off dignity.

Even during the day.

Even spring rain.

No, these are not enough!

I must be a kapok beside you,

Standing with you as the image of a tree.

Roots, clenched in the ground

Leaves, touching in the clouds.

Every gust of wind blows

We all greet each other,

But no one

Understand what we said.

You have your copper branches and iron stems,

Like a knife, like a sword.

Like a halberd;

I have my red flowers.

Like a heavy sigh,

Like a heroic torch.

We share cold waves, storms and lightning;

We like mist, flowing mist and rainbow.

As if we were separated forever,

But they are lifelong dependent.

This is great love,

Loyalty is here:

Love-

Not only love your strong body,

I also love your stand, the land under your feet.

Mast ship

The fog wetted my wings.

But the wind won't make me hesitate.

Coast, dear coast

I just said goodbye to you yesterday.

You came again today.

Tomorrow we will be at

Meet at another latitude

It's a storm, it's a light.

Connect us together.

It's a storm, it's a light.

Let's divide things up again.

Not afraid of the ends of the earth

Is it morning or evening?

You are on my voyage.

I'm in your sight.

Motherland, my dear motherland.

I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river.

Old songs that have been spun for hundreds of years.

I am a miner's lamp with your forehead blackened.

When you grope in the tunnel of history.

I am a withered ear of rice; This is a roadbed that is in disrepair.

This is a barge on the beach.

Draw the rope deep

Pull it into your shoulder

-the motherland!

I am very poor.

I am sad

I am your ancestor.

Painful hope.

It's a flying sleeve.

Flowers that never fall to the ground for thousands of years

-Motherland

I am your brand-new ideal.

Just broke free from the mythical spider web.

I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow.

I am your tearful smile.

I am the newly painted white starting line.

This is crimson dawn.

Spraying

-Motherland

I am one billionth of you.

Is the sum of your 9.6 million square meters.

With your scarred breasts,

raise

Lost me, considerate me, boiling me.

And then from my flesh and blood

get

Your richness, your glory, your freedom.

-Motherland

my dear motherland

Like a river:

Unfinished poem

First, the old story

I was nailed to the prison wall.

Black time gathers, flocks of crows

From every corner of the world, from every night in history.

Pecking one hero after another on this wall.

The hero's pain turned to stone.

Lonely than a mountain.

In order to dig and shape

For the sake of national character

The hero was crucified.

The wind is eroding and the rain is beating.

A blurred image appeared on the wall.

Incomplete arms, hands and face

Braids are whipped and darkness is pecked.

The hands of ancestors and brothers work hard.

Knock yourself into the wall silently.

I'm here again.

The fate of resisting slavery

Shake the soil off the wall with sudden death.

Let the silent dead stand up and shout.

Second, suffering.

My daughter is about to be executed.

The gun is pointed at me, a black sun.

Come to me on the dry land

The withered fingers of the old tree

Spastic wrinkles on the face

The land and I suffer the same disaster.

My heart fell to the ground

The daughter's blood was spattered with mud.

The child's tears streamed down my face.

Children's tears are salty, too

In winter, the river freezes.

The river stopped singing.

Sisters, daughters and wives

The skirt was torn and my hair fell out.

The waves beat against the rocks.

My hair is like the sea.

Father, husband, son

Hit your hands on the ocean of hair.

The joints rang dully.

Ships and forests become rugged.

Third, short lyrics

Like in a dream.

I became a girl.

Come to this world

A creaking gravel road

Smash the shadow

I came barefoot.

The blood drops melted.

dew

Red agate's sparkling chest.

For the green heart.

Open at dawn

I dedicated the turmoil and purity of youth to the revolution.

A bridge with white arms

Looking for the sun

No longer afraid of the trembling stars in the water

The forest on the spine of the book, groping at night.

I became a star.

No more trembling

Fourth, go to prison.

The wind of deception covered the window.

The massacre is going on.

I can't hide in the house.

My blood won't allow me to do this.

The children in the morning won't let me do this.

I was thrown into prison.

Handcuffs and fetters are deeply embedded in my flesh.

The whip weaves a net on the body.

The sound was cut off.

My heart burns silently on my lips like a fire.

I walked to the execution ground and looked at it contemptuously.

This historic night, this corner of the world

There is no other choice, I choose the sky

The sky will not rot.

I must be executed, or there is nowhere to hide in the night.

I was born in the dark to create light.

I must be executed, or the lie will be shattered.

I am against everything that light cannot tolerate, including opposition.

silent

Surrounded by people who were driven away.

The darkness was crowded with disgraced people.

I am also standing in this group of people.

Watching yourself executed

Watch my blood run out drop by drop

V. Unfinished Poems

I'm already dead.

The bullet left a crater on the body, like an empty eye socket.

I'm already dead.

Don't leave crying and touching.

Not let the flowers bloom alone on the grave.

The national feelings are rich enough.

There is dew on the grassland every day.

Rivers flow to the ocean every day.

This feeling of long-term humidity

Don't you have less contact?

……

I was nailed to the wall.

The skirt fluttered slowly.

Like a raised flag.

monument

I often think.

Life should have a fulcrum.

This fulcrum

This is a monument.

Tian'anmen Square

On a solid concrete foundation

Establish the dignity of the Chinese nation

monument

History Museum and Great Hall of the People

It's like a giant balance.

a party

This is history, a lesson from yesterday.

the other side

Today, courage and the future.

The monument stands there quietly.

Stand like a winner

Like a hero who has experienced many failures.

be lost in thought

The skeleton of the whole nation is its structure.

The great sacrifice of the people gave him life.

He woke up from the ancient darkness in the East.

Carve everything you can't forget on your body.

From this time on.

He focused on the world and revolution.

His name is people.

I guess

I am a monument.

I'm covered in rocks.

How heavy is the history of the Chinese nation?

How much do I weigh?

How many wounds does the Chinese nation have?

How much blood have I lost?

I'm standing right here

It's opposite the former palace.

Golden civilization

With my wisdom and labor.

My looted jewels.

When the sun rises

The purple shadow under the glazed tile

-A dream in my pain

here

I've been betrayed countless times.

My head was cut off.

I still have traces of chains on me.

I was buried like this.

Life becomes the secret of the East in death.

but

Sin will eventually be liquidated.

The crime will eventually be made public.

When death is inevitable

The blood that comes out will not coagulate.

When there is only groaning on the land of the motherland

The voice of truth is louder.

Because hope will not die.

Because the sun rises in the east every day.

The truth will lift the curse

Left it to the gun.

The revolution deformed the flag soaked with blood.

Let it float in the wind, let it be free.

therefore

Struggle is my theme.

I put my poetry and my life

Dedicated to the monument