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I love this land by Ai Qing
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I Love This Land
By Ai Qing
欧阳桢、彭文兰、玛丽莱·金 译
If I were a bird,
I would sing with my hoarse voice
Of this land buffeted by storms,
Of this river turbulent with our grief,
Of these angry winds ceaselessly blowing,
And of the dawn, infinitely gentle over the woods…
--Then I would die
And even my feather would rot in the soil.
Why are my eyes always brimming with tears?
Because I love this land so deeply….
November 17, 1938
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