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The Long March (1935)
The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March, Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents. The Five Ridges wind like gentle ripples, And the majestic Wumeng roll by, globules of clay. Warm the steep cliffs lapped by the water of Jinsha, Cold the iron chains spanning the Dadu River. Min Mountain's thousand li of snow joyously crossed, The three Armies march on, each face glowing.
Far above the earth, into the blue You, wild Kunlun, have seen All that was fairest in the world of men. Your three million white jade dragons in flight Freeze the sky with piercing cold. In summer days your melting torrents Flood the streams and rivers, Turning men into fish and turtles. Who has passed judgement on the good and ill You have wrought there thousand autumn?
To Kunlun now I say, Neither all your height Nor all your snow is needed. Could I but draw my sword overtopping heaven, I'd cleave you in three: One piece for Europe, One for America, One to keep in the East. Now a world in peace, sharing together The same warmth and cold throughout the globe.
Mount Liupan (1935.10)
The sky is high, the clouds are pale, We watch the wild geese vanish southward. If we fail to reach the Great Wall we are not men, We who have already measured twenty thousand li.
High on the crest of Mount Liupan Red banners wave freely in the west wind. Today we hold the long cord in our hands, When shall we bind fast the Grey Dragon?
North country scene: A hundred leagues locked in ice, A thousand leagues of whirling snow. Both side of the Great Wall One single white immensity. The Yellow River's swift current Is stilled from end to end. The mountains dance silver snakes And the highland charge like wax-hued elephants. Vying with heaven in stature. On a fine day, the land, Clad in white, adorned in red, Crows more enchanting.
This land so rich in beauty Has made countless heroes bow in homage. But alas! Qin Shihuang and Han Wudi Were lacking in literary grace, And Tang Taizong and Song Taizu Had little poetry in their souls; That proud son of Heaven, Genghis Khan, Knew only shooting eagles, bow outstretched. All are past and gone! For truly great men Look to this age alone.
The PLA Captures Nanjing (1949.04)
Over Zhong Mountain swept a storm, headlong, Our mighty army, a million strong, has crossed the Great River. The city, a tiger crouching, a dragon curling, outshining its ancient glory; In heroic triumph heaven and earth have been overturned. With power and to spare we must pursue the tottering foe And not ape Xiang Yu the conqueror seeking idle fame. Were Nature sentient, she too would pass from youth to age, But man's world is mutable, seas become mulberry fields.
Reply to Mr. Liu Yazi (1950.10)
The night was long and dawn came slow to the Crimson Land. For a century demons and monsters whirled in a wild dance, And the five hundred million people were disunited.
Now the rooster has crowed and all under heaven is bright, Here is music from all our peoples, even from Yutian, And the poet is inspired as never before.
A rainstorm sweeps down on the northern land, White breakers leap to the sky. No fishing boats off Qinhuangdao Are seen on the boundless ocean. Where are they gone?
Nearly two thousand years ago Wielding his whip, the Emperor Weiwu Rode eastward to Jieshi; his poem survives. Today the autumn wind still sighs, But the world has changed!