Farewell to the Plague Spirit
So many green and blue hills, but to what avail?
This tiny creature left Hua Tuo powerless!
Hundreds of villages choked with weeds, men wasted away;
Thousands of homes deserted, ghosts chanted mournfully.
Motionless, by earth I travel eighty thousand li a day,
Surveying the sky I see a myriad Milky Ways from afar.
Should the Cowherd ask tidings of the Plague Spirit,
Say the same griefs flow down the stream of time.
The spring wind blows amid profuse of willow wands,
Six hundred million in this land all equal Yao and Shun.
Crimson rain swirls in waves under our will,
Green mountains turn to bridges at our wish.
Gleaming mattocks fall on the Five Ridges heaven-high;
Mighty arms move to rock the earth round the Three Rivers.
May we ask Mr.
Plague: "Where do you want to go?"Paper barges aflame and candle-light illuminate the sky.
Mao Zedong
Other author posts
Huichang
Soon dawn will break in the east Do not say You start too early; Crossing these blue hills adds nothing to one's years, The landscape here is beyond compare
Jinggang Mountain
Below the hills fly flags and banners, Above the hilltops sounds bugles and drums The foe encircles us thousands strong, Steadfastly we stand our ground
New Years Day
Ninghua, Qingliu, Guihua —What narrow paths, deep woods and slippery moss Whither are we bound today
Yellow Crane Tower
Wide, wide flow the nine streams through the land, Dark, dark threads the line from south to north Blurred in the thick haze of the misty Tortoise and Snake hold the great river locked
