Buzz
1. The Song of Spring 68
Comrades, brothers, and sisters!
Raise your rifles high, and welcome Spring 68!
Spring of Vietnam
Spring of bravery.
Who is that approaching, joyously with Spring?
Cheers for the Liberation Army!
Salute to the Hero, the most beautiful person!
History kisses you, the barefooted youth
Living boldly, indomitable in life
Like Thạch Sanh of the twentieth century
With a sling and sharpened stick, striking against the American enemy.
Unaware of your own image, brave warrior!
The truth is being followed across the globe
Your shadow walks… and the floppy hat
That is yours!
Oh, that soft, charming cloth hat like a small hand
Not hurting a single leaf on the tree
Bright above like a piece of the blue sky
Yet charging forward, sweeping across every path.
Stronger than all bombs and bullets, shaking the Pentagon!
We wish to ask Trường Sơn
Is there any peak higher than
That hero’s hat of revolutionary heroism?
Thank you, our Party, the Party that brings the light
You have not yet taken us to Venus.
But you have given us a soul and a heart
Knowing right from wrong, knowing love and hatred
Knowing how to move forward and achieve victory!
Today is such a joyful day! This bright spring morning
We move forward, our hearts soaring
With every cloud, with every breeze
The Northern winds are blowing to the South!
O winds, do not wait for the spring sunshine
Fly and shield the convoys
And the troops heading to the front lines…
Our nation!
Twenty-three years of pain and struggle, steadfast in resistance
Forward!
Victory shall be ours!
From the four corners and the distant battlefields
Listen… The moment of the New Year is upon us
President Hồ calls. This is the arrival of Spring…
Cheers for the heroic Spring 68!
Let us roar like thunderous drums
All the cannons!
And rush forward, warriors!
Like the spirit of Trần, Lê. Like the power of Quang Trung
Across the cities and villages
We will defeat the Americans, the traitors!
For Independence, for Freedom, for our majestic mountains and rivers
For the sacred value of Humanity
For the eternal blooming flowers and green leaves
We are determined to win.
To claim the most beautiful spring!
(January 23, 1968)
2. Việt Bắc
Do you remember me when you return?
Those 15 years filled with warmth and longing.
Do you remember me, dear friend?
Looking at the trees, remembering the mountains; looking at the rivers, recalling the source.
Who’s calling so earnestly by the embankment?
A sense of longing fills my heart, restless as I step forward.
The blue shirt sways in the farewell evening
Hand in hand, what can we say today...
When we part, do you remember the days
Of pouring rain, swollen streams, and endless fog?
Do you remember the war zone?
A bite of rice with salt, bearing the weight of hatred on our shoulders?
Do the mountains and forests remember us?
The bùi fruit falls, and the bamboo shoots grow old.
When we part, do you remember the houses?
Lonely as the grey reeds, yet deep with unwavering love.
Do you remember the mountains?
When we fought the Japanese, back in the days of Việt Minh.
Do you remember Tân Trào, Hồng Thái, and the banyan tree?
Us and you, you and me
Our hearts remain warm, our loyalty unshaken
When we part, I think of you again
As deep as the water flows, so does our love...
It’s like the longing for a loved one
The moon rising above the mountain, the evening sun on the hillside
Each smoke-filled village, each mist-covered morning
The fire that burns in the early morning, waiting for the return of a beloved.
Each forest of bamboo, each bank of the Thia River
The streams of the Đáy River, the Suối Lê river, ebbing and flowing
As I go, I remember the days
Of bitter moments, of joy and sorrow shared...
We shared everything, from yams to rice cakes
The simple meals, the shared blankets in the cold
Do you remember your mother, under the burning sun?
Carrying her child to the fields, picking corn with gentle hands
How can I forget the simple school in the evening?
With the light of the lantern, we gathered for a celebration
How can I forget the days at the office?
Enduring hardship, still singing under the mountain peaks.
How can I forget the sound of the evening bell
The rhythmic pounding of the pestle at the distant river...
As I return, do you remember me?
I remember the flowers, the people, and the land
The lush green forests, the red banana blossoms
The high mountains where the sun shimmers off the blade of a knife.
The springtime blooms as the forest glows white
Do you remember the girl weaving bamboo hats?
The cicadas singing, the trees turning golden with the falling leaves
Do you remember the girl picking bamboo shoots on her own?
The autumn forest, bathed in moonlight, represents peace
Who do we remember in these songs of loyalty?
We remember when the enemy came, searching for us
We fought together in the mountains and forests
The hills were our barricades, our comrades in arms
The trees sheltered us, the mountains surrounded the enemy
The mist swirled around us, as we stood together, hearts united in battle.
Do you remember the Việt Bắc?
We remember the Phủ Thông and the Giàng Pass
We remember the Lô River, the Ràng town
From Cao-Lạng to Nhị Hà...
The roads of Việt Bắc are in our hearts
Each night, the sound of soldiers marching
The stars above, guiding us with the rhythm of the fight
The people of the countryside, red lanterns lighting their way
Steps pounding on the stones, sparks flying in the wind.
Through countless nights, with the heavy fog
The headlights illuminating the way forward.
The news of victory reaches from every corner
Peace and joy returning to the Northwest and Điện Biên
From Đồng Tháp to An Khê, from De Pass to Hồng Mountains.
Do you remember Việt Bắc?
The red flag waving in the breeze
The midday sun shining brightly on the golden star
The central government discusses public affairs
The strategy for the fall and winter campaigns
The rural areas mobilize, roads are opened
Preserving the dykes, facing the drought, preparing the harvest
Sending tools to the northern regions, constructing schools...
Where the enemy is hiding, we look to Việt Bắc: Hồ Chí Minh shines bright
Where pain lingers, we think of Việt Bắc and strengthen our resolve
Fifteen years—who could forget?
The land where the revolution was born and the Republic was formed
When you return, do you remember the banyan tree at Tân Trào?
As the water flows, does it remember its source?
As the clouds drift, will they return to the mountains?
We send our love back to the homeland
Brown boats and bamboo rafts will carry our dreams
The brown dye stains our clothes, never to fade
Our bond grows stronger with time, remembered in the hearts of all
The water returns to the fertile fields of Thái Bình
The bamboo binds our love as it flows from north to south.
The water may flow, but the heart remains steadfast
The clouds may pass, but our love for the land never fades
The stone may wear down, but our commitment endures
The brown cloth deepens in color, while promises remain firm.
The bamboo we send will always carry our spirit
The earth and the sky, we are one in this shared history
The fields of Thái Bình will bloom again
The warmth of the house and the joy of the banyan tree will return...
Returning to the city far away
High buildings, but will I still see the hills?
The crowded streets, will I still remember the villages?
The lights are bright, but does the moon still rise in the forest?
As I leave, I wonder
When will Việt Bắc become lively once again?
The road home is near
Today, I leave the village for the city
The tall buildings still reflect the green mountains
The bustling streets urge my steps as I travel on.
Tomorrow, I will return to the village
The familiar forest and old mountains, our love for them unchanged
Tomorrow, the hills will sing again
Trains run north to south, weaving through the landscape.
In Phấn Mễ, in Cao Bằng
The streets are like mushrooms sprouting from the earth
The school roofs shine bright red
The market hums with the joy of new trade
The salt of Thái Bình, the rice of Hà Giang
The farms of Đông Xuất, the sugar of Thanh
Who will return for the vases from Hương Canh?
Who will carry these gifts for you, my dear?
The carpets of Nga Sơn, the bricks of Bát Tràng
The silk of Nam Định, the fabrics of Hà Đông
Your embroidered shirt is my dream of spring
As the festival brings joy to the world.
As long as there are mountains, rivers, and sky
Hồ Chí Minh will live, bringing happiness to the world!
As I return with Hồ Chí Minh’s path ahead
Việt Bắc will never forget him
His eyes shining bright
His brown clothes like new, yet worn by time.
We remember him in the early morning
As he calmly rode his horse, hearing the river flow
We remember his steps climbing the hills
As he walked the land, we followed his light...
We thank the Party, forever grateful
In every step, the truth remains, side by side.
The waters of history run deep
The Party's guidance will lead us forever.
The land will bloom with prosperity forever
Ever grateful to the Party’s strength, now and always.
Hand in hand, we sing in joy
Tomorrow, we’ll sing again, together in the Capital.
(October 1954)
3. Thirty Years of Our Lives With the Party
4. A Spring Branch
Dedicated to the beloved Party on its 50th anniversary
Yes, let me share with you, Comrade Spring
Our personal and collective story, a simple life
In the year 20 of the 20th century
I was born. But I was not yet a person
The country was lost. My father became a slave.
Oh, those days... The rain of Hue
Why is the rain so sad, my homeland?
Looking up, I see no sun
The land flooded with tears...
Perhaps that was it... I drifted like a boat in the mist
On the foggy river
I withered like a reed by the road
Never daring to dream of becoming a fragrant flower or sweet fruit
I died silently, like a bird that never sang
A song to brighten the world
If only that spring had come, my dear!
From hopelessness, through the endless dark night
You arrived. Your bright light poured upon me
In my heart. Oh, beloved Party
You revived me. How joyful it was!
The poor workers' neighborhood joined me
Faint lights in the late night. Brightened by the Communist Manifesto
Shocked to hear Marx calling to the heavens
Loud and clear, Lenin... Seize the power!
Vibrantly, the earth is reborn
Morning breaks
The image of the Soviet Union fills the sky.
And humanity slowly starts to move
Everyone demands liberation
Vietnam, oh Vietnam!
Come with me, light up the horizon
Those comrades, so kind, so humble
Embrace me, and call me 'Comrade'
This kiss sweeter than any love
Lift my soul like wind lifts a kite
A new name for man standing tall
A new greeting for man who is determined to win
No more sorrow, no more bitterness, from here on...
Mother of mine! The warmth of those days
When I was young, you always took care of me
I will give it to those orphaned
To those who crave love
To those wandering, without a home
With the flame of faith and hope.
Ah! Life is truly worth living
Life loves me. And I love life
All of us together. I with millions
We are one. And yet, we are infinite!
Rise, oh suffering people!
This land must smell of rice and flowers
This nation will be a song
Of righteousness, spreading across four thousand years.
I sing aloud. And my heart beats hot
It pushes me forward, with the waves of people
The red flag flies high. A miraculous power
Through fire and blood, nothing can stop us.
How can I forget all those mountains and streams
Who cares how many years of life’s journey?
Who can measure the strength of twenty years?
Who can calculate the hearts of the elderly?
We only know this: since we had Uncle
The Party has been with us, like tree roots and branches
It is an endless spring, with fresh green leaves
When one leaf falls, hundreds of buds emerge
In the storm, still standing tall, cheerful
We march forward. Looking to the future...
To this day. The sky is vast, the sea is wide
We gaze at our majestic mountains and rivers
Washing away the blood and the filth of American imperialism
The bright youth in the sunlight of the Pacific
And tears fall, full of memories and love...
Oh, Homeland!
Proud is the torch
Of conscience
Forever burning bright.
We offer our heartfelt gratitude to the Party
50 years
The night becomes a full moon
Revealing faces, the face of the earth.
Let them be, those wolves and tigers gnashing their teeth
Their claws will be buried in their graves
With steady hands, and guns in our hands
Steel built, also a sword to defend the country.
With strong positions, we move forward
50 million citizens
50 million heroes
Just as before, Uncle still walks freely
With dignity, marching on!
Isn't it amazing?
We live this reality, struggling day and night
Yet we feel like we’re soaring in dreams.
A meal of potatoes, few fish, but lots of vegetables
Building dams to generate electricity, drilling the sea for oil
Wearing simple sandals
Yet flying on a spaceship.
Life is joyful when we are in control
Comrades, my dear fellow comrades!
Younger now, the 20th century
And forever young, each of us
A spring branch, of the Party.
(17-1-1980)
5. Greetings to Spring '67
Our beloved homeland!
Let us fire twenty cannons into the sky
To greet the spring of '67!
This is our spring,
From North to South, two lands with glorious victories!
Let us share the good news with friends far and near
The joyous news from the battlefield against the Americans!
Behold! The magnificent parade
31 million people
Marching in unity,
All transformed into soldiers.
Modern and ancient
Old and new together
With revolution, every tool becomes a weapon
Rockets, bamboo poles,
Bayonets, machetes,
Boats and vehicles,
Feet marching, shoulders carrying
Through mountains and valleys
Stronger than rivers, endless and eternal!
Look! The fields are in perfect formation
Rice stands straight in rows, determined to yield five tons
Greetings to the militia girls with rifles and hoes
Feet in the mud, dreaming of shooting down planes!
Greetings to the elder soldiers planting trees to resist the Americans
Greetings to the mothers, trembling hands sewing for the soldiers
Greetings to the children, the comrades of the future
Wearing straw hats, walking long distances to school…
This is the legendary story of our people!
The red sun rises
Is it not joyful?
Looking at the North, South, East, and West
We ask the twenty centuries:
Where? Every mountain and river
Has its own heroic feats
And celebrated warriors.
Where? A spear or a sharp bamboo
Stands proudly, like the Great Wall, a fortification.
And where? On this Earth
The people remain sweet, despite the pain
Life and death every second, amidst bombs and bullets
The fiery hatred still nourishes the coolness of friendship.
Vietnam, oh our beloved homeland!
In suffering, you become even more beautiful
Like a mother bearing burdens day and night
Silently raising children…
Knowing sacrifice, thus speaking little
What is more precious than human dignity?
We understand why we fight
We understand for whom we offer our blood.
Marx – Lenin, forever the shining sun
Amid the dark clouds, their truths become brighter.
Our lives, since the October Revolution
Have flourished through half a century of struggle.
If I could be a seed for the coming spring
If history chose me to be its foundation
What joy it would be to be a soldier leading the way
In the dark, our hearts burn as a flame!
Thank you, Party, for nurturing us
Four thousand years of boundless affection
With humanity conquering cruelty and tyranny
The oppressed rise to strike down the tyrants!
Sacred is the call of Uncle Ho:
For independence and freedom, we, the people, shall triumph!
Proud is the cry of Nguyễn Viết Xuân:
Lift your heads, aim, and fire at the enemy!
Oh, this bright spring morning, as sharp as a sword
Filling our hearts with passion, the drums of Quang Trung
The nation calls both North and South
Advance forward! Oh, heroic Spring of '67!
3-2-1967
6. Morning of May
How joyful is a morning in May
On the road to Viet Bac, visiting Uncle Ho
The long stream, lush and green, with cornfields
The wind howls across the capital city…
Uncle calls me to sit by his desk
He sits, writing in the humble wooden house
A pure white dove innocently flies by
It searches for rice around the desk
Later, the bird will eat
Uncle Ho is still busy with his guests
My hand grasps Uncle's warm hand
His hand is warm on my skin, in my heart.
Uncle sits there, vast and limitless
The sky is blue, the sea wide, the fields lush…
Uncle Ho, our father
The soul of all souls
Let me hug and kiss his cheeks
Let me kiss his silver hair
Kiss his beard, soft and peaceful like the harmony of peace!
Oh, the beloved name of Ho Chi Minh!
In the heart of every guerilla fighter
In the dead of night, training to destroy the enemy’s base.
The hands of the rural soldier steady and strong
Turning stones into cassava, into rice.
The workers, with gunpowder stains on their hands
Their arms scarred by the fires of battle.
Oh, those children who carried torches to school
And the sisters of the militia, tired from transporting at night!
All of you, my comrades, do you feel
How our hearts tremble and resonate
We silently call to Uncle: Ho Chi Minh!
And in every victory, every joyful season of success
Uncle’s eyes shine with joy, his smile so bright
We grow taller, soaring magically
On this long road, his wings lift us up…
Uncle Ho, the calm in our hearts
Oh, the father, the mother’s gentle eyes!
His voice is not thunder from above
But it penetrates every word, warming our deepest wishes
We hear Uncle, as if hearing the voice of the land itself
Words of yesterday, and those of tomorrow…
Uncle Ho, wearing his simple brown coat
The color of the homeland, steadfast and deep
With him, we glow, and he glows within us
We grow, just a little, by his side.
Uncle Ho, calmly lighting a cigarette
His vast forehead, tranquil under the open sky.
There is no greater joy than seeing Uncle Ho smile
Forgetting his old age, always as youthful as twenty!
He shines like the sun of revolution
While the imperialists are like bats, fluttering in panic
In the darkness of the night, they flee beneath his feet.
Ho Chi Minh
He is everywhere…
The soul of the vast sea welcomes every whispered word
Listening closely to every thought yet unspoken
He is Father, He is Uncle, He is Brother
His great heart sifts through the blood of every soul
He sits there, with his red pencil
Drawing the path, step by step, hour by hour…
There is no greater glory than to fight under the flag
The radiant Party, Ho Chi Minh's great legacy!
We remember every word he taught us:
The resistance was long and hard, but it was worth it
When Uncle says “Go,” we go.
When Uncle says “Win,” we win.
Vietnam has Ho Chi Minh
The world has Stalin.
Vietnam must be free
The world must have peace!
We fight, we sacrifice
Our hearts are steadfast, we swear to our cause.
We shake Uncle’s hand, bidding him farewell
Forever remembering the summer morning in the jungle…
(5-1951)
7. Song of Spring '71
71 has arrived, solemnly, like a soldier
Ready to go when called. Standing at attention
With a calm smile on a bright face
In a fresh, vibrant, easy-moving uniform.
The Central Committee meets. Despite the freezing cold
A swallow flies to the window, gazing in:
The General Staff: faces graying, heads turned silver
Yet Uncle still stands there, calm, looking down with kindness.
The plans are drawn.
The front lines push forward
The rear provides all the support.
Nickson!
You may burn the Truong Son Range
But you cannot block the path, fill the sea.
We have started, and we will reach our goal.
The country is in spring, calling to the fields
New crops bustle, full of promise
The young men stand tall, eager to make their mark
The emerald eyes of the women, beautiful like village girls bidding farewell to those heading to battle.
How endearing are the once barren lands
The hills scarred by erosion
Listening to the Party’s guidance, one sees wealth
Gone are the withered flowers, the fields now full of blooming cotton.
Mulberry trees promise golden threads, tea leaves yield new harvests
The land stretches, green as far as the eye can see
Even the wild grass is sweet like milkweed
Yams and corn also provide sweetness for the world.
Come, village painter, paint for us
The Cuban bulls strolling leisurely, gazing at Ba Vi mountain
The pigs, bigger than their mothers
And the Hung chickens living in harmony with the Ri chickens.
The new has arrived. The beginning of birth
Every day brings joy, like a new egg hatching.
Youths are here, their faces shining
This land remains green, even in winter.
When the Americans destroy, we rebuild.
We fill the bomb craters and build blast furnaces
Factories are like deep caves, sturdy and strong
Our hearts are strong too, full of pride.
The grand life is guided by the Party's eyes
Each step forward brings dreams closer
A small piece of coal bursts into light
The Thac Ba echoes, calling the power of the Da River.
We will mine oil and iron
We’ll build ships to sail the oceans
But we must train the finest people
People who know both hatred and love.
16 years have passed. Half a lifetime of blood spilled
Many mothers wait by the door, longing for their children
Our brothers and sisters have followed their fathers for generations
Hanoi suffers, the heart in Hue, Saigon!
South Vietnam, oh, South Vietnam, homeland
This spring, Uncle no longer writes poetry.
His call to arms from the Central Committee burns brightly
The whole country marches to the front lines.
We will strike, with lightning blows
The hawks will break, their wings torn apart.
The nation urges us. We fear not the long journey; we are determined to grow stronger
Opening the path of Ho Chi Minh that will shine on into the future...
Surely Uncle would be pleased
As he always is when a success is achieved
He would say: “That’s good.”
Let us be worthy, O 71!
1-1971
8. From That Moment
From that moment, summer's sun awoke in me
The sun of truth shone through my heart
My soul became a garden of flowers and leaves
Filled with rich fragrance and the songs of birds...
I bound myself to all people
So that love may spread to every corner
So my soul may unite with the souls of the suffering
Bringing us closer, strengthening the fabric of life
I became the child of countless homes
The sibling of countless fleeting lives
The brother of thousands of young souls
Without clothes, without food, struggling to survive...
7-1937
9. Song of Spring 1961
I write a spring poem
In the year 1961
The first apple branch in the early summer sways with ripe fruit
The sunlight reflects on dewdrops, sparkling...
The cold is harsh, but the warmth of the sunlight is dry
Only after much bitterness does sweetness emerge, perhaps?
Saying goodbye to the old year with a lingering feeling
I have already felt the new spring, floating strangely!
***
Hello, beautiful spring! What's so joyful?
Oh, my love? Why is your cheek so flushed?
Like the first days of courtship, passionate
I hold your hand, enthusiastic, clumsy
And I say: "This is my heart
It is truly divided into three bright red parts:
I reserve most of it for the Party
A part for poetry, and a part for you, my love...
"You are shy: "That's a lot, isn't it, my love?"
Then we kiss each other, two comrades
Hand in hand, until tomorrow morning
I bring you home, spring also arrives in our hands!
***
Oh, the joyful, tipsy song of the warbler
On the spring rice field, fluttering through the air
Spring, oh spring, spreading to the vast expanse
The sea joyfully waves its white foam against the rocks
Poetry has sung, refreshing in wishes:
The path to happiness is wide and endless
Tam Dao, Ba Vi, the mountains are joyful with spring’s green...
Hello 1961! The pinnacle of heights
We stand here, eyes gazing in all directions
Looking back to the past, looking toward the future
Looking to the North, the South, the whole world!
Having gone through a tumultuous journey
The verse still retains the sorrow of human suffering
Floating in life's turbulent journey
Oh, Tố Như, tears flow around Kiều's body!
Listen to Nguyen Trai's soul drifting
The sound of swords clashing, the poetry cries to the heart...
Oh, the voices of our ancestors from long ago
Let us sing in honor of today’s land:
A whole world of land in our hands
Though not yet complete, the red flag still flies!
Vietnam, the heroic people
With nothing, we have succeeded in becoming strong!
What is more beautiful in this world?
To love and be loved by one another
The Party gives us a heart full of wealth
We walk with our backs straight and heads held high!
***
Life is joyful, today doors are open
Like our marketplace stands
Oh, lovers, come and buy flowers
And also, buy some wedding gifts:
Nam Dinh silk, fresh and smooth
Hàng Đào combs for your green hair!
We are still poor, the streets are narrow
But we have enough to hang a few paintings for Tet...
Life is joyful, the sound of unity
We hold hands, rebuilding our lives
Rice fields, sweet potato fields, cassava gardens, coffee orchards
Pigsties, chicken flocks, vegetable gardens, fish ponds
We clean up every piece of dirt, pick up every fallen leaf
Each piece of coal, cassava, and corn we gather
We treasure and build our home!
***
Oh, how wonderful, this Northern poem
So free, its rhythm and melody bright
The whole space seems to draw closer
Time forgets the passing weeks and months.
Youth is back. Everything is revolutionary!
We shake off loneliness, isolation, poverty
Our homeland resounds with collective joy
Cooperation grows more rice in the fields.
The roads swell with life. Young willows rise
They are green, like the hair of a fifteen-year-old
Spring, oh Spring, you've only come for a few years
But life already feels like a grand celebration
Like today, in a dusty red construction site
Trucks line up, one after the other
Hong Quang, Lao Cai, Thai Nguyen, Viet Tri
The names of the land echo with joyous calls...
***
Let’s go! Uncle Ho said
The moment of New Year's Eve, the spring night sings
The five-year plan. Let’s invite the troops
Let’s invite every step forward.
Everyone under the flag, sing and march!
Let’s go! Let’s clear the wilderness
Ask the mountains, where are the iron and gold?
Ask the distant seas, where do the fish swim?
Ask the rivers: Da River, Lo River, Hong River, Chay River
Ask where the waterfalls are, where do they turn for electricity?
Oh, brave men, beautiful girls
On the misty peaks, on the rocky mountains
With our two hands, we will do everything!
Spring has arrived. The future rushes ahead
The smoke from new factories at dawn...
***
Who am I writing this poem for, 1961?
The night is late, the cold creeps in
Hanoi hums... The whistle blows outside the station
A train departs, heading far away
The sound of the wheels, rolling down the southern roads...
But it's not the train! It's my heart
The beats thump, ready to burst!
I know you're fine, my heart
Not crying. But why is it so fiery?
Like fire burning inside me, with the wind blowing?
These days, like a child missing home
I wander, restless, in and out
Hearing the drum and the sound of guns
The South stirs, cheering loudly!
My three children have been asleep for so long
But how many others haven’t yet slept in their cribs
The North is the paradise for my children!
The rooster crows in the morning. Poetry, carry the flames
Fly away! The bird calls at the door
Another spring day arrives. The dawn breaks
The apple branch in early summer sways with ripe fruit
Like simple happiness, small dreams
Hanging before our eyes, for all mankind:
Peace
Prosperity
For
Humanity
Happiness
Freedom!"
(January 24, 1961)
10. The Party and Poetry
Half a century: The Party and Poetry
Since then, my spirit has been joyfully lifted
Gray strands in my hair, yet thoughts remain strong
The silkworm pulls at its own life, still weaving threads
My little boat rides the waves, steady and true
A great cause flows forward, full of dreams
Only halfway through.
The journey continues
For a hundred years, the bond of the Party and Poetry!
(Spring 1987)
