Chapter 62 Poetry (1)

Thanks to the irony of life for mocking me, The throat that can sing is hoarse and becomes a wordless song. A veil-like emotion, originally ethereal, Now it's all covered with clumsy patches. On the shoulders first stir up two loads of clouds, With radiance to arrange in the calm sky; Now the darkness sinks down the truth of reality, The soul and the spine of hunger will be crushed together! I dare not ask how life should be now pant!Experience wears out like the soles of old shoes, On this divergent road, stones and mud are blurred, It is still convenient to go barefoot, to recognize new hard work.

Written in Peking in 1947