Chapter 17 I use my damaged palm

I use my damaged palm I use my damaged palm To grope the vast land: this corner has been reduced to ashes, That corner is nothing but blood and mud; this lake should be my home, (In spring, flowers bloom on the embankment like brocade barriers, and the broken willow branches give off a strange fragrance) I have touched the coolness of the algae and water; the snowy peaks of Changbai Mountain are so cold to the bone, The water and sand of the Yellow River slide out between the fingers; the paddy fields in the south of the Yangtze River, Your newly born grass was so thin and soft... now there is only basil;

The lychee flowers in Lingnan are lonely and haggard, as far as the other side, I am dipping in the bitter water of no fishing boats in the South China Sea... The invisible palm flits across the infinite rivers and mountains, the fingers are stained with blood and ashes, the palm is sticky with darkness, Only that remote corner is still intact, warm, clear, strong and vigorous. On it I caress with my broken palm, like a lover's soft hair, the milk of a baby's hand. I put all my strength in the palm of my hand and put it on, sending love and all hope, Because only there is the sun and spring, which will drive away the darkness and bring revival,

Because only there we don't live like cattle and die like ants... There, eternal China!