Baota is the arm, Yan'an is the holy water
Looking up to Yan'an, the holy words to comfort the pilgrims
Hide among green mountain and green water
And the palms of people
The distant journey is holding the secret of high-speed rail
And a train painted green and a brief flight
Those who arrive in Yan'an in advance, are all famous words that have been carried by Boeing
And I can't do it, I am always in the sky, lighting up the stars
In the cloud, I have modified too many“defective sentences”that are too fluent in grammar
In my opinion, the journey of life has been confirmed and the date cannot be changed at will
My one-way car has carried my Baota and pen
That is all my belongings I dedicate to this world
It is also the wealth and dream I dedicate to Yan'an
I had been here, alone
In 1930s and 1940s
At that time, I was still a woodcut that had been thirsty for a long time
Like woodcut of Lu Xun, woodcut of Nanniwan, woodcut of paper cutting
Yan'an is water, the holy water of the revolution
Yanhe River is the largest water bureau in China
Water floods the gold mountain, it's equivalent to the water covering Yan'an
It is equal to submerge the crops of the whole world
The revolutionary fertile land, the fertile land of thought, the fertile fields of Asia, Africa and Latin America
Are watered and nourished by it
It tells the thought and ambition
Oh Yan'an, when did you change, and became the Jiangnan of northern Shaanxi
What kind of old site is it, so in the jujube garden, in Yangjialing
I find a stone mill of conscience and justice
I pray for it on the Baota and bless Yan'an
Why are there so many waters, so many watery, wet verses, aphorisms, quatrains back to Yan'an
When they are polished
They all are rushing to you, some tossing and turning, some broken into pieces
I am like a snow mountain, like a clear mirror in a high hall being sad for white hair
I come from the distant paradise Sichuan, walking with the strow sandals of poetry
I am a hero with a posture of a rifle and millet
I have been here, in the Baota Mountain
I clench the wind and waves of the mast and hold the truth of the sail
I have been to the vocabulary here and the river that you can read loudly
In fact, I have never been to Yan'an in the past
For respect and remembrance, this is the first time I approach its heart
I have used the holy land of Yan'an as a sea to swim in my lifetime
I have nurtured the Baota as the forest of poetry
The love of whole life is too short, my empty space or plain without obstacle
And where my dreams can reach
Have bloomed, have grown the grain of the arm
May the rush of the arm, grow mountains, grow brightness
May it grow blazing happiness and soul
Li Ziguo: Male, the pseudonym Xicun, deputy editor of the Star Poetry Journal, a first-class writer.