Mao Zedong
Autumn 1925
Ch’ang-sha
Standing alone in the autumn cold:The Hsiang flowing northward,Orange Island, the cape.I see thousands of hills in crimsoned view,The woods piling up in deep-dye;The mighty stream, in its gleam of jade,One hundred barques racing by.Eagles high up, cleaving the space,Fish gliding above shallow ground;Ten thousand creatures, under frosty a sky,all fighting for freedom. In the waste’s dreariness brooding,I ask the blue space without bonds:Who masters fate’s rise and descent? Once I came here with a hundred companions,Vivid the months and years yet, filled… Read More »