2024 New Year Poetry Gala Outstanding Works Exhibition
Teacher group No. 18 guest Ye Ye
Author: Ou Zhen.
If the earth is a harp.
Then the Yangtze River is one of the strings.
In the bosom of the sky.
It has been ringing tirelessly.
If the Yangtze River is a harp.
Then my heart is one of the strings.
I tremble at it all the time.
The great river goes east, and the river will be eternal.
It has traversed 5,000 years of civilization.
From the Book of Songs to Tang and Song poems.
Again and again, it crashed against the shore.
Roll up thousands of piles of snow.
The long wind and waves are straight to the cloud sails.
It's like a diving river.
It flows in the depths of history.
So far, I think of Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong.
Success or failure turns empty, and a river flows eastward.
The Yangtze River never cares about the rise and fall of the world.
The surging river did not extinguish any of the flames of war.
A bright moon and a slanting sun on the river.
and one legend after another.
Turning into a hero when he took the wine with an exclamation.
It becomes a masterpiece in the poet's work.
I grew up on the banks of the Yangtze River.
I remember the sails coming upstream.
I remember the fishing fire across the river.
I remember the wind on the river and the reeds dancing in the wind.
I remember the rolling waves and the white gulls flying in the waves.
I remember that rape blossoms bloomed on both sides of the river, turning spring into paradise.
I remember the fragrance of rice flowers in the south of the Yangtze River and the north of the Yangtze River, and the scene of a bumper harvest everywhere.
I still remember those educated youths who crowded off the boat with their luggage on their backs during the Spring Festival.
I still remember the tearful relatives who sent the recruits on the shore.
I still remember the floodwaters that flooded the farmers' grass houses on Jiangxinzhou.
I still remember the sweat on the faces of the dock workers on deck carrying cargo.
I grew up on the banks of the Yangtze River.
I used to run along the embankment in the morning.
It's not every day that you can see the sun rise as usual.
But you can see the river rushing every day.
Even in the daytime when dark clouds weigh down the earth and the earth cannot breathe.
Even on snowy and moonless nights.
We can still hear the melody of Oe.
Sometimes it chants, sometimes it sings.
Sometimes the tide rises, sometimes it moves forward.
From the toddler upstream.
Stride meteors to the middle and lower reaches.
The Yangtze River is like a child.
Grow bravely and move forward fearlessly.
My endless Yangtze River.
You are the river of glitter under the sky.
You are the river that flows in my blood.
You are a ringing arrow shot from the snow-capped mountains of Gradandong.
You are a great nation holding up an arm of the rising sun.
You are a love poem written from the land to the sea.
And at this moment, Oh Oe.
You are in this hymn I wrote for you.
A clear line of verse!