Poems of Mao
21. Reply to Mr. Liu Ya-tsu [October 1950]
Reply to Mr. Liu Ya-tsu [October 1950]
[a tsu, to the melody ‘Sands by the Washer’s Brook’, Wan Hsi Sha]
[translated by Nancy Lin]
While watching performances during the National Day Celebrations in 1950, Mr. Liu Ya-tsu wrote an impromptu poem to the melody ‘Sands by the Washer’s Brook’. Herewith my reply, using the same rhymes.
Night hung heavy over the Crimson Land,
Day sought to break in vain.
A century of demons’ reeling dance;
A ruined hearth for the five hundred million!
At the first cock, light dawns on earth;
From all quarters comes music of jubilance.
Our poet’s spirits soar ever so high
At the rise of old Khotan strains!
Notes [by Nancy Lin]
October 1, 1949 Chairman Mao formally announced from Tien An Men the founding of the People’s Republic of China and declared to the world: “The Chinese people have stood up and the days when China might be insulted and bullied are gone forever!”
October 1, 1950 saw the anniversary of that auspicious date.
The present poem was written in reply to Liu Ya-tsu’s impromptu verse composed on the 3rd evening of celebrations in the Hall of Cherished Virtues (Huaijen Tang), where troupes of the minority peoples gave their performances as tokens of the grand unity of new China.
The Crimson Land is a classical nomenclature for China dating from the Warring States days.
A century of demons’ dance alludes to the period of imperialist aggression after the Opium War of 1840.
Five hundred million was the estimated population in China as known in 1950.
Khotan strains refers to a Kazak song Full Moon given by the troupe from Sinkiang which Liu specifically mentioned in his poem.
[the following is a translation of Liu Ya-tsu’s poem, found at marxists.org]
LIU YA-TZU'S POEM [to the tune of Wan Hsi Sha]
On October 3, I attended a soirée in Huai Jen Tang. Performances were given by ensembles from the various nationalities in the Southwest, Sinkiang, Yenpien in Kirin Province, and Inner Mongolia. At Chairman Mao's request, I composed the following poem to celebrate the great unity of the nationalities.
Displays of fiery trees and silver flowers, a night without darkness.
Brothers and sisters skip by gracefully in dance.
The strains of the Full Moon rise with joyful swell.
But for one man's wise leadership,
How could the hundred nationalities assemble?
This merry eve's festive gathering surpasses all!
[next - 22. At Peitaiho]