Have you read Lin Huiyin's poems? Give you a different Lin Huiyin

Mr. Lin Huiyin's gossip network is all over the place.

You may have relished her wild history with Xu Zhimo and Jin Yuelin.

You may have also gently read "You Are an April Day on Earth."

However, what I want to recommend here is "Crying Three Brothers Heng".

The poem is very long, without Lin Huiyin's hazy romance and swaying, and the words are like blood and weeping!

If I hadn't happened to see this poem, as Mr. Lin said, "The portrait of the Chinese people has forgotten, for whom are you dying?"

How many teenagers, like Mr. Brother, threw their heads and spilled blood, but there was no inscription and no name.

Their passion, like the retrogrades of our pandemic today, deserves to be recorded and celebrated.

Crying three brothers Heng

Brother, I don't have a language that suits the times

Come and mourn your death;

It is what the times demand of you,

Simple, you give.

This cold and simple grandeur is the poetry of the times

This silent glory is you.

Suppose this is an unavoidable truth

Much to give sorrow, I want to cry out,

That's -- you know it yourself --

Because you left too early,

Too early, brother, hard for your bravery,

Mechanical obsolescence, your chances are too miserable!

Three years later, you died over Chengdu,

The difference between these three years of time,

If I tell you, don't be sad,

Because most of them are not our old country,

It's the others rolling in the times,

Our souls bleed and explode into holes.

We have allies, supplies and arms,

Exactly what you ever hoped for.

I remember, I remember how I was with you

Discussion and discussion, counting and counting,

Every day you wait so patiently,

Every day is empty, slow as a camel!

Now the destroyer is not the ideal for you that day

Driving the "Eagle Seven Five" like that —

So stupid, so slow, ah, brother don't be sad,

You've done what you can,

Don't say who wronged you, it is the times that cannot be measured,

China still has to go forward, and the night is waiting for dawn.

Brother, I have used these many unbeautiful words

It's a poem to mourn you,

Believe how bitter my heart is, how dumb my throat is,

You'll never come back, I know,

The enthusiasm of youth has done the replacement of science;

China's sorrow will always sink in my heart.

Ah, don't be sad, sad I can't give comfort.

I thought about that a few times a day:

You have given you all, the brethren who went with you

The same is true, give your life;

Everything that is young; there will be opportunities in the future,

Possible prime-age work, old age wisdom;

Possible love, family, children, and all that

The right to be born, the joy, and the dispute of life!

You have given so much, for whom? You believe

How many people in China will be happy in the future

Your head is more important than your own; that is immortal

China's history also needs to be perpetuated in the world.

You believe, you do, and in the end you hand over everything.

Since I fully understand, why am I still crying for you?

Just because you're a child and you don't have anything left for yourself,

When I was young, I looked forward to your happiness, your safety in wartime,

Today you have no children to worry about and need to be comforted and comforted,

And the portraits of thousands of people have forgotten, for whom you died!