Three Short Poems
Mao Tsé-Tung
1 min min read
Three Short Poems
Mountains!
I whip my swift horse, glued to my saddle.
I turn my head startled,
The sky is three foot three above me!
Mountains!
Like great waves surging in a crashing sea,
Like a thousand stallions
In full gallop in the heat of battle.
Mountains!
Piercing the blue of heaven, your barbs unblunted!
The skies would fall
But for your strength supporting.
Mountains!
I whip my swift horse, glued to my saddle.
I turn my head startled,
The sky is three foot three above me!
Mountains!
Like great waves surging in a crashing sea,
Like a thousand stallions
In full gallop in the heat of battle.
Mountains!
Piercing the blue of heaven, your barbs unblunted!
The skies would fall
But for your strength supporting.