Are you a senior software engineer in China looking only at technology on the Internet? Sad.

Are you a senior software engineer in China looking only at technology on the Internet? Sad.
I can't help sending it.

Praise Cha Liangzhu (1918--1977), pen name Mu Dan

The ups and downs of endless mountains, rivers and grassland,
Countless dense villages, jimming and dog bark,
Successively on the land of the original desolate Asia,
The dry wind is blowing in the wild grass,
Singing monotonous east streams of water in the dark clouds of low pressure,
There are countless burial ages in the gloomy forest
They quietly hugged me:
Endless stories are endless disasters and silence.
Is love, is an e group flying in the sky,
Is dry eyes looking forward to the burst of tears,
When the gray lines of the queue crawl in the distant sky;
I have too many words, too long feelings,
I want to take the desert, the bumpy path, the zombie car,
I want to use troughs, wild flowers in the mountains, and rainy weather,
I want to hug you with everything, you
People I see everywhere,
People who live in shame, people who bend down,
I want to hug you with a bloody hand,
Because a nation has already joined.

A farmer, his rough body moved in the field,
He is a woman's child, the father of many children,
How many dynasties have risen and landed on him?
Put hope and disappointment on him,
And he always rotates behind the plow without words,
Turning the same soil to dissolve his ancestor,
The image of the same suffering is solidified on the road.
How many pleasant songs have passed on the road,
How many times has it come to him,
People speak on the road, shouting, cheerful,
However, he didn't. He only put down the ancient hoe,
Once again, I believe in my words and believe in the love of the masses,
Firmly, he watched himself dissolve into death,
This path is infinitely long,
But he cannot shed tears,
He does not shed tears, because a nation has risen.

Surrounded by mountains, under the blue sky,
When he passes through his home in spring and autumn,
The deepest valley hides the most subtle sorrow:
An old lady looks forward to children, and many children look forward
Hunger, and patience in hunger,
The dark huts still gather along the road,
The same is unknown fear, the same is
The erosion of the soil of life in nature,
And he never turned back and cursed.
For him, I want to hug everyone,
For him, I lost the comfort of a hug,
Because of him, we cannot give happiness,
Cry, let's cry on him,
Because a nation has already joined.
The same is the long history,
The same thing is that it is dispersed from the entire eaves.
Endless moans and cold,
It sings on the top of a withered tree,
It blew through the desert swamp, Reed and insects,
The same is the sound of the Flying Crow,
When I walked over and stood on the road,
I am drawing on the history of shame for years
Still waiting in the vast mountains and rivers,
Waiting, we have too much pain,
However, a nation has been up,
However, a nation has risen.