April’s Yan Mountain
By Wang Yongli
Yan Mountain in April wakes up from the winter’s embrace,
But into dream in peach, apricot, and red flowers’fragrance,
A young father, bare robust chest, yells,
With the leopard like rough long yo-heave-ho calls,
Raising a round sun with cooking smoke over the valley,
He leaned his healthy muscle waist in the moment,
Put the iron plow deep into the earth with movement,
Let the strong bovine powerful and wide feet down,
Crush the mountains frost locked dawn.
The deep-turned soil is black like sea-waves, ,
A young woman is sowing in the new grooves.
Her rosy face is like a camellia indeed,
In the rays crystal fine sweat she pays noheed.
She is throwing up the seeds and burring them to initiate,
She sows the hopes into the fertile soil to inoculate.
Her sweat beads like milk beads are rolling downwards,
Enchanted the April breeze upwards.
After eliminating the tax, all farmers beam,
Their well-to-do life is no longer a distant dream.
Talking loving honestand honeyed words in instinct,
The young couple’s ferity has been arisen with interact,
Let every piece of muscle burst out vitality,
All will be paid back by the land in stability.
His crisp whip sounds and sonorous pace
Make the soil shook and surrendered to his mace,
She puffs out her plump chest, wiping the sweat,
And she sows the love deeply into the land in sweet.
Behind them, a little girl is running,
While she imitates the cuckoo’s calling,
Picked up a big hug of blooming wild flowers,
She spreads them all over the ridge and the grooves...