lonely looking for food.
dad had paid his “blood debt” –
“village bully” by the “Peasants’ Union” subdued.
mom had left her behind helpless,
flee to the South, the Party to elude.
she was just born,
with mother’s milk, sleeping in cozy bed,
with flowered soft shirts,
had not noticed such happiness instead.
the movement was launched to its height,
would think of an unfortunate fate?
between humans and humans
always is compassion to demonstrate.
there was an indigent old man
groped for crabs to live from day to day
happened to meet the puny kid
parents had parted for far,
suddenly felt pity for the orphan
shared with her his scant chow.
limbs scraggy like sticks,
being bulgy, neck bent as to bow,
eyes round and red-rimmed,
diffidently stared at passers-by to slur:
me some gruel, madam!
little rice, please, sir!”
was a female cadre
mobilizing the hamlet’s mass to compete
heard the lost cry;
looked towards the street
shuddered to remember
famine in the far-off year – who believes?
just only five years old,
to lick the cake-wrapping leaves
the market, then ran to the alley
lead her younger brother home all right
snapped giving him a half,
handful of rice spared overnight.
poorest-peasant key activist
her head, tears starting to her eyes:
“Although being a landlord’s child,
is too young to know what horrifies.
time I gave her a bowl of gruel;
was therefore put to the rack for three days.”
team’s leader then stepped back
contemplate the orphan in various ways,
to look for any certain enemy‘s track,
found only a human, truly.
child having been fed
down on the ground and slept fully.
dreamt, “Our babies in the future
be embraced and breast-fed duly.”
assignment was to be dismissed
her acting so had been caught.
lit the dim lamp in the cold night
write her self-criticism report.
of the boneless tongue
is not steel but it cuts as in an abattoir;
of the dim-sighted
cannot see horizons broad and far;
of the lazy brain
is all rusty like a corroded iron bar
long years sleeping soundly
the classic pages of hatred promoting art;
of the robotic bodies
of tendons but lacking a heart.
“Connected with reactionaries!”
one’s political standpoint guard!”
cried many nights continuously.
oil lamp was so hazy and hard.
asked herself and retorted:
have pity on a foe’s child though fair?
I able to hate the kid
would I have been free from care!”