Long Nights
Lu Xun
Used to the long nights of spring time,
My hair grows white as I hide with my wife and son;
Dreams show my dear mother in tears
And the chieftains’ flags over the city are always changing.
Cruel to see my friends become fresh ghosts!
Raging I turn on the bayonets and write these lines.
Will they ever see print? I frown,
While moonlight glimmers like liquid on my dark gown.