英译---
Away! You ,God of Plague
Poplars and willows plentiful in the vernal wind,
Six hundred millions are all saints like Shun and Yao.
Peach flowers swirls in waves at our wishes,
And green hills turn to bridges as if they know our desires.
Shining picks remove mountains heavenly high,
And our iron arms rock the earth and three rivers.
You, Mr. Plague, where do you want to go, may I ask?
Paper boats and candles burnt for you blazing to the sky.
(Translation: 赵老师)

|