Seven Rhythms - With Comrade Zhou Shizhao

October 1955

The spring river is so vast and temporarily wandering, and I am looking at the peaks again.

The wind rises from the oasis and blows the waves away, while the rain comes from the green fields and the mountains.

The people who talk and laugh in front of the respect are still the same, but the chicken and insects outside the country are sad.

Don't lament the easy passage of time, 30 years still to Huxie Terrace