〔Traditional Chinese Culture〕An enumeration of those moving patriotic poems!

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Another National Day has arrived, and it’s time for celebration again. People hang national flags in shopping malls and on the streets to express their love for their country. Many scholars in ancient times incorporated their deep patriotic feelings into their poems and verses. Below, follow the editor as we go through those moving patriotic poems. Manjianghong by Yue Fei: Fury fills my crown; standing by the railing, the rain has ceased. Looking up and letting out a loud cry to the sky, one’s spirit is filled with passion. 　　Thirty years of fame are but dust and dirt; eight thousand miles of journey under clouds and the moon. Do not idle away your time, letting your youth pass in vain, only to end up in sorrow. 　　The shame of Jingkang remains unavenged ； The subjects’ hatred – when will it cease? Riding a long horse, I traverse it all; the Helan Mountains lie in the distance. 　　With lofty aspirations, I’ll eat the flesh of the barbarians in hunger; laughing, I’ll drink their blood when thirsty. To restore the old lands once more, and head toward the imperial palace. Crossing the Zero Ding Ocean by Wen Tianxiang: I began my journey through hardships, studying the classics; four weeks have passed in a world filled with war and conflict. 　　Mountains and rivers are in ruins, blown about by the wind; my fate is unstable, like a duckweed tossed about by the rain. 　　At the banks of Huangkong Beach, one speaks of Huangkong’s terror; in the desolate waters of Lingding Sea, one laments its desolation. 　　Since ancient times, who has never died? Let me leave behind a loyal heart to illuminate the annals of history. Spring View by Du Fu: The nation is in ruins, yet mountains and rivers remain; in the spring, the city is overgrown with grass and trees. 　　Flowers make me shed tears at the thought of times gone by; birds startle my heart at the pain of parting. 　　War rages on for three months; a letter from home is worth ten thousand gold. 　　My white hair has grown even shorter; it’s barely strong enough to hold a hairpin. To My Son, by Lu You: I know that when I die all things will be void; yet I grieve that the land shall not be united. 　　When the imperial army recovers the Central Plains, I will not forget to inform my father during our family sacrifices. Song of Everlasting Joy: Reflections at Beigu Pavilion in Jingkou, by Xin Qiji Through the ages, this land has seen heroes, yet none can be found where Sun Zhongmou once was. The splendor of pleasure halls and singing stages is always swept away by the rain and wind. 　　Under the setting sun, among the grass and trees, in ordinary alleys, people say that Jin Yu once lived there. In those days, with swords and armor, their spirit was as fierce as that of a tiger spanning ten thousand miles. 　　In a hasty manner during the Yuanjia era, they reached Langjuxu; all they gained was to look back northward in panic. At forty-three, I still recall in my mind the flames along the roads of Yangzhou. 　　Looking back, beneath the Buddha Li Temple, there was the sound of drums from the Divine Crow Society! Who dares to ask whether Lian Po, now old, is still able to eat? He Xinlang: Farewell to My Younger Brother Maojia, by Xin Qiji. Green trees listen to the cries of the crows; how can one bear the silence of the partridges and the piercing calls of the cuckoos! Crying until spring is gone and nowhere to be found, bitterly regretting that all the beauty has faded. It’s as if separation in this world has yet to occur. 　　Soon the passes will be dark with smoke, as Longmen and the imperial carriage depart the golden palace. Look at Yanyan; send her back to me. 　　The general became famous through countless battles. Looking toward the riverbank, turning back thousands of miles – old friends are forever gone. The Yi River flows softly as the west wind blows cold; all those in attendance wear clothes as white as snow. 　　The valiant warrior; the lament is not yet over. Even the singing birds know such sorrow; one can only imagine that silent tears will turn into bloodshed. Who will share with me, drunk in the moonlight? The Shrine of the Prime Minister of Shu (Zhuge Liang’s shrine is located west of the Zhaolie Temple) by Du Fu: Where can I find the shrine of the prime minister? Outside Jin Guan City, cypresses stand in dense rows. 　　The green grass by the steps retains its spring hue, while the orioles beyond the leaves sing their beautiful songs in vain. 　　Three visits out of concern for the world’s fate; two dynasties served with a loyal minister’s heart. 　　Death comes before achieving success; it always fills heroes with tears. A Quatrain in Summer, Li Qingzhao 　　 One should live as a great person; even in death, one should remain a heroic spirit. 　　 To this day, I think of Xiang Yu, who refused to cross the river to the east. Two Poems on Leaving the Frontier Wang Changling The moon was there in the Qin dynasty, and the passes remained the same in the Han dynasty; soldiers have marched thousands of miles yet still not returned. 　　But as long as the valiant general is in Longcheng, the barbarian horses shall not cross the Yin Mountains. 　　A bay horse dons a white jade saddle; after battle, the moonlight over the battlefield is cold. 　　The sound of iron drums on the city walls still echoes; the blood from the golden sword in its scabbard has not yet dried. A Sword Inlaid with Gold by Lu You: A sword adorned with gold and set in white jade, emitting light as it passes through the window at night. 　　At fifty, the husband has achieved nothing; he takes up his sword and stands alone, gazing across the vast lands. 　　In Jinghua, I befriend only extraordinary men; we pledge to stand by each other through life and death. 　　A nameless shame in the annals of a thousand years; a loyal heart devoted to the emperor. 　　Since then I’ve served by the banks of the Tianhan River, where the morning snow on the southern mountains makes them look like jade. 　　Alas! Even if just three families in Chu were able to overthrow Qin, how could the mighty China be left without anyone! On November 4th, the wind and rain were fierce – Lu You: I lie motionless in a desolate village, yet I do not feel sorrow; I still think of defending the country at Luntai. 　　At night, lying in bed, I hear the wind and rain; armored horses and frozen rivers appear in my dreams. A Song of Luntai, Presented to Lord Feng as He Sets Out on a Campaign to the West, I – Cen Shen On the walls of Luntai City, horns sound at night; north of the city, banners fall. 　　A messenger arrived at Quli last night; the Chanyu is already west of Jinshan. 　　Looking west from the watchtower, the smoke and dust appear dark; Han soldiers are stationed north of Luntai. 　　The general, adorned with his banners, set out westward; at dawn, the sound of flutes signaled the departure of the army. 　　Drums beat on all sides as the snowy sea surges; the armies shout loudly, shaking the Yin Mountains. 　　The enemy troops’ morale is as high as the clouds in their camps; on the battlefield, bones lie intertwined with the grass roots. 　　In Jianhe, the wind is fierce and snowflakes are heavy; at Shakou, the stones are frozen and horses’ hooves get stuck. 　　Yaxiang dedicated himself wholeheartedly to serving the king through hardships, vowing to repay his lord by bringing peace to the borders. 　　Throughout history, who hasn’t been remembered? Today, his achievements surpass those of the ancients.