Spring Swallows Return and Nest in the Trees

Alas! The world is in a state of flux, and wars are on the rise. The jinghui blocks the sun, and the rhinoceros stirs the earth. Master Wang suddenly arrived like a tiger, with white blades flying and falling hazelnuts blocking the path; Guizhou's head was in a panic like a frightened muntjac, with yellow dust blinding his eyes and turning away. The hometown has become a Shura field, where all the grains and millet are eaten, and the burnt huts are filled with wisps of smoke. In the ruins, jackdaws are noisy on the dead trees, and the streets are crowded with sun. Only skulls can be seen lying on their pillows, with green blood. The strong men are all gone, and the old and the weak are stuck in the ravines. The wind is blowing in the grass, the frost is biting the bones, and the sick woman is tattered and leaning against the wall, her breath is like a gossamer, waiting to die. The childish cry of cold and hunger makes his voice hoarse and no one in the street responds. There may be children who are trying to survive, but they look at each other with tears, and their livers and intestines are broken; there are also sights of corpses being dissected and smoke rising, fishy filth rising into the sky, and ghosts and gods weeping together. Wild dogs gnawed at the corpse, and its belly swelled under the wall; hungry eagles pecked at the eyes, circling as if they were in love with the smell of the ruins. There are no chickens and dogs in the surrounding fields, and there are only solitary concubines in nine empty rooms. The wormwood is shinless and has devoured the old well platform; where the ruins are broken, new ghosts are seen crying every now and then. The old man looked at the beacon with a stick and shed tears: "No seeds in spring, no harvest in autumn, no clothes in winter, life is like death!" The woman buried her baby at her breast and cried, her fingernails were cracked and the earth was still wet: "But I want to die quickly, and don't feed the wolves!"