Snow – Mao Zedong

North country scene: 

A hundred leagues locked in ice, 

A thousand leagues of whirling snow. 

Both sides of the Great Wall 

One single white immensity. 

The Yellow River’s swift current 

Is stilled from end to end. 

The mountains dance like silver snakes 

And the highlands* charge like wax-hued elephants, 

Vying with heaven in stature. 

On a fine day, the land, 

Clad in white, adorned in red, 

Grows more enchanting. 
This land so rich in beauty 

Has made countless heroes bow in homage. 

But alas! Chin Shih-huang and Han Wu-ti 

Were lacking in literary grace, 

And Tang Tai-tsung and Sung Tai-tsu 

Had little poetry in their souls; 

And Genghis Khan, 

Proud Son of Heaven for a day, 

Knew only shooting eagles, bow outstretched 

All are past and gone! 

For truly great men 

Look to this age alone.

English Poem – Mad As The Mist And Snow

Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.

Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully’s open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?

You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,
What makes me shudder so?
I shudder and I sigh to think
That even Cicero
And many-minded Homer were
Mad as the mist and snow.

William Butler Yeats