old gray donkey

 

old gray donkey

 

An aging and tired old gray donkey talked about his miserable fate with his donkey Mahu and sang the sad "Song of Misery":

 

My hometown is Biliang, Mobei.

There are desolate mountains and rivers everywhere,

Get up early and work hard every year,

Work hard every day in silence.

 

The donkey struggled with suffering all his life,

Farming is endless work,

No way to walk, no food or water,

The miserable donkey was beaten from time to time.

 

The old gray donkey said to the donkey horse owner: Before the spring plowing that year, my donkey friend, under the whip of his master, pulled a cart and transported the burned ashes and manure stored in the livestock pen for a year to the fields to be used as fertilizer. Spread it all over the ground shovel by shovel. When the owner was shoveling manure, due to his carelessness, he broke my travel companion's ankle tendon. My travel companion was startled and jumped forward suddenly. One of his legs was raised in the air and could not fall to the ground. He was bleeding instantly. . The traveler who was standing on three legs finally couldn't hold on any longer, so he collapsed next to the dung pile, like a sick child, with the unruly and rebellious look in his eyes long gone. The donkey friend was disabled and was dragged to the market by his owner to sell his meat, which became donkey meat paste and donkey-hide gelatin.

A week later, the owner bought me back home. As soon as I walked in, I blinked my unfamiliar eyes and looked at this impoverished home, seemingly a little disappointed. As a result, he is like a ga boy who loses his temper all the time, blows his beard and stares, shakes his head and shakes his butt. The owner was patient enough. When he got up in the morning, he tentatively scratched my donkey's belly with a broom, touched my donkey's neck with his palms, and smoothed the donkey hair all over my body with the broom, as if combing my hair. Mixed with a bowl of my favorite forage, I can enjoy a satisfying breakfast. Later, sure enough, I saw that the owner's eyes became much gentler. From then on, I became the master’s labor tool obediently.

Now that I am getting older, the gentle look my master gave me has gradually become fierce. He has forgotten what I have done, and he has also forgotten that one day he will grow old.

Although the aging old gray donkey lamented his fate, he still sang the sad and confident "When We Get Old":

 

When we get old,

I can't pull the cart.

Can't bear the weight,

The fields cannot be plowed;

We will be abandoned.

 

When we get old,

I can’t find my youth again,

Can't see the vision clearly,

Can't get true love,

We will live worse than death.

 

When we get old,

No more dreams,

No more lies,

No more hope,

Only then will we wake up and be liberated.

 

Fame and fortune will be blown away by the wind,

Suffering will be taken away by the clouds,

When we get old,

only confidence

And will sing with us,

Sing together.