By  Wang Yongli

            I do not believe you any more,
            My false friend, although I am not your foe,
            You cut off my means of subsistence,
            By your public hazard and effluence,
            You depopulate my tribe by reclaiming forestland,
            You make the vegetation soil become sand,
            You set fire to develop wildness with glee,
            My sisters desperately scream all around me.
            When death is a relief, and the only destiny,
            Will I be dragooned into tranquility?
           
            I climb up a hill and ask to the Heaven,
            Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, even?
            Where is a green mountain, where is my home?
            The desert, scorched earth, wasted foam?
            Can hardly be the subject of surprise?
            Where is the last paradise?
            For nature give us the equal sunbeams,
            Not do you stop the vicious flames?
            Yes, no more than what I wanted is a peaceful earth,
            Hope a better season less bitter fruit bring forth