…this poet murdered 50 million people:

On this tiny globe

A few flies bang against the wall

Buzzing

Sometimes angry, sometimes tearful.

Ants on the locust tree act like they’re a great nation

And mayflies talk about how easy it would be to topple a giant tree.

The west wind scatters leaves over Chang’an,

And the flying arrows twang.

How many deeds, always urgent.

The world rolls on,

Days and nights press.

Ten thousand years is too long,

Just seize the day.

The Four Seas are rising, clouds and water raging,

The Five Continents are shaking, wind and thunder rocking.

We must sweep away all pests

No one can oppose us.

—Mao Tse-tung