Thirty-five of my accomplices and seven women went to Longhua yesterday and were shackled last night. Political prisoners have never been shackled to record this case. I’m too tired for a moment. I hope my brother can do it for me now, and I can tell Mr. Zhou that I don’t want to miss Mr. Zhou. The public security bureau has asked Mr. Zhou’s address several times before we were arrested, but I know that I don’t want to miss him.

Zhao Shaoxiong January 24th
face
If you can’t meet each other in two or three days, you can turn things around to Zhao Shaoxiong.
back
His mood hasn’t changed. He wants German to work harder and still remember me like when he was walking on the road. But some words in his letter are wrong political prisoners, and the shackles are not from them. But he has always seen that the officialdom is too high. Today, they are harsh, but the second letter is very different. It’s a pity that Ms. Feng’s face is swollen. It’s a pity that I didn’t copy this letter, but it’s even more complicated to say that he can redeem it. He also said that he had already gone to Nanjing and was convinced. Even his mother was anxious to get sick in Beijing, and I had to send
The colder the weather gets, I don’t know where Rou Shi is bedding. We are tin bowls. Have we arrived yet? But suddenly I got a reliable message that 23 other people in Rou Shi were shot in Longhua garrison headquarters on the night of February 7 or the morning. He was shot ten times.
Come here
In the middle of the night, I was surrounded by junk in the inn yard. People were asleep, even my women and children. I felt deeply that I had lost a good friend, China, and a good youth. I was silent in grief and indignation, but I looked up from the silence and made up these words.
It’s customary to slap a woman’s hair on her young temples when it’s spring in the long night.
In my dream, I vaguely shed tears for my loving mother, and the flag of the king changed.
Endure to watch peers become new ghosts and look for poems from the knife cluster.
Sing and write with low eyebrows, moonlight and water shine on the clothes.
But the last two sentences were later inaccurate, and I finally wrote this to a Japanese singer.
But in China at that time, the writing place was indeed more tightly imprisoned than canned food. I remember that Rou Shi had lived in his hometown for a long time at the end of the year. After he went to the sea, he was scolded by his friends. He told me that his mother had lost her eyes and asked him to stay for a few more days. How could he leave? I knew that her mother was concerned about Rou Shi’s boxing heart. When Beidou was founded, I wanted to write something about Rou Shi, but I couldn’t choose a woodcut of Mrs. Kohler Hui KaeheKllwiz, saying that the sacrifice was a mother’s sad sacrifice. It was only in my heart that I knew that Rou Shi
At the same time, Li Weisen, four young writers who were stumped, I have never seen Hu Yepin in the sea, and I have met him once. After a few days of familiarity, he is considered a white man, that is, a yin fu. He once wrote a manuscript through a letter, but now he must have burned it all on the night of the seventeenth. At that time, I didn’t know that he was arrested, but Peter Fei’s poem was turned over and there was nothing to write a four-line translation with a pen next to a Wahlspruh maxim.
Life is precious.
Love is more expensive.
If there is a reason,
Both can be thrown.
On the second page, Xu Peigen is written. I suspect this is his real name.
five
Today, the year before last, I hid in the inn, but they went to the execution ground. Today, last year, I fled in the British Concession in a cannon, and they were already buried in an unknown place. Today, I was sitting in the old apartment, and people were asleep. Even my women and children felt that I had lost my good friend China and my good youth. I went to silence in grief and indignation, but I looked up from silence and wrote those words.
It’s strange to write in China, where I haven’t written yet. When I was young, I thought about the old fu. He just started with a few lines, but now I understand.
I’m not young and old, but in these thirty years, I’ve witnessed many young people’s blood build up and bury me so hard that I can’t breathe. I can write a few articles in this way, which is like digging a small hole in the soil to breathe. What kind of world is this? The night is long and the road is long. I won’t forget not to say yes, but I know that it’s not the time when I will always remember them to talk about them in the future.
7 February
Mourn yang quan
What lofty sentiments are like the old days?
There are two reasons for flowers falling.
Tears spilled in Jiang Nanyu.
You Simin cries for athletes