Song of the Azalea
(partial lyrics found in Chapter 4: Shih Yee)

Misty, misty March days,
Azaleas blossom on the hills and in the vales,
Azaleas blossom along the brook, what a beautiful sight to behold!
Like the village maiden,
Like the village maiden who climbed the hillside last year,
Singing a sweet, sweet song with her beloved,
She picked an azalea and with it, adorned her hair.

Like the village maiden who came to the brook this year,
She sees the azaleas are blossoming,
Remembering her beloved on the battlefield;
She picks a fresh red azalea, and looks toward the flames of war,
She raises it toward the horizon,

Beloved, when you return from the battlefield,
I will place this azalea on your chest, no longer to adorn my hair.

Misty, misty March days,
Azaleas blossom on the hills and in the vales,
Azaleas blossom along the brook, a beautiful sight to behold!

Like the village maiden, like the village maiden …
Ah … Ah …

—–

The Song of the Azalea, a song taught by Shih Yee to Kenneth in the
early part of the book is now available for you to hear. This is an
instrumental version with an erhu and piano. Thanks to Kenneth’s two
friends who helped make the recording. Try it. Any problems with
the file, please leave a comment. Thanks. 

You can download the mp3 file here. You should be able to hear it in Windows Media Player or any music player.

March of the Volunteers
(partial lyrics found in Chapter 1: Iron Soldier)

Arise! Arise!
Thousands of
hearts unite.
Face the
enemy’s fire—march!
Face the
enemy’s fire—march!
March! March!
March!
—–

Shung Far River
(partial lyrics found in Chapter 2: Run. Dive. Run.)

My home lies near the Shung Far River in the northeast.
There are ancient forests and coal mines,
Soya beans and crops abound on the mountains.
My home lies near the Shung Far River in the northeast,
There live my countrymen, my dear old parents.

September 18, September 18, ever since that day of heartbreak,
September 18, September 18, ever since that day of sorrow,
I have escaped, travelling far away from home,
Leaving behind abundant treasures.
September 18, September 18, from that tragic time,

Far away from home, leaving behind abundant treasures.
Wandering! Wandering! Unceasing wandering! All these days,
What month? What year? When can I return to my beloved home?
What month? What year? When can I reclaim our abundant treasures?
Oh, dear parents, dear parents! Will we be reunited together again?

—–