By Mao Zedong
The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March,
Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents.
The Five Ridges wind like gentle ripples,
And the majestic Wumeng roll by globules of clay.
Warm the steep cliffs lapped by the waters of Golden Sand,
Cold the iron chains spanning the Dadu River.
Minshan's thousand li of snow joyously crossed,
The three Armies march on, each face glowing.
