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It's snowing hard,
The river froze.
We finished the nation's war,
But now we fight our own people.
Conscription would not reach rich men,
It only reached after my son, over twenty years old.
I entreated heaven, heaven did not respond,
I pleaded with the earth, the earth had no power.
I begged other people, but no one sympathized.
I cried my eyes dry, dreading the arrival of dawn
For at dawn my son was to report to the army camp.
While my son was asleep,
And the neighborhood lay in total silence.
Ah, my son,
Don't blame your mother for being too cruel,
Don't blame your mother for being too cruel.'
I took needles.
Two steel needles,
And plunged them into my son's eyes.
He screamed and blood spurted out.
Ah, my son, they don't take a blind man in the army.