- written by Jenny Luo （山泉水）
- revised on 6/4/2020
The land where I lived was suddenly lost.
It was disappeared beneath the June frost.
The poor crowns cried loud while smog out of muzzle，
With the grieved hearts in hustle.
My heart was slumped and shed a tear,
Which was stirred into bubbles in bitter beer.
The blood of braves were splashed the Tian square.
The bloody flowers bloomed in frozen air.
It is time for history tree to prune.
It waked my soul up Saturday of June*.
The gun to conscience never getting loose.
Did the dead youth uncover the hidden truth?
Frost in June was trampled through the hell,
Cement of memory will forever repeat the tale.
*The day on /6/4/2016 when I originally wrote this poem is the Saturday.
