In Wang's Dīngzihù*, the poem explores the unyielding defiance of a man who refuses to let go of his home in the face of relentless urban development. Wang’s small "nail"house becomes a symbol of resistance, standing firm against powerful tycoons and the machinery of progress. As legal battles and societal pressures mount, Wang’s fight is not just for his land, but for his identity and legacy. It deepens the themes of personal pride and resilience, capturing the timeless struggle to protect what truly matters in a changing world.


Upon the hill where shadows fall,
Stands Wang’s small home, defying all.
The tycoons came with gold in hand,
To claim his patch of cherished land.
"Your home is old, its time has passed,
Our towers rise; this won’t outlast."
But Wang stood firm, his voice was clear:
"This house is mine; I’ll keep it here."

 

They brought machines to shake the ground,
Yet still his walls were safe, profound.
He faced the courts, the threats, the might,
And never once gave up the fight.
For Wang, the bricks held more than stone,
They held his past, his dreams, his own.
Against the tide, he made his stand,
A simple man who held his land.

 

The cranes loomed high, the skyline grew,
Yet Wang’s resolve remained in view.
A beacon bright in progress’ wake,
To show the world what pride can take.
Through sleepless nights and days of rain,
He fought with heart, endured the pain.
His neighbors watched, some took his side,
Others left, with nowhere to hide.

 

The law came down, the verdict cold,
But Wang would not be bought or sold.
They promised wealth, a life of ease,
But Wang held tight to his old trees.
No golden coin could sway his heart,
No shining lure could tear apart
The bond he had with earth and sky,
For in his soul, it couldn’t die.

 

They brought the bulldozers, strong and loud,
To raze the past, to join the crowd.
But Wang stood tall, unwavering still,
A man of courage, iron will.
His hands were scarred, his spirit worn,
Yet he refused to be reborn
As just another face in line,
To lose his name, his place, his sign.

 

The towers rose and crowded in,
The world around him spun and spun.
Yet Wang’s small home remained in sight,
A symbol of the ancient fight.
And though the city claimed its space,
It could not touch that sacred place.
For in the hearts of those who knew,
Wang’s stubborn stand would see them through.

 

The cranes loomed high, the skyline grew,
Yet Wang’s resolve remained in view.
A beacon bright in progress’ wake,
To show the world what pride can take.
The world moved on, the years flew fast,
But Wang’s small home still stands at last.
For in his heart, the land lives on—
A legacy that can’t be gone.

* householder who refuses to vacate/give up his home despite pressure from property developers