My thought when I was reading one of these in class (in China) was that Cao Cao's poetry seemed quite a bit better. It was quite a dissonance. Mao's poetry seemed (even to the fairly uneducated me) less artistic than those by Li Bai or Guo Moruo, but they were reasonably well-crafted. The classical form did not help either. It was as if seeing Roosevelt writing poetry in the style of Ovid.

"Though the Tortoise Lives Long

Though the tortoise blessed with magic powers lives long, Its days have their allotted span;

Though winged serpents ride high on the mist, They turn to dust and ashes at the last;

An old war-horse may be stabled, Yet still it longs to gallop a thousand li;

And a noble-hearted man though advanced in years Never abandons his proud aspirations.

Man's span of life, whether long or short, Depends not on Heaven alone;

One who eats well and keeps cheerful Can live to a great old age.

And so, with joy in my heart, I hum this song."

I know nothing of Chinese literature, but my impression from those who do was that Mao wasn't much of a poet.