The so-called Iraqis are on the water side.
Go back and follow it, it's a long way,
Swim back from it, in the middle of the water
-"The Book of Songs Qin Feng"
Climbing up the ancient city wall and stroking the mossy columns and beams, when I lean against the railing and look into the distance excitedly, there will always be a trace of acidity in my throat, and I will always hear a voice saying loudly: Remember? Your ancestor's name is Yanhuang.
Someone told me that a big fish once lived in that part of Beijing. It became a giant bird, soaring between heaven and earth. The wings of giant birds hang in the sky like clouds. Although ten thousand flies into the sky. The sages have given us a heart that can contain the sky and shaped a vast and magnificent hall for us.
At that time, there was a strange young man named Ji Kang. Before his execution, he played a unique tune, with a wide robe and ribbon fluttering in the wind. He faced death with the most elegant gesture. Thousands of years later, there are still echoes, but he doesn't know that what is really cut is not the music score, but his pride and even his clothes.
I also dream of going back to the Tang Dynasty and traveling around the world with a poet named Li Bai. He drank wine with the cold light on his sword, and his lover was the moon in the sky. I have seen him wandering under the moon, singing and singing. The long wind blew away his hair band, and his robe was as elegant as a fairy.
But then the emperor changed, and a glass of wine took the literati and abandoned the military commander. His descendants finally hid in paradise on earth and handed over a large area of land. But in the cold north, there are troops on the battlefield, and the enemy says we can't beat Yue Jiajun. Unfortunately, heroes are taboo, people are arrogant, and a ray of loyal soul finally dissipates near the West Lake, so the spirit of a nation is irreversibly extinct. However, in the bloody sunset, I vaguely saw someone insert it into the soil, which was used by the general, an unyielding tassel gun.
The wheel of time turned round and round, and finally lost its way in Shen Jia. So on the banks of Slender West Lake and Meihualing, an ancestral temple was built to commemorate this tragedy. The weak scholar named Shi Kefa didn't want to spread his high bun, let alone take off the clothes left by his ancestors, so he decided to save * * * with the city, lost his life and protected his faith. Cruel killings and mountains of bones can't bury the national spirit. Some people believe that it will still shine on China after thousands of years.
Today, thousands of years later, I am sitting in the lobby of McDonald's. I am wearing Gucci fashion. I sang a song "My heart will go on" casually, but my heart was broken inexplicably, because I heard a voice saying loudly: Have you forgotten? Your ancestor's name is Yanhuang.
I remember that a group of brown-haired and blue-eyed jackals, with strong boats and guns, demolished our temples and destroyed our halls. So today, a hundred years later-we have a musical prodigy, but we don't know how to recruit palace merchants. We can build tall buildings, but we can't set up public morality archways. We wear suits and ties, but we don't have our own clothes.
Where is the land of etiquette? Where is it, my China boy?
Why do you call me a pervert when I wear the most beautiful clothes? Why do I say that my precious Hanfu belongs to Fusang? Why do you always take my sincere confession as a joke? Why can't my tears touch your heart of stone at all?
Where is the place of faith? Where is it, my China boy?
I don't want to be heartbroken, I don't want the wisdom of my ancestors to be admired, and I don't want my Hanfu to be promoted by the Japanese. So I have always had a wish that one day, we can pick up our own culture and prop up the backbone of the nation.
Remember, remember, there was an era called the Han and Tang Dynasties, there was a river called the Yangtze River, there was a pair of totems called dragons and phoenixes, and there was a feather dress called Nishang!
Standing on the Great Wall of Wan Li, I will face your dignified eyes.
Why don't you cry, but you can't help being sad at the moment!
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
I know that Huaxia's exquisite service seal is your creation that lasts for thousands of years.
But why did this nation with the longest costume lose its clothes at this time?
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Once upon a time, we had an open mind and a glorious atmosphere.
Once upon a time, we made the four countries submit, and we inspired all directions.
For more than 3,000 years, we have been the hope of the world, colorful sports,
But now your children and grandchildren are beginning to doubt,
It is only an illusion to doubt the glory of the past. ......
We are full of confusion,
I just vaguely remember.
Once upon a time, there was a brilliant nation whose name was Huaxia.
Once there was a state of etiquette, whose name was Han and Tang Dynasties.
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Once our civilization and wealth were the aspirations of many barbarians.
Especially Koryo and Fusang, who despise us most now,
For thousands of years, we have become accustomed to being ahead of other countries in the world.
But now I smashed the ancestral temple, broke the etiquette and lost my clothes.
Completely lost what a big country should look like.
Blindly pleasing foreigners will make us
Even barbarians who can't compete with each other at night are wild.
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Three hundred and sixty years ago, it was the Tatars who cut off this splendid civilization.
We had a fight,
Hair cut, clothes changed, hundreds of millions of people's Han blood reflected in the Yangtze River in Tao Tao.
The hot-blooded men among us are willing to abandon their own flesh and blood.
I only hope that civilized and beautiful clothes can be preserved for thousands of years.
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
At that time, Manchu thought,
As long as we assimilate the Han people, we will forget our ancestors.
As long as they are ignorant, the Han people can be said to be strong in the universe.
So the literary inquisition was exchanged for the Han people's no longer resisting.
Therefore, the confidence and openness of the Han and Tang dynasties were replaced by behind closed doors.
Manchu people did not hesitate to stifle splendid civilization in exchange for the continuation of rule.
Do not hesitate to drop us from the most developed country to the poorest place in the world.
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
After several generations, perhaps there are really few bloody men.
All that's left is trembling skins and begging eyes.
We are more servile and flattering,
But there is no iron-blooded play.
We became sinners who forgot our ancestors,
And the blood of hundreds of millions of Han people,
But it can't arouse our little awakening,
Numb, we simply can't feel the sorrow of the four seas and the sorrow of our ancestors. ...
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
It was Yenara who delayed the construction of the Beiyang ship.
Just for the old decay and luxury.
The ridiculous ethnic integration that Tatars fear most will eventually die in cultural integration;
The regime that ruled the Han people with an iron fist actually perished in begging for mercy from the great powers.
Therefore, in the massive invasion of the Japanese invaders,
Heroes prove with blood,
I am a hero of the Chinese nation.
No death rays.
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Forgive us,
In the May 4th Movement, before the great powers,
I can't wait to collapse and worship the west.
Forgive us, in an era when a word is worth 10,000 words,
Under the mask of personality cult, it is a contempt for civilization and a slander on history.
We used to stab your anemic chest with a socialist tassel gun.
Deny all glories and criticize all glories with an unreasonable quotation!
Forgive us, yanhuang,
Forgive our Chinese sons and daughters,
Completely forget yourself,
Even you can't forget, can't forget Tang Zong Song Zu, Hanwu Qin Huang!
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Today, when we wandered in Shili sheep farm and lived in a garden house,
When we are enjoying the use of Sony Mitsubishi, we look at' friends' disdainful eyes.
Why do you always hide an inch of sadness when you look back numbly?
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Why do you turn around frequently when you incarnate the Yangtze River into the sea?
Do you think,
Our immature figures can't support the backbone of the nation?
Are you worried,
Can't we stand up in the raging fire?
Yanhuang, we don't believe it, really don't believe it!
Therefore, we regard Hanfu as a symbol.
We travel,
We wear unreal clothes.
Appear in crowded places again and again.
We are in the curious smile of passers-by
Undercurrent nine Yellow Rivers.
Unbearable sadness!
Forgive us, Huang Yan,
Tell us,
When can we hear the bugle of China people's confidence?
When can we see the dawn of national rejuvenation?