I have thought more than once, what is the motherland? I think, think, every time I think of the word "motherland", there will be a gentle wave in my heart, crystal tears in my eyes, and blood in my veins.
What is the motherland? She is the smoke in the kitchen, the whistle of pigeons, the dragon boat on the Dragon Boat Festival, the torch of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the kiss of lovers behind the wooden fence, the babbling of babies in the cradle, the pancakes baked by mothers on the pot, and the exhortation of fathers when they travel far away.
What is the motherland? She is the thoughts of Confucius, Laozi and Zhuangzi, the poems of Qu Yuan, Li Bai and Lu You, the prose of Han Yu, Liu Zongyuan and Su Shi, the words of Li Yu, Li Qingzhao and Xin Qiji, the paintings of Badashanren, Zheng Banqiao and Qi Baishi, the calligraphy of Mi Fei, Huang Gu and Lin Sanzhi, the creation of the smartest people among our ancestors, and the master I respect most.
What is the motherland? She was humiliated again and again, struggled again and again, failed again and again, and rose again and again. She is the gun in the hands of soldiers, the blood on the necks of volunteers, the carnival after victory and an immortal chapter in history books.
There are many beautiful places in the world. But is there Huangshan Mountain there? Is there a Yellow River? Is there a Yangtze River? Is there a Great Wall? Did my mother have clothes when she gave birth to me? Are there any footprints that I trudged step by step? Are there any unknown folk customs that my relatives and friends and I are used to? Is there a big Qin accent that makes me feel sad when I start humming?
No, since there are none of these, then the motherland is an irreplaceable place. Motherland, she is an endless love song and an endless beautiful article. She is the place where our ancestors lived and where our children and grandchildren lived and developed.
I have thought more than once, what is the motherland? I think, think-my dear motherland!