I want to hold the fate by the throat, and it will never overwhelm me completely. -inscription
These four movements are rigorous in structure, concise in technique, vivid in image, passionate in emotion, ambitious in spirit, and full of strong artistic appeal-this constitutes it-the symphony of destiny.
The first four notes are stiff and heavy. It was fate knocking on doors and windows, and there seemed to be a faint panic. Bright allegro and sonata form run through the first movement, which promotes the continuous development of music. Passionate, powerful and courageous tunes reflect Beethoven's strong will to challenge feudal forces with indignation. The horn is gentle, lyrical and graceful, and the horn sound is transformed from the motive of fate, which seems to tell Beethoven's desire and pursuit for happiness and a better life. Gradually, tone sandhi began to become more and more frequent, which is the fate of motivation running in again.
When the first movement was drawing to a close, panic and gentleness merged into the music, which brought me a magnificent momentum without any obstacles. I wonder if Beethoven, a hundred years ago, was also so excited to praise the people's strong will to overcome the darkness and their belief in winning?
The second movement begins with a slightly faster andante and a variation on two themes. The elastic rhythm and fluctuating melody make it more lyrical and serene. The hero's optimism and the confidence and strength to gain further struggle from meditation are fully displayed at this moment. Cello and double bass sound urgent, but violin sighs helplessly. In the third movement, fate is still dangerous, and the first stage of decisive battle is still fate winning. However, the darkness is bound to pass and the dawn is just around the corner. Accompanied by the dance theme of bass string performance, a series of gripping paragraphs are slowly staged, symbolizing the confidence and optimism of the people in their struggle under the dark forces. The band's range is getting bigger and bigger, and its voice is getting louder and louder. An irresistible force directly leads the music to a brilliant finale.
The magnificent triumphal March, with brilliant and cheerful tunes, is the incomparable joy of the people's victory. The threat of fate sounded from a distance, but it has long been lingering and can no longer stop the trend of history. The brilliant and bright tune sounded again, and the overwhelming joy that the people finally won through struggle was beyond words at this moment. This decisive battle with fate ended in a bright and complete victory.
This is a symphony of fate, high-pitched and passionate, inspiring. This song is a challenge and cry to fate after experiencing the hardships of life and enduring the double harm of body and mind. It is a lonely story, a painful * * *, a vent of resentment and a torture of life!
From Beethoven's music, I read his tenacity. His struggle against misfortune was deeply shocked by Beethoven's indomitable spirit of reshaping his life with music!
I like it-the symphony of destiny. It taught me optimism and perseverance, never back down in the face of fate. Difficulties and failures are not terrible, as long as I can persevere and never give up, no matter how many difficulties and hardships, they will become the stepping stone to my success; As long as I can persevere and be determined, I will always be strong!
2. Ask for a paragraph describing the flute. These beautiful sentences describe the flute.
The flute continued to float in the air, and I jumped into the ocean of notes. At this time, the beautiful rhythm spread in my ears-high and low; Melodious and passionate-the heart is also surging.
The unique timbre of the flute permeates the room, like an idyllic poem, elegant and light, quiet and distant; Like a winding stream, it is clear and crisp, singing gently; Like the original scenery of my hometown, it is fresh and natural without lead carving.
Alone in the bow, a flute flutters in the dusk, the melodious flute stirs the red clouds on the horizon, and the scattered flute dances the reeds on both sides.
On a lonely night, whose flute is fiddling with the strings of the wind, just like the flowers on the other side are dancing gracefully, falling or rising together, gently drifting through the ears from far and near and overflowing the heart.
Suddenly there was a beautiful flute sound, as if I was in a beautiful dream, intoxicating, as if flowers were blooming all over my heart and exciting. It seems that the whole world is listening to it, which is addictive.
Suddenly, the flute became lively and interesting, turning repeatedly, and the beautiful melody fell layer by layer, and the speed increased one by one. It's really interesting to sing late.
The flute in the quiet night, however, comes from an open heart, melodious and floating, constantly echoing, lingering with infinite reverie and yearning, and slowly rising.
An eternal music turns to the ileum and ripples for thousands of times; A melodious flute sounds like shouting and turns into the curve of the sea.
The beautiful and elegant flute is lingering in my ears, as if a freehand brushwork picture is spread out in front of my eyes.
I have to gasp in admiration, this flute is simply the sound of nature-so beautiful, so beautiful, so desirable, the notes touch my nerves one by one, how can I not make people tremble and admire?
When the edge of the day was dyed rouge by the sunset, the loud and exciting flute rippled in the quiet crossing street and slowly disappeared at the end of the street.
The flute is getting smaller and smaller, the fishing boat is sleeping on the shore, and my heart is immersed in the melody like a rhythmic song, then it is high, then it is calm, and then it goes away. ...
The flute is fading away, and in the faint sadness, I return to my naive childhood and outline my infinite nostalgia for the past.
The flute rendered the twilight scene in misty rain poetic and confusing, reminding people of the sound from the ancient city wall in Jia Pingwa's novels.
The flute rises into the deep space with the stars and the bright moon, and dances gracefully with the clouds, just like the noise between heaven and earth turns into a gorgeous brocade, a silent and clever picture scroll, and a fresh and mysterious music.
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These sentences describe the appearance of the flute.
Bamboo flute is made of bamboo tube, which is hollow inside and cylindrical outside. There are 1 blowhole, 1 membrane hole, 6 sound holes, 2 sound holes and 2 auxiliary sound holes on the pipe body.
3. Write a composition of about 300 to 400 words by moonlight, spring scenery and flute ~ ~ ~ ~ I'll give you some, and you can write moonlight yourself: 1. The moonlight is gentle. Whenever I face such a bright moon, I just want to sit quietly.
Whoever goes or has other ideas will make me feel guilty. Because of sleep, I missed the simple and pure moonlight of too many people. For example, the fleeting time is gradually drifting away, and it is better to send each other in the past than to welcome them when they arrive.
Thanks to the moonlight tonight, I can still find this amazing peace after many cycles of years and tides. Always in quiet sleep, the moonlight pours gently, just like years passing through my fingers in my ignorance.
I didn't notice it slipping. If I hadn't bathed in such a pure moonlit night, I wouldn't have realized how much I missed looking up at the moon. I won't realize that in those fleeting years, all the joys and sorrows have been staged ... in the glory, I can think of anything, think nothing, remember everything deliberately and abandon everything mercilessly. I'm just an empty shell, I'm not allowed to be private, and I'm not allowed to hide, because this eternal moonlight can shine directly on my body-it can wash away all the brilliance ... In the sky scene, the dull pain, struggle and hesitation in my heart are just too small and insignificant things.
However, all this, infected by the gentle moonlight, gradually softened, smoothed and erased, like a crumpled piece of paper, invading a can of cold water-everything was calm, and the light danced in the soft years. The night is gentle and the moonlight dances.
I can't forget Jin Yang's words-the night has been slowly sinking, and my heart is slowly floating like a cloud. After a long walk, I found that time is such a worthless thing. It can give you a promise, but it washes away all persistence with its own running water.
People who can dance in the moonlight must have a firm but soft heart. In the moonlight at night, they stretch their bodies, bask in the sun, and accept the pervasive cleaning and scouring of the moonlight ... The night is over, the moon is dark, and they shoulder all the burdens with perseverance, hiding the tenderness of dancing in the moonlight and facing the clouds falling in bloom ... Perseverance, because there is moonlight to talk about, in this moonlight, the aura of the whole body is enough for us to face life calmly after the night fades. Suddenly, the dark clouds in the sky drifted leisurely to the side of the moon, but they really couldn't bear to cover the moon. It just touched the round face of the moon and floated away! Moonlight is like water, and a breeze blows, bringing the fragrance of wild flowers. The river gurgled, and the moonlight shone on the river like silver. The grass is green under your feet, the moon in the sky is charming, and the mountains are hazy in the distance. What a leisurely nature! The moonlight is picturesque, so beautiful! The moonlight is like a dream, so clear and so hazy! I love the moonlight tonight! I seem to see the moon hanging in front of the window again, the color of pure gold, suspended on the blue background. Is it midnight or early morning? Is the memory of a movie or a painting or a poem just like the sea rises and the moon rises? No, maybe, I'm still awake. The moon like that is only in my dream.
I like the faint fragrance floating at night, and I like the moonlight like water. When I sleep in the middle of the night, I will get out of bed and open a curtain. When I wake up, I will see all kinds of moons. There is a touch of clarity among the stars in the sky, a virgin-like back and forth in the clouds, an ethereal transparent yarn and a jade-like brightness.
I also saw various colors of the moon, pure white, milky white, gold and blue. However, when I told others about the various shapes and colors of the moon I saw, almost everyone said that I didn't wake up and talk in my sleep.
Therefore, every moonlit night, when I walk on the road, I instinctively look up at the moon. On the street where cars are coming and going, in the park where willows brush the embankment, and on the long stone steps leading to home, you will meet the moonlight like water when you look up.
I remember the softness of the moon in spring, the brightness of Xia Yue, the height of the moon in autumn and the coldness of the moon in winter. I remember the perfection or absence of each moon. I have also compared the moonlight in the city with the moonlight in Shan Ye, the moonlight in the pine trees and the moonlight on the water, but I really haven't seen it. Please keep the color and appearance of this marked moon.
In order to prove that I am awake, I won't talk in my sleep, but I always believe that the moon I saw in my sleep is real. Someone told me never to look at the moon when you are depressed, otherwise, depression will become messy.
I think she should have had such feelings and experiences. Things are different. There are a thousand hamlets in the eyes of a thousand people, a thousand moons and a thousand feelings in the hearts of a thousand people. She'll be a mess. Maybe I'll calm down. Who can say clearly, is it that people have changed their months or that they have pity on others? I believe that everything is spiritual, dynamic and static, strong and weak, treat them with heart and feel them.
The sun and the moon are the spirits of heaven and earth, and man is the spirit of all things. There must be communication between souls. That poet, on the night when he sang a song about wine, didn't bring me my shadow and let the three of us be with the moon. He looked at the moon, missed it, called it, invited it, begged it, drunk it, admired it, made it, Mugetu, and even "wanted to hold it in the sky". The moon became the poet's lifelong lover. I suddenly wondered if the poet had seen the moon like that in his sleep. He was patrolling in the moonlight of a lake. Or did the poet think it was like white jade when he was young? This month and Gu Yue, like night walkers, ancient people and modern people, saw the bright moonlight and spring: the continuous spring rain dyed the earth green, and the soft spring breeze warmed the river.
Look, it is raining again. Rain, like spun silk, is light and thin, and you can't hear the sound of falling, and you can't feel the dripping of fish.
I just feel that this is like a kind of moist smoke, which gently moistens the earth and people's hearts. Under the nourishment of spring rain, wheat seedlings grow greener and vegetables and flowers bloom more golden.
In a crisscross ditch, the spring water trickles. Young trees and willows spread their branches and leaves in the spring rain, greedily sucking the sweet rain.
1, cute.
4. The flute composition in memory On a summer evening a long time ago, a girl of 16 years old was always fascinated by the flute that kept drifting in the distance, and the flute was accompanied by a burst of osmanthus fragrance.
It happened in a small town. This town is full of narrow alleys and stone roads made of ancient cloth.
Small slate, shabby place next to one yard after another. The girl left her hometown and came to this small town without friends. She has been living in loneliness and homesickness. It was the long and sad flute that gave her a kind of comfort and sustenance.
So every night this summer, she lingered under the old wall so that she could listen to the wonderful flute more clearly and look forward to meeting the piper in her heart. That night, they finally met at the corner of the old wall.
The piper is a handsome boy about the same age as a girl. The girl blushed, and the boy nodded politely at her, so that they knew each other. In the days to come, the girl stood at the corner of the old wall every day, because that was the only way that the piper passed every day.
One day, the bagpiper said to the girl, "You follow me at night and I'll take you to a place, but you stay away from me because I'm afraid my neighbors will see you." The girl hesitated and nodded.
They walked through one alley after another, with a distance of 10 meter. The moonlight shone on the stone road, and the dew at night wet the girl's dress. The stone road is clear and bright, and in front of it is the silent back of the piper, pulling the girl forward with great temptation. This is the only memory of her 16 years old.
A river appeared in front of my eyes, covered with silver moonlight. The boy stopped. They are still staring at each other from a distance.
In the sultry air of summer, the girl still breathes a breath, which contains countless longings and excitement in her young life. The boy approached her from a distance and held out his hand, the other hand clutching the flute.
"I just want to shake your hand. Thank you for listening to me play the flute every day. " The girl held out her hand for him to hold, but after a while, they each withdrew their hands.
At this moment, they also felt the tremor that spread all over the body. In the girl's eyes, the piper saw a crystal tear.
"Go home, it's too late. If you are afraid, just walk in front of me. " After the boy said this, he never dared to look up again.
In this way, they walked through countless dark alleys in tandem. Because it was too late, the street lamp had gone out, and finally they parted under the old wall. From then on, she never saw the boy again, but the flute stayed in her dream.
Two years later, she left the town and went to the old wall, but there was no flute and no apology. The girl vaguely remembers that moonlit night, and the piper seemed to hint at parting, but she didn't understand. Postscript: Some people say that all this may be a girl's initial dream, but she denies it. She said that this was indeed a relationship she had experienced, whether you believe it or not, but it did happen.
That night, the sun hung lazily in the sky, surrounded by golden light.
I sat alone in the chair of the community, admiring the sky that was also dyed golden yellow. Suddenly I heard the melodious flute.
In the flute, I found the same mood as me. The flute was unhurried and gently blown, which made me seem to travel through time and space and came to Tao Yuanming's secluded cabin. I heard the voice of Tao Yuanming reading aloud in the room floating in my ears and stirring in my mind ... "Mom, listen! Someone is playing the flute! " A childish voice interrupted my thoughts.
In front of me is a little girl about two or three years old. She stood in the middle of the yard, cocked her head and listened carefully to the flute.
The girl should be held by her mother. She took her hand and said, "Listen, no one plays the flute. Let's go, I have to cook later. "
Then he pulled twice. The girl reluctantly and unfairly followed her mother.
My heart is shaking. People who are used to living in big cities have ears full of car horns, bosses' reprimands and noises in supermarkets.
All this blocked people's ears, so that people could not hear those beautiful voices. The children, however, have not yet integrated into the secular world, and still have a fresh and natural taste. They can understand the sounds of nature.
Adults tend to forget this natural state. What I admire most is Tao Yuanming's time. He can hide in the mountains and forests alone, instead of dealing with the secular world all day, and dealing with the endless world.
In this day and age, how can there be so much wood for me to retire from the world? I try to keep a primitive heart, be sensitive to everything as much as possible, and not mix myself with the world. Although I live in the secular world, I live the same life as Tao Yuanming, trying to avoid everything full of secular flavor.
But these things always come uninvited, binding me all day and not giving me any breathing space. Gradually, I learned to forget, learned to forget these dirty secular.
My friend said I looked like a misanthrope, and I smiled. What's wrong with being world-weary?
I admit that I am a misanthrope, but I keep a natural heart. This is more important than people who love the world.
How many such hearts are there in the muddled world? The flute has long since disappeared, but I have been immersed in it for a long time.
6. Write a 400-word composition with moonlight, village scenery and flute to give you some articles. You can write moonlight by yourself: 1. The moonlight is gentle. Whenever I face such a bright moon, I just want to sit quietly. Whoever goes and has distractions will make me feel guilty. Because of sleep, I missed too many people's simple moonlight, such as the passage of time. Welcome is better than coming. After many cycles of years and tides, thanks to the moonlight tonight, I can still find this magical peace. It is always in a quiet sleep, and the moonlight pours gently, like my ignorant years. I didn't notice it sliding. If I hadn't bathed in a pure moonlit night, I wouldn't have realized how much I miss looking up at the moon. In those fleeting years, I won't realize this. All the joys and sorrows have been staged ... in the splendor, you can think of everything, think of nothing, remember everything deliberately and discard everything mercilessly. I am just an empty shell, without any privacy and hiding place, because this eternal moonlight can directly shoot into my body and wash away all the brilliance ... In this sky-filled scene, I feel dull pain, struggle and hesitation. However, all this, infected by the gentle moonlight, gradually became soft, smooth and erased, like a crumpled piece of paper, invading a cool water tank-everything was calm and the light danced in the soft years. The night is gentle and the moonlight is dancing. Jin Yang's words finally made me unable to get over it-the night has slowly sunk, and my heart is floating like a floating cloud ... It can give you a promise, but it washes away all persistence with its own running water. Those who can dance in the moonlight must have a firm but soft heart, basking in the moonlight in the dark, accepting the pervasive washing and scrubbing of the moonlight ... The night is over, the moon is dark, and perseverance shoulders all the burdens, hiding the tender feelings of dancing in the moonlight with two sleeves. It is precisely because there is moonlight to talk to, even if we just sit quietly in this moonlight, the aura that fills our whole body is enough for us to face life calmly after the night fades ... This moonlight was originally the softest hiding and the most firm support in our hearts ... 2. Tonight, the moonlight is very round and bright, like a white jade plate hanging in the vast sky. Suddenly, the dark clouds in the sky floated leisurely to the moon. Moonlight is like water, and a breeze blows, bringing the fragrance of wild flowers. The river gurgled, and the moonlight shone on the river like silver. The grass is green under your feet, the moon in the sky is charming, and the mountains are hazy in the distance. What a leisurely nature! The moonlight is picturesque, so beautiful! The moonlight is like a dream, so clear and so hazy! I love the moonlight tonight! I seem to see the moon hanging in front of the window again, the color of pure gold, suspended on the blue background. Is it midnight or early morning? Is the memory of a movie or a painting or a poem just like the sea rises and the moon rises? No, maybe, I'm still awake. The moon is only in my sleep. I like the faint fragrance floating at night, and I like the moonlight like water. When I sleep in the middle of the night, I will get up, open a window curtain and wake up to see all kinds of moons. There is a touch of clarity among the stars, a virgin who shuttles between clouds, and an ethereal and transparent veil. Pure white, milky white, gold and blue. However, when I told others about the various shapes and colors of the moon, almost everyone said that I didn't wake up and talk in my sleep. Therefore, every moonlit night, when I walk on the road, I instinctively look up at the moon. In the streets where cars are coming and going, in the parks where willows are blowing, and on the long stone steps leading home, Xia Yue is bright, the autumn moon is hanging high, and the winter moon is deserted. I remember the perfection or absence of each moon. I have also compared the moonlight in the city with that in Shan Ye, the moonlight in the pine room and the moonlight on the water, but I really haven't seen it. Please keep the color and appearance of this marked moon. In order to prove that I am awake, I won't talk in my sleep, but I always believe that the moon I saw in my sleep is real. I was told. Never look at the moon when you are depressed, otherwise, depression will become messy. I think she should have had such feelings and experiences. Things have changed. There are a thousand hamlets in the eyes of a thousand people, a thousand moons and a thousand feelings in the hearts of a thousand people. She'll be a mess. Maybe I'll calm down. Who can make it clear? I believe in the spirituality of all things, dynamic and static, strong and weak, and I can feel it with my heart. The sun and the moon are the spirits of heaven and earth, and human beings are the spirits of all things. There must be communication between souls. Didn't that poet bring my shadow to me on the night when he was drinking, so that the three of us could be with the moon? He looks at the moon, misses it, calls it, invites it, asks for it, gets drunk, enjoys it and plays tricks. Has the poet ever seen such a moon in his sleep? Did he touch the texture of the moon, as soft and transparent as I imagined, when he patrolled to catch the moon in the moonlight of a lake? Or did the poet think it was like white jade when he was young? This month and Gu Yue, like people who walk at night, ancient people and modern people have seen the bright moonlight and spring: the continuous spring rain dyed the earth green, and the soft spring breeze warmed the river. Look, it is raining again. The rain is as thin as spun silk, and you can't hear the sound of falling flowers and feel the dripping of fish. It just feels like a kind of moist smoke, which gently moistens the earth and people's hearts. Vegetables and flowers bloom more golden. In a crisscross ditch, the spring water trickled down. Trees and willows spread their branches and leaves in the spring rain and greedily sucked the sweet rain. The lovely girl in spring came to the world with light steps, and it was a vibrant scene.50438.00000600606
7. neighbor's flute composition I wrote my own flute, which is not easy! ! ! There are many people you think you can forget.
Actually, no. They are always in a corner of your heart.
Until the end of your life. In the end, you will miss the light in the dark in every corner, because they constitute your memories and feelings.
I have never been a good talker since I was a child. I'm always afraid of being alone and having no friends. I wonder if the world has abandoned me like this. Am I really hopeless, without company? Until that day, I heard the flute, which was fine and hazy. I'm not sure whether it's good or not, but it's beautiful in my afternoon alone.
Every day in the future, I will sit quietly under the window and listen to the flute that seems to be played only for me. This is hope. I began to learn to smile, and I began to see the sunshine, because I knew that someone had never abandoned me and played for me every day.
Until one day my neighbor moved away ... I didn't think of the flute again, but I still smiled because I had light. It can't stay with me all the time after all.
It's just that I have been obsessed with the journey and growth, which is a lost process.
8. Listening to music and writing an imaginary composition is so urgent ~ ~ ~ urgent ~ ~ urgent.
The girl stood up, took the pear flower Jane in her left hand and put it between her fingers, tinkling, corresponding to the voice of Heizai; Holding a drum hammer in his right hand, he listened attentively to the rhythm of Black Boy. Suddenly the drums break, the sound bursts, the words sound crisp, and the sound turns around, such as the new warbler coming out of the valley and the milk swallow returning to the nest, with seven sentences per sentence and dozens of sentences per paragraph, either slow or urgent, high or low; Among them, where the adjustment is made, there is no shortage of changes. I feel that all the songs are out of tune, thinking that I have finished watching them.
two
Wang Xiaoyu opened his lips, bared his teeth and sang a few words. At first, the sound was not very loud, but I felt an indescribable wonder: in my internal organs, it was like a piece of iron, everywhere; Thirty-six thousand pores are like eating ginseng fruit, and no pore is not carefree. After singing a dozen words, I gradually sang higher and higher, and suddenly pulled out a gyro, like a steel rope thrown into the sky, and could not help secretly exclaiming. Knowing that you are in that extremely high place, you can still turn around. After several times, it went up a layer, three or four times in succession, one after another. This is like climbing Mount Tai from the west of Ole Peak: at first glance, Ole Peak is the same, thinking it is at the top of Datong; When I turned to the top of Zuolai Mountain, I saw Fan Cliff on the top of Zuolai Mountain. When I turned to Fanya, I found that the worse the door was on Fanya: the more dangerous, the more dangerous it was. After Wang Xiaoyu sang to a very high level, he suddenly fell down, tried his best, and showed a thousand times spirit, like a flying snake hovering in the middle of the 36 peaks of Huangshan Mountain. In an instant, every turn. From then on, the singing became lower and thinner, and the voice gradually disappeared. Everyone in the garden held their breath and dared not move less. About two or three minutes, it seems that there is a sound coming from underground. After that, it suddenly rose again, like fireworks in the east, a marble rose into the sky and turned into thousands of colorful flames, scattered vertically and horizontally. This sound flies, that is, there are infinite sounds to be concurrent. People who play Black Boy use their fingers, big and small, which are in harmony with his voice, such as the spring dawn in the flower dock and the sound of good birds. My ears are too busy to know what to listen to. Is stirring, suddenly listen to Huo Ran, all the strings are silent. At this time, the audience cheered and thundered.
three
Mozart's music is like clear water, flowing on the undulating land, sometimes gentle and sometimes swift, but they will never get out of control and keep the rhythm forever. They run in the picturesque journey, the shade extends under their feet, flowers bloom around them, and birds sing in their waves. Sometimes, the bleak wind is blowing on the water, and the dead leaves dance in the wind like golden butterflies. ...
four
This song seems to be a clean stream. After being blocked, I lingered for a long time. Suddenly, it found a gap in the rock that blocked it, and then it rushed out. Then it gallops freely on the ups and downs of vilen, sometimes rolling with rapids, sometimes with gentle waves, splashing into the clouds when it is high and intense, and falling into the valley when it is low and tortuous. ...
five
Trapp's family paid tribute to the audience. The colonel went to the microphone and the spotlight followed him. He said bitterly, "Austrian compatriots, it may be a long time before I see you." Now I will sing a love song for you. Love that everyone misses. I hope ... you don't forget. "
Max came to the stage and handed the guitar to the colonel.
Trapp plucked the strings and sang Edelweiss affectionately;
Edelweiss, edelweiss,/I'll see you when I open my eyes. /Little white flowers,/like smiling faces. /Xiaobaihua, unbeaten. /unbeaten little white flower! /edelweiss, edelweiss,/dotted with the motherland is particularly beautiful!
The audience listened with bated breath to this Austrian song that everyone has been singing since childhood.
Zeiler (Zeiler: German Nazi officer) listened discontentedly and helplessly.
Trapp continued to sing, "Edelweiss, Edelweiss," but he choked up and could hardly sing a word. At this time, Maria quickly came forward and sang a song. The couple motioned for the children to come forward and sing again, and the children came over and joined in the singing. Finally, the colonel waved and directed everyone to sing together, and the audience merged into one voice, and everyone sang in chorus:
……
Little white flowers,/like smiling faces. /Xiaobaihua, unbeaten. /unbeaten little white flower! /wild chrysanthemum, wild chrysanthemum,/dotted with the motherland is particularly beautiful!
The applause thundered and the crowd was excited.