Love labor Our simple wish is endless labor, which is to make labor a virtue and craft and pass it on from generation to generation. This tradition and habit of going deep into the bone marrow is as irresistible as my father's face. Day after day, year after year, we carefully hold the fields in our hands, and rural labor is the only way for us to mature. Now happiness begins with simple labor and is surrounded by fields and rural areas. We love labor, and our tired bodies are pure and calm.
Under the protection of labor, my body is grateful in the beating of the sun, with the sound of metal and the friction between metal and soil. This attractive voice has been hovering over this land, which makes us feel the taste of the land more deeply. Labor makes us gush out like sweat, and it is as silent as a feather beating on metal. We live for labor, take off our scales and infiltrate into the soil with the rain. In a mature season of golden dance, we are full of fragrance, hanging high and loving labor.
Song of Labor stood at the first end of Red May and went deep into the hearts of workers. I realized that the jumping notes in the sun accidentally fell and touched the silent fruit forest. The heroic song of labor suddenly sounded on the silent earth, echoed in the hearts of hundreds of millions of workers, fell in the blue sky and white clouds, and the trees were covered with birds. In the morning, I couldn't help it. Sunshine, rain and dew and spring breeze make the flowers of civilization in the city grow the fruits of labor in the countryside. Singing the song of labor happily under the flying notes, the song of labor brings the good news of spring sowing and the hope that Xia Yun will make the earth full of poetry. Let the song of labor sing forever in the golden autumn, and constantly arch out rich fruits from the ground like notes, which are delicious and sweet.
Song of Labor Day is a mountain-like ridge. Bend over, plow, bend over, sweat drops in May. There are solar wind, bright green grains, laughter wrapped in festive red silk, and the quiet kitchen smoke rising. When it is the pupil of the city, it finds a lofty grandeur. This ancient square noun is injected with hormones to lengthen the body. No, climb to the top of the tower, climb the flying object, climb the solar system, and indulge in fantasy in the splendor of Xinghan. I think of Eden, nudity and a leaf. I want to hunt with stone tools. I think of human beings knocking out the first shining spark with flint. I think of papermaking, compass gunpowder and movable type printing. I think Newton was hit on the head by a falling apple. Labor is glorious, labor creates happiness, and labor is
"Singing labor" is singing labor. In this season when flowers wake up and willow branches dance, I sing an earthworm crawling under soft soil. This peristalsis is the most beautiful dance. It is very consistent with the kneeling posture of farmers' cultivation and sowing, and it is also filled with the golden fragrance of some soybeans. Become the most beautiful dance god in the land full of water. 2. Singing that labor is thousands of miles away in a distant home and country. I sing about my old country mother. She doesn't know that one day in May is Mother's Day. All she knows is that the kitchen smoke gets up early and then hoes the ground, and goes to the ridge to let the dripping sweat beat the harvest. Looking at Mai Miao is like her lush daughter. Growing up in green, singing and working in the depths of the 800-meter dark and hardened center of the earth, singing a dark and bright miner's lamp. Its flame is a salty mine disaster, spraying sweat, making those bony bones harder, and countless black hands holding another dawn. At this time, the rising warm sun is lighter than the air. Heavier than a stone, singing and working in every quiet or noisy street in the city, I sang a leisurely dancing broom, which was silent. A body close to the earth put on some rouge, dressed up the city's broom about ordinary and great, about humble and noble dancing, and commented on the beautiful dance. Singing works in the white delivery room of a nearby hospital. I sing the happy cries of every newborn baby, loud and melodious. If happy notes dance on the tired sweat of female nurses, I really want to dedicate the most beautiful poems to them. I can face them-these holy angels, my weak poems, how humble.
The May Day Golden Week is coming. The wind is warm, the rain is soft and the sun is bright. The May Day Golden Week is coming. Who will I arrange? Who shall I arrange for me? I will count RMB to the scenic spots in a lump sum by land, sea and air. Every happy smiling face is a magic ticket. I'm trapped in the entertainment circle. Who should I buy a house for? Cars? My mood now is still running all over the country and flying all over the world. I took the time to spend these seven days. My legs are sore and my heart is tired, but I regret leaving a trace of unspeakable helplessness in my life. It is true that I became the master of money, and money enslaved me. The scenery that makes people miss all the way during the May Day Golden Week is very warm. In sunny May, will service be corroded by hypocrisy and vanity?
Song of Labor How happy the workers who go to work on Labor Day are. The sun is so bright. Trees and green leaves are dancing in the sun. The machine is spinning fast, singing a hymn for the festival. No matter how ordinary your posts are, you are creating a new life. When you are resting, you are working for a better life. This is the eternal melody of human beings and the song in the hearts of workers. Only happiness, ordinary workers can be great, ordinary greatness can be more extensive, and only by devoting themselves to study and work can they enjoy real happiness.
Opening the May calendar, we seem to see angry people flocking to Tiananmen Square and opening the May calendar. We seem to hear the agitation and high voice that has gone through 80 years just by visiting, and it clearly echoes in our ears. I refuse to sign a contract in Qingdao, punish the traitor and fight for the national rights outside the contract. How can the motherland trample on the land of China? This is a just cry from a group of passionate young people. "Declaring Glory" is like a volcano in which magma is generated, like a sword that pierces the darkness, like a rushing torrent, like a petrel struggling with a storm, beating up a traitor, burning the Cao family with great heart, and suppressing what to do with grief and blood. This is a great victory against imperialism and feudalism, an extraordinary historical turning point and a banner held high forever. I am an eternal patriotic poem, and my thoughts are floating. Flying far and far, I opened the calendar in May and added a lot of worries to my heart. The sky over Iraq is still shrouded in the clouds of war, and the land of Kosovo is filled with strong smoke. Hegemonists interfere in other countries' internal affairs at will. Japanese right-wingers deny the history of aggression against China, and the discordant melody of the world peace symphony flickers on and off. How many bitter years and a long history and civilization have been interpreted, and how many tragedies have been staged frequently? Tell us that ignorance will be bullied and backwardness will be beaten. Open the calendar in May. My confidence will increase and my confidence will soar. Faith is a strong fortress. Ideals are like burning flames. The call for peace has resounded all over the world. The seeds of friendship have taken root in my heart. The horn of the times has sounded in the north and south of the Yangtze River. The spring breeze of reform is blowing all over Shuyang. Young friends, let's hold high the May 4th Red Flag, unite as one, be pragmatic, catch up, strive for self-improvement, embrace the new century and a brilliant tomorrow.
Laborer: Laborer, you are not good at preaching. You work hard all day, and if you don't work, you will itch all over, or even sleep restlessly. Laborers, you know from the bottom of your heart that labor creates everything. Jinshan Yinshan, thousands of worlds, are all praise for labor. Laborer, you bought the sun tomorrow with the calluses on your hands, the fragrance of fruits and vegetables in the fields, and the splash of steel flowers and coal waves. The wrinkles on your face are engraved with the memories of the years, and the bitterness and sweetness of labor are turned into nectar. Laborer, your eyes are full of wisdom and cleverness. Step on your feet in all difficulties and you will have unlimited scenery. Laborer, you are a pioneer, you have created the glory of history, famous mountains and rivers are in awe of you, and the songs of laborers will always ripple in your ears.
Cheer for the workers! Who once said: "Labor created human beings! "Who is saying:" Labor has won happiness! "Who is singing:" Labor is the most glorious! "Chairman Mao once said that' literature and art serve industry, agriculture and soldiers' is to praise workers. I applaud the construction workers! Look! Holding steel pipes in their hands, like a light swallow, they have become buildings in the clouds, bridges of rivers, prosperous and magnificent motherland, and their proud chests. I applaud the farmers! Look! In the hot sun, sweat spilled on the earth, covered with gold silk and silver satin, stirring the hearts of farmers. These are the stability of the country! I sympathize with the domestic workers! After returning home, the domestic aunt thought that the tears of the children she had taken care of had merged into a crystal stream, and sang in her heart about the rise of the Avenue of Stars and the daily necessities of thousands of families. I cheer for the most valuable researchers! After nine days of exploration, I went to the deep sea to study Xiangyun, and it was empty; Blue and black play the glory of the motherland. I encourage designers of foreign aid! I miss staying at home, and my heart is filled with cheers from my motherland. How many model workers lift trophies every year, and how many model workers are printed in people's hearts? Every day is an ocean of labor. Labor is beautiful! Glory! Create happiness!