Explore this vast land:
This corner has been reduced to ashes,
That corner is just blood and mud;
This lake should be my hometown,
(In spring, the bank is full of flowers.
Tender willow branches are broken with strange fragrance)
I touched the coolness of seaweed and water;
The snow peaks in Changbai Mountain are freezing cold.
The water and sediment of the Yellow River slip through the fingers;
Rice fields in the south of the Yangtze River, your new grass.
It is so thin, so soft ... now there is only Artemisia capillaris;
Litchi flowers in Lingnan wither in loneliness,
I have been immersed in the bitter water of the South China Sea without fishing boats. ...
Invisible palms sweep the infinite mountains and rivers,
Fingers stained with blood and ash, palms stained with darkness,
Only the far corner is still intact,
Warm, clear, firm and vigorous spring.
On it, I stroked it with my broken palm,
Like a lover's soft hair, a baby's milk.
I put all my strength on the palm of my hand and put it on it.
Send love and all hope,
Because there is only the sun, no spring,
Will dispel the haze and bring Su Sheng,
Because it's the only place where we don't live like animals,
Die like an ant ... there, eternal China!
If I were a bird,
I should also sing with a hoarse throat:
This land hit by the storm,
This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,
This endless wind,
And the gentle dawn from the forest ...
And then I died,
Even feathers rot in the ground.
Why do I often cry?
Because I love this land deeply. ...
Motherland, my dear motherland.
-Shu Ting
I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river.
Old songs that have been spun for hundreds of years.
I am a miner's lamp with your forehead blackened.
When you grope in the tunnel of history.
I am a withered ear of rice; This is a roadbed that is in disrepair.
This is a barge on the beach.
Draw the rope deep
Pull it into your shoulder
-the motherland!
I am very poor.
I am sad
I am your ancestor.
Painful hope.
It's a flying sleeve.
Flowers that never fall to the ground for thousands of years
-Motherland
I am your brand-new ideal.
Just broke free from the mythical spider web.
I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow.
I am your tearful smile.
I am the newly painted white starting line.
This is crimson dawn.
Spraying
-Motherland
I am one billionth of you.
Is the sum of your 9.6 million square meters.
With your scarred breasts,
raise
Lost me, considerate me, boiling me.
And then from my flesh and blood
get
Your richness, your glory, your freedom.
-Motherland
my dear motherland