He Qifang
The morning dew falls,
The sound of logging jingled in the valley.
Put down the sickle full of fragrant rice,
Use a basket to put rich fruits and vegetables between bamboo fences.
Live in a farmhouse in autumn.
Drop a round net on the cold fog on the river,
Put away the shadow of cypress leaves like a herring.
The reed crown is covered with frost,
Shake the parked paddle gently.
The autumn sports meeting is held on fishing boats.
The grass is getting wider and wider in the cricket's cry.
The stream dried up and the stones became clearer.
Where is the flute on the cow's back?
The flute hole full of summer fragrance and heat?
Qiu Meng in the eyes of shepherdess.
Natural language
Don't think that talent speaks,
Nature also has language.
This language is everywhere,
You can see it when you open your eyes.
Look at the white clouds in the sky that day
This is the language of nature:
White clouds are floating high,
It must be sunny tomorrow.
Look at the ants on the ground,
This is also the language of nature:
Ants are busy moving,
Take an umbrella when you go out.
Tadpoles swim in the water,
Is it like a black comma?
Nature wrote on the water:
Spring has come to this world.
The geese are flying south in formation,
Isn't it like a string of ellipsis?
Nature wrote in the blue sky:
Autumn is just around the corner.
If this tree is cut down,
You'll find the ring—
It only grows once a year,
This is the language of nature.
If you catch a big fish,
There are also circles on fish scales—
A circle is one year old,
This is the language of nature again.
Nature put trilobite fossils,
Embedded in the Himalayas,
This is telling people:
There used to be Wang Yang.
Natural language,
That's great.
People who don't like learning can't understand.
Only those who are diligent in thinking can find out.
Motherland, my dear motherland.
-Shu Ting
Motherland, my dear motherland.
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
worship
peony
Endless mountains and ups and downs, rivers and grasslands,
In countless dense villages, chickens bark and dogs bark,
In the once desolate land of Asia,
The dry wind whistling in the boundless weeds,
Singing the monotonous water flowing eastward under the low-pressure dark clouds,
There are countless buried ages in the melancholy forest.
They hugged me quietly:
Endless stories are endless disasters, silent.
It is love, it is an eagle soaring in the sky,
Its dry eyes look forward to tears,
When the motionless gray ranks crawl in the distant sky;
I have too many words, too long feelings,
I want to use desolate deserts, rugged roads, mule carts,
I want to take a trough boat, wild flowers in the mountains, rainy days,
I want to hug you with everything, you,
People I see everywhere,
People who live in shame, crooked people,
I want to hug you with bloody hands.
Because a nation has risen.
A farmer, his rough body moving in the field,
He is a woman's child, the father of many children,
How many dynasties rose and fell around him?
Bring him hope and disappointment,
He always spins silently behind the plow,
Digging up the soil that dissolved his ancestors,
Frozen on the roadside is the same image of suffering.
How many happy songs pass by on the road,
How many times have he been followed by his worries;
On the main road, people are talking, shouting and in high spirits.
However, he didn't. He just put down his old hoe.
Believe in nouns again and melt in the love of the public.
He firmly watched himself melt into death,
And this road is infinitely long.
He can't cry,
He didn't cry because a nation has risen.
Surrounded by mountains and under the blue sky,
When passing by his house in spring and autumn,
Hidden in the deep valley is the most subtle sadness:
An old woman is pregnant with children, and many children are pregnant.
Hunger, patience in hunger,
The roadside is still a dark hut.
The same is the unknown fear, and the same is true.
Natural soil that erodes life,
He walked away and never looked back to curse.
I want to hug everyone for him,
I lost the comfort of hugging him,
Because of him, we cannot give happiness,
Cry, let's cry at him,
Because a nation has risen.
It is also the wind of this long age,
Also scattered from this sloping roof.
Endless groans and cold,
It sings on the top of the withered tree,
It blows through barren swamps, reeds and insects,
It is also the voice of this flying crow.
When I walked by and stood on the road,
I'm wasting my years of humiliating history.
Still waiting in the mountains and rivers,
Waiting, we have too much pain without words,
However, a country has risen,
However, a nation has risen.
Wang Xiaowei
Aroma wine
Lan Shu
Thirty years ago.
You look at me from the top of the willow tree
I am young.
Niyuan
People are also round.
Thirty years later.
I look at you from the top of the coconut tree.
You are a glass of country wine.
You are a man.
Homesickness is also full.