The first song: that day-to commemorate one or two? On the 66th anniversary of the Ninth National Games, Wolf Rock turned the 66th calendar page. The chilly day began to vividly interpret in my eyes. Snow is no longer white. In that cold winter, only the cries like iron horses stripped the heavy coat of this ancient country and exposed the scarred body. When a drop of blood splashed on my forehead, it left a deep mark. As the north wind roared by, that day was yellow and gone, but can the realistic shoulders bear those passionate years that once boiled? Still standing on the back of the century, silently staring at the sunshine outside the window, gently stroking the earth, just don't know whether that day stands in its memory forever like a sculpture. Second: 1935 China wild chrysanthemum money1935 65438+February 9. Six thousand students from Beiping gathered in xinhua gate to protest against the Kuomintang government's policy of not staying in Japan, which was suppressed by the Kuomintang government. During the movement, 100 people were injured and more than 30 people were arrested. In the winter of China 1935, the land was full of wild chrysanthemums, as if they were heroes in the war. They raised their bright heads and asked the sky ... the cold night in winter, a thick roll of history, spread out to the winter sixty years ago. That night, there is always a roar like a tidal wave, and there is always a fire burning 12 square meter house. The temperature soared. A pair of eyes shed sweat from their pores, and the fragrance of the earth was very strong. Where are you before Jiazi's fate? I knocked on the door of the loess and saw a fire on a crumpled fallen leaf. In the red winter, I saw 6000 wild chrysanthemums blooming at the same time, and a group of latosolic red people listed wild chrysanthemums in 1935. You hold your head high to the sun and call for a broken cold star with 100 wounds in the middle and bleeding at the same time. The land under your feet is in your hands. The Yellow River and the Yangtze River will divert the wild chrysanthemum of 1935, and your fine roots will be big. On the masonry in xinhua gate, hands are knocking on the doorbell of peace. The earth cracked and the maw swallowed up the whole winter. Thirty voices of peace were trapped in a cage. Outside the cage, there is a wave every day, from Beiping and Nanjing to Wuhan and Guangzhou ... the whole of China is awakened. All the night lights are on. Kind-hearted head boils in the winter of China 1935. Like wild chrysanthemums in full bloom on the earth, how can you imagine how the enlightened rooster landed on the dictator's plate and cut off the Yellow River and the Yangtze River from now on? 1935' s wild chrysanthemums are running around telling you that maybe we were born in the same home and drank a river between our lips and teeth. 1935 how to burn wild chrysanthemums with gunfire? Your hands are weak. The flowers are plain and beautiful. /kloc-in the winter of 0/935, you went to the fire and asked the sun about the people who crossed the ocean. What kind of life are you trying to exchange with your life? Breathing in the sun, the stars circle in the air and lie in the middle of the law. How peaceful are these days? Why cheat and bury the righteous under the wheel? The dove of peace retreated. At night, the bayonet is held high above the wild chrysanthemum. 1935' s 6000 wild chrysanthemums are clean and beautiful. At the same time, they burn, burning red. 1935 China heats up. 1935 in China, every flame contains anger, every flame contains the fire of blame, covering the earth and the ravaged people all over the world. Today, I sat quietly in front of history and saw the winter of 1935. The scorched land in China is full of beautiful wild chrysanthemums, and the blood is still wet, and the fragrance is flowing in the eyes. The only thing I can see this winter is the wild chrysanthemums all over the mountains. This winter, the only thing that excites me is this day: loud sounds and wild waves ... I can't describe its grandeur and sadness. Sixty years have passed, yesterday's wild chrysanthemums are in full bloom, and yesterday's tide is still rolling in the sea of flowers in winter. People can't see wild chrysanthemums from their eyes. The third song: Talking and Singing-Commemorating the December 9th Movement, I feel that the moon in Zhu Wenyan has become a sickle for mowing grass and hangs in the night sky. The long hair of the stars caressed the rivers and mountains. Whose hand slaps the river and waves on my chest? Whose hand lit the bonfire in my eyes? I listened intently to the pounding of hooves on my fragile heart again and again. No one will forget this. Penetrating through the thick upper strata and historical days, the December 9th Movement, whether a red wind or a bloody rain, cut the most touching chapter in the patriotic student movement of China people. Songs extend from the horizon of China, and people listen to farewell weapons in the era of singing. I shed tears, breathed incense, put my true feelings at the peak of the treble world and approached the pioneers step by step. Holding a torch full of happiness, I gradually condensed a big spark into a warm heart. I saw a string of tears in his bright eyes. He said, the world is yours and mine. How can you support me tonight? Let me set foot on the moon and dance with many cultures ... a big tree, an eagle wing that hates Taiwan and a Zhejiang sword are a monument. Flames like blood, thousands of miles frozen. Who sang "Qinyuanchun"? Snow ... Oh, my hardworking brothers and sisters are pulling the wheel of life, and the Cycas buried in my heart has blossomed the most brilliant 56 flowers. Let all my dreams stay on your generous shoulders, and let the river of my thoughts flow into your fiery blood vessels, so I have surging feelings and love, splashed by the waves ... 2. Walk into poetry. The flute of priest spirit walks into the edge of life, singing the song of faith, like a lark in rainy season. Under the pressure of time, I hold the candle of life tightly, touch the heroic atmosphere in my heart and sing a little eulogy. I just want to dip in the pride of youth and fly over my humble emblem. My pain guards the tranquility and harmony of peace. I will smile even in the coldest season. Dancing barefoot with the warmest notes and prayers, I will hold trembling hope and turn thousands of years of wind and rain into stars. The bluebird has flown away from human childhood with the most beautiful gesture, but my road has not left my yellow home. Please give me new things and staring eyes. Please give me listening ears and keen thinking to rebuild my weak chest. I flapped my wings The song of Shang Dynasty was considered until it dissolved into a shining star embedded in the blue planet. The fourth part: Commemorating1February 9 The scene of Agropyron cristatum 64 years ago is vivid. A disaster-stricken country, a nation on the verge of extinction groaned in blood, and the description of the struggle at home and abroad was so pale and powerless. The suffering of the weak Shidou was so short and gentle in Peiping, and finally a long-standing inner cry against the autonomy and civil war in North China broke out. The roar of crossing time and space unanimously exploded like thunder on1February 9, and the forest-like hand swept the streets and lanes of China city. The land burned by blood and fire has lost its maternal tenderness, and a child abducted in the war has fallen into despair. At the end of the scream, I cried and said, mom, I don't want to leave you. This cry shocked the hearts of thousands of China people in Qian Qian. This cry accused the national government of all kinds of ugly crimes. It should be in the front. The soldiers who defend the country are killing their brothers and sisters heroically, while the guns that should be aimed at the enemy are devouring their hometown unscrupulously. This is the scene 64 years ago. This is the fuse of the December 9th Movement. The descendants of China people who were educated in the war, at the moment of national disaster and national peril, rushed to appeal to people who didn't want to lose their homes. Get up, get up, shout out the storm inside us and publicize our idea of resisting Japan and saving the country. People who don't want to be conquered, get up and dedicate our youth to the motherland and our lives to our mothers. In order to drive out the Japanese aggressors, defend our sacred land and defend the unyielding dignity of the Chinese mother, our heads can be broken, our bodies can be destroyed and our lives can rest in peace in China. China has brave soil. As long as there is danger, China has a backbone. As long as there is youth, there is hope. Today, we bid farewell to war and suffering, but we can't bid farewell to every word of blood and fire in history, let alone every hero in the December 29th Movement. Today, we cherish the memory of the history of blood and tears with sacred poems, carry forward the spirit of1February 9, and carry forward the past and forge ahead between farewell and memory. Please look at my greatness today.
Is it okay? Tired! Hoo hoo!