Poetry about celebrating the motherland 1 On the National Day, the birthday of the motherland.
When the family is happy, it is reunion in August.
Every expectation of hard work is only this autumn.
In drum music, it is the most special.
Open the palm of the years, the sun is shining.
Building a bridge of friendship lasts forever.
In an instant, looking up, filled with the purest smile.
Who can sleep with me under the full moon?
When waiting wholeheartedly, it is the majesty of the military parade.
When you are full of joy, it is the smell of delicious moon cakes.
Hand in hand, hug, dynamic melody, unique and elegant.
Who could it be? The precipitation of life is better than yesterday's vicissitudes.
Stealing my childhood diary, my heart is stirring.
How many childhood laughter, childish and strong.
How much pride is there in the rhythm?
Will suppress the most persistent waiting in every autumn wind.
It was the eagle that spread its wings and disturbed the stars in the sky.
It is the welcome of Xiaodong and midsummer, which holds up the Mid-Autumn Moon.
There are as many special celebrations as there are special reverie.
How many seasons of reunion, how many Qiu Ge's deep feelings are full of handsomeness.
Poems praising the motherland 2 1
Early in the morning, standing under a high stone tablet.
Calm pines and cypresses have a strong personality.
I, an unknown poet.
Write this group of poems against the breeze.
This is a group of affectionate poems.
To the martyrs and the bright five-star red flag.
For my country.
Come to the general's grave
Also stood in the battlefield filled with smoke.
I saw this in the loud charge.
In the face of gunfire, the brave soldier fell.
I see bright red blood flowing.
I feel a force rushing inside and outside me.
Sit down, I have tears in my eyes.
Sitting on this slope in the war
Look up at the blue sky
My soul is in a cloud.
Hear lasting passion
That is a rich and profound song.
Raise in the wind, a song
This opened my complex.
I often walk here.
Look at the pine and cypress standing solemnly.
Red soil and green plants are growing.
Similarly, it also grows the truest memory.
In that inspiring song
My dream is still galloping on the battlefield.
It's hard to forget: "Go ahead for the new China!"
two
The wind in spring is still a little cold.
But who will miss the season of publicizing life?
From the city to the countryside, every new species and life
Keep smiling with an original truth.
I saw some earth-shattering things.
Come out of a crack in the rock.
I saw blood rising in the grass.
Today, look back.
I stand at the peak of history.
Look at the roaring river, the angry nation.
I saw an unyielding soul burning with unyielding flame.
Yes, we never give in to fate.
We came from the dust and walked through the smoke.
History has written us in bright red blood.
Motherland, I woke up from the morning like this.
Not for feelings and tears.
Blew out a cavity of blood
Just protect your dignity with my bleeding heart.
Make your mind and body complete and unified.
Just on a deserted hillside
Write a poem and plant a tree.
At this moment, I held my head high.
In front of my motherland, I feel
My weakness has become strong.
Me, flowers and any birds.
Can wander in the river of life.
Or die in the forefront of national peril?
Indeed, we have no room for hesitation.
three
There is no boundary between pure May and warm June.
I picked up a cup of crimson liquid.
Welcome the bright moonlight and the loud sun.
The music played and the celebration songs danced.
There is a hand rising in the undulating echo.
Blue waves rippled in the sky, condensing passion.
My motherland! A cry broke out from the goblet.
At the moment, I don't want to call my motherland "mom"
Because in front of the motherland, I am too small and humble.
I am just an unknown poet, just like a country child.
Often awakened by some tender buds in spring.
They green every growing story in my heart.
So I learned to climb, run, think and mature.
I learned to pose like a river with tears in my eyes and a smile.
So, I traveled all over the country.
Your towering mountains and rushing rivers
Vast fields, boundless grasslands
Motherland, children of my motherland.
I touched your strong and determined bones.
Has quietly entered your life.
Until the depths of your blood
Then I began to think of myself as a seed.
Water, Poetry and Life
Plant on the land of the motherland
So, I use the purest voice.
Announce to the boundless sky
Am I a grass of the motherland, or
Red sorghum matured in autumn.