Motherland, I am proud of you.
When the magnificent huabiao,
Let the tall and straight body be covered with dawn,
When the majestic Tiananmen Square,
Let the clouds meet the rising sun.
The ear of history,
The salute rumbled,
An avalanche of echoes,
It is the echo of the changes in China.
A giant looks down at the world,
A loud voice,
The whole world heard it,
People's Republic of China (PRC) was founded!
When the first five-star red flag Ran Ran was raised,
Flag of victory,
Flying in the wind of the sky,
People looked up,
The whole world saw it,
The people of China have stood up since then!
This period of history embodies greatness,
Indulge in the sunshine in October,
This momentum is full of passion,
A monument stands in the east of the world.
A glorious era,
With strong hands,
He wrote a glorious chapter of the new China,
People proudly pointed out the direction.
Suffering mother,
Wipe the tears from your eyes,
Show your inner joy, be happy sincerely,
The motherland bravely moves towards prosperity.
Praise our history,
There is a myth that Pangu created the world.
Generate the light that shines with life.
Praise our history,
There are four great inventions,
Sow on this barren land.
Praise our history,
With the wisdom of Laozi and Confucius,
The flame of thousands of years of civilization has illuminated us.
China!
When the bright sun jumps out of the blue waves of the East China Sea,
The Pamirs are still full of stars.
When the northland was still a world wrapped in silver,
Southern Xinjiang has long been permeated with rich spring scenery.
Ah, we love you, China!
We love you—
The beauty of Guilin's landscape,
The heavy makeup of Hangzhou West Lake is light;
Huangshan Mountain and Lushan Mountain are shrouded in mist.
The magnificence of the Yangtze River and the Yellow River.
We love you—
The fragrance of Longjing tea,
Pure beauty of Moutai;
Jiangnan silk is bright and beautiful,
Jingdezhen ceramics are wonderful in the sky.
We love you—
The moonlight in front of Dai bamboo building is like water.
The towering Potala Palace on the roof of the world;
Grapes in Turpan, melons in Hami,
Sheep on the grassland, camels on the Gobi desert.
We love you—
Ancient songs played by chimes during the Warring States Period
A new song written by Kaige in public,
The surging spring tide in Wan Li, China
The fire of hope lit by the motherland,
We love you—
History of struggle writing,
Fruit irrigated by sweat,
Magnificent pine trees and noble plum blossoms.
Broad-minded and magnificent spirit
We are proud, we are proud.
We work hard and we develop.
You are a strong man in the forest of nations in the world.
We love you, China!
Dai Wangshu's "I Use Broken Palm"
I used my injured palm.
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.
There is a strange smell when the tender willow branches are broken. )
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;
The rice fields in Jiangnan are so soft ... now there is only Artemisia scoparia;
Litchi flowers in Lingnan are lonely and withered,
There, I was immersed in the bitter water of the South China Sea without fishing boats. ...
Invisible palms swept the mountains without complaint,
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 in my palm.
Put it on, 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!
Shu Ting's motherland, my dear motherland.
I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river.
Tired songs that have been spun for hundreds of years;
I am a miner's lamp blackened on your forehead,
Do what you do in the tunnel of history;
I am a withered ear of rice; It is a roadbed that has been in disrepair for a long time;
This is a barge on the beach.
Draw the rope deep
Pull into your shoulder;
-the motherland!
I'm 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;
-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal,
Just broke free from the spider web of myth;
I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow;
I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging;
I am the newly painted white starting line;
This is crimson dawn.
It is sprayed;
-the 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
Yours; Abundance, your glory, your freedom;
-the motherland,
My dear motherland!
Wen Yiduo's "A Word"
There is a saying that it is a curse.
There is a saying that you can light a fire.
Although no one has said it for 5 thousand years,
Can you guess the silence of the volcano?
Maybe he was suddenly possessed,
Suddenly, there was a thunderbolt in the blue sky.
Explosion:
"Our China!"
What should I say today?
You don't believe that Cycas blooms,
So there is a sentence you listen to:
When the volcano couldn't help being silent,
Don't tremble, stick out your tongue and stamp your feet.
Wait until the blue sky thunders.
Explosion:
"Our China!"
Motherland, my dear motherland.
Tired songs that have been spun for hundreds of years;
I am a miner's lamp blackened on your forehead,
Do what you do in the tunnel of history;
I am a withered ear of rice; It is a roadbed that has been in disrepair for a long time;
This is a barge on the beach.
Draw the rope deep
Pull into your shoulder;
-the motherland!
I'm 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;
-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal,
Just broke free from the spider web of myth;
I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow;
I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging;
I am the newly painted white starting line;
This is crimson dawn.
It is sprayed;
-the 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
Yours; Abundance, your glory, your freedom;
-the motherland,
My dear motherland!
I hope I can solve your problem.