Yesterday, this was a village.
Life has been like this for many years.
Poverty and backwardness bind people.
Modern civilization is so far away.
Dad works in the field in the morning.
In the smoke, grandma is by the fire,
The children rolled around in the straw,
The girl picked up the swaying sunset from the stream. ...
Oh, just a few short years,
The change is beyond people's imagination.
This village on the border of the motherland,
Miraculously changed his appearance.
The expressway replaced the muddy ancient road,
The dilapidated adobe house became a factory building.
The children's playground is full of laughter.
Colorful fountains are decorated like fairyland.
Anyone here? What about people I know?
Did they leave the place where they lived for generations?
No, they didn't leave their motherland.
Familiar faces can be seen everywhere in the special zone.
They drive trucks, transport cement and steel,
Holding a leather bag, negotiating with foreign businessmen to set up a factory.
Wandering in the ocean of knowledge with light,
Dance and sing to the music.
Instead of just looking at your feet for three meals,
Asking eyes have crossed the border and shot in all directions.
From appearance to heart,
Just like the colorful new city in DC.
This is the farmer who once faced the loess with his back to the sky.
Reform and opening up have given them wings,
Like Chun Yan flying in the field,
It conveys new information and depicts beautiful spring scenery.