Labor Day Poetry Recitation Draft 1 Song of Laborers
The flowers in May are beautiful and fragrant.
The songs in May are crisp and loud.
The red flag in May is particularly bright.
The sun is particularly bright in May.
This kind of flower blooms all over the world.
This song resounds through the mountains and seas.
This red flag brightens the five-color skin.
This sunshine warms the chests of hundreds of millions of people.
Red May has given us dignity as human beings.
Red May gave us the strength to save the world.
Red May gave us the right to live.
Red May has given us lofty ideals.
We are the mainstay of the country.
We are the pillars of the country.
We are the only masters of the world.
We are the driving force of history.
We waved-the mountain bowed its head and gave way.
We stamp our feet-the river flows backwards.
We looked up-the blue sky gave the stars and the moon.
We bow down-the earth gives us treasures.
We have "created" one billionaire after another with blood and sweat.
We built heaven after heaven with our hands.
We are proud of May.
We are proud of our labor.
We are fearless for our ideals.
We sing for freedom.
Flowers in May, you bloom day and night.
We will always have sex and protect the gardener of flowers.
May's song, are you loud?
We will always be your neatest and grandest choir.
Red flag in May, flying high.
For generations, we have been your most loyal standard bearers.
The sunshine in May shines forever.
According to working people all over the world-
Freedom, autonomy and self-reliance, and labor rights and interests are guaranteed.
Long live labor! Long live liberation!
May day labor day poetry reading manuscript 2 singing labor
Singing labor
In this season when flowers wake up and willow branches dance.
I sang about an earthworm crawling under soft soil.
This peristalsis is the most beautiful dance.
It is related to the bending posture of farmers farming and sowing.
Beautiful fit, full of golden yellow of some soybeans.
Daoxiang has become a land full of water.
The most beautiful dance god
Second, singing labor.
In a remote hometown village thousands of miles away.
I sing about my old country mother.
She doesn't know that one day in May is Mother's Day.
All I know is that the smoke rose early.
Then he hoed the ground and went to the field.
Let the dripping sweat overcome the desire for a bumper harvest
Looking at the wheat seedlings is like their lush daughter, growing up in green.
Third, singing labor.
In the dark and hard center of the earth 800 meters deep.
I sang a black miner's lamp.
Its flame is salty with sweat.
The mine disaster hardened those bones.
Countless hands of carbon black hold up another dawn.
At the moment, the warm sun rising in Ran Ran shines on the body.
Lighter than air and heavier than rock.
Fourth, singing labor.
Every quiet or noisy street in the city
I sang a broom that danced leisurely.
It is silent, and its body is close to the earth.
Rub some rouge to make up for the city.
About the ordinary and the great
About humbleness and sublimity
Dancing broom, interpreted with beautiful dance.
Five-song labor
In the white delivery room of a hospital next to me.
I sang every happy cry of the newborn baby.
It is loud and melodious, like a happy note.
Dancing on the tired sweat of the female nurse
I really want to dedicate the most beautiful poems to them.
Can face them-these sacred angels
How humble my weak poems are.