I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years; When you crawl in the tunnel of history, I am a miner's lamp with black on your forehead.
Explore; I am the withered ear of rice, the disrepair roadbed; It is a barge on the muddy beach, pulling the rope deep into your shoulder,-motherland!
I'm poor and I'm sad. I am the painful hope of your ancestors, a flower that will not fall to the ground for thousands of years.
-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow; I am your laughing nest with tears hanging; I'm new here.
Brush a white starting line; It is the crimson dawn in generate-the motherland!
I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You are scarred.
Motherland, my dear motherland Shu Ting.
I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years; When you crawl in the tunnel of history, I am a miner's lamp with black on your forehead.
Explore; I am the withered ear of rice, the disrepair roadbed; It is a barge on the muddy beach, pulling the rope deep into your shoulder,-motherland!
I'm poor and I'm sad. I am the painful hope of your ancestors, a flower that will not fall to the ground for thousands of years.
-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow; I am your laughing nest with tears hanging; I'm new here.
Brush a white starting line; It is the crimson dawn in generate-the motherland!
I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You fed me with scarred breasts, lost me, cared for me,
Boil me; Then get your wealth, your glory and your freedom from my flesh and blood; -Motherland, my dear motherland!