Motherland, motherland
Rivers
Where the heroes fell
I stand up and sing for the motherland
I solemnly placed the Great Wall on the mountains of the north
Like a heavy chain that has been shaking for thousands of years
Like lifting up the body of a son who just died
Still twitching in my hand
Behind me is my mother
National pride, suffering and protest
In the ruthless eyes of history
A flash of uneasiness passed through
It was deeply engraved on my forehead
A glorious scar
Smoke rose from my head
Countless broken bones screamed and flew away in the wind
Start up the white clouds
Start up flocks of pure doves and follow the doves, anger and enthusiasm
I have traveled through many eras and many places
I have walked through wars, ruins, and corpses
The waves are beating against the rolling mountains
Bleeding< /p>
Hold up and send away the blood-red sun
The shadow floats in the boundless land
Spots──like lakes, like tears
Like green forests and grasslands
Hidden people flashing with sadness and life
Like the faint painful memories of my nation
There is no land It makes me so sad and excited
No river can make me meditate and rise like this
This land seems tired and has slept for thousands of years
The stone in the Tossing and turning in nightmares, they accumulate
Slowly grow into stone steps, walls, and cornices
Like incense holders, like branches of gilded flowers
The faint sound of bells Trembling on the branches
Shaking away the annual hope
Ruining morning after morning
Cities floated and drifted like islands< /p>
More confused than a ship in the fog
Large tracts of crops mature in sweat
As if farmers’ simple faith
Nothing
Leave it for the time when you wake up
Leave it for the clear silence
Perhaps
Trouble and bloodiness will arise from this moment
Gunpowder began to smoke
The compass touched the bow-like ship
Silk flowed in the opposite direction of the river to the world
Like a touch of afterglow, weaving stars gently
Entrust beautiful myths and women to the moon
Then, what is the need
Let the emperor's carriage in There are ruts on the paper
Let the people be as thin and thin as two words
Let me show off my past again
I can’t say it< /p>
I can only open my eyes wide
Watching the bronze civilization peeling off layer by layer
Like the dry land, the calluses on my hands
And honest lips whipped by the wind
I want to announce to the satin-like luxurious sky
This is not morning, your blood has solidified
< p>However, my motherlandAfter all, you have left behind so many sons
Leaving behind arms that are bloodshot after labor
Hanging down── Gradually tighten your grip Fist left behind
Leave behind flags of rebellion in the smoke and dust of history
Leave failure behind, leaving behind a spinning forest
The branches intertwined and stretched toward the sky< /p>
The roar of beasts
Layered leaves are falling in the north
Still thickly covering the south
Rolling with the heavy crops
The birds flew up
Motherland, you left behind such beautiful mountains and rivers
Leave behind desire and responsibility, waterfalls and grass
Leaving behind gleaming palaces and ancient groans
Groups of gasping gray houses
Leaving behind strong contrasts and unevenness
The desert and The twists and turns of the harbor
Thoughts as calm as ice on the top of the mountain
Thoughts for many years
Rumble and break
< p>Anxiously turning into waterPlunging into the canyon, deep and turbulent
Colliding relentlessly with the black rocks
Floating towards the silently stretching land< /p>
In the gentle character of my nation
Between simplicity, brewing and the pain of drunkenness
I saw large tracts of sheep and horses
p>Over the fence, moving towards the grassland
Between the sweaty cowhide, the rake
and the rough palms of my old trees
The land becomes soft and the feelings become hard
As long as there are mountains, plains and oceans
My body will always be majestic and graceful
Like a tree after another The sound of waves after trees
rolls from the vein-like road to the river
My team is vast and boundless
As long as there is an abyss, Darkness and sky
My thoughts will rise painfully and float on the mountaintops
As long as there is accumulation and there is the sun
How can my heart not Jump out and travel around the motherland
The tree roots and the feet trudging through the mud are my basis
The bitter wind stimulates me, and the wheat and chimneys are growing
Nothing can stop it
Even if the door is built and the wall is built
The house is built for gathering, sleeping and living
One by one the windows are like The crystal wine glass makes a sound
Like a shining book turning page by page
Reproduction does not mean crowding and quarreling
As long as you have hands , hands and hands will hold together
Even if it is a string of bells in the desert, like bells
Coconuts shaking on the neck of the coconut tree
It will be hot to the touch In the air, the tired nets on the beach are also my hope
The cold pine needles and the thorns of the rice
are my sunshine towards the sun
The sun hangs on my shoulders, like cherries and grapes
It feels like sweat and kisses flowing through my chest
Dark clouds After my shouts and lightning
Rain like crazy
Like dying revenge
Falling down the miserable torn sky
Then, in history
I will always choose such a time
In the humidity and emptiness
Keep my voice low Low
Pressed into the deep mineral deposits and chest
Echoing the songs of black people from another continent
Singing the motherland with a deep throat scorchingly
p>1978
Note: "Motherland, Motherland" is selected from "Start From Here" (Huacheng Publishing House, 1986 edition).
The music can be Wagner's Die Walküre.