Qingming in spring is a rainy season.
Misty rain is wrapped around the knot of remembering the martyrs.
The heroic spirit of the martyrs is floating in the pines and cypresses.
Spring has become a flower, which makes people no longer cold.
I walked to your grave with a bunch of flowers in my hand.
The falling rain is the tears I pour out to you.
I haven't seen your face, but my heart
Bathed in the sunshine you combed, I appreciate everything you gave me.
China rose because of your sacrifice in the battle.
The five-star red flag that rises every day condenses your blood.
You retire at the dawn of victory and enjoy a good life.
You have become a monument, and your blessings float on the earth like spring breeze.
Heroes, ten thousand martyrs in Qian Qian.
Qingming Festival is here, go home.
Your hometown and future generations live in happiness.
Tonight, your souls will rest there.
Poems in memory of martyrs
Looking back on a hundred years, a long time,
Old China, bullied by foreign powers,
Sovereignty is lost, mountains and rivers are broken, and lives are ruined.
Facing the Chinese nation-
The greatest shame and danger in life,
How many people with lofty ideals are there?
Generous elegy, wave after wave,
Fight bloody battles at the forefront of the revolution.
They kept China away from the sick man of East Asia.
Resolutely came out
They have rewritten the Chinese nation.
A hundred years of tragic history
They shed their heads and blood.
Fighting bloody battles in the majestic drums.
Made for the Chinese nation.
Brilliant victory.
The beautiful reality is a revolutionary martyr.
The realm I look forward to and fight for.
Revolution of blood and fire
With the full development of today's construction.
Complement each other and blend into one.
Spring scenery of the earth
Became countless martyrs
Blood and life.
No one said,
Give him a fulcrum,
Can he move the earth?
Then, with patriotism and dedication,
Our great revolutionary martyr,
You can use the sun and the moon to make drums.
The Milky Way is a string,
Play all-round life!
We won't forget,
Never forget,
After countless frenzied massacres,
The Chinese nation, which has suffered great disasters,
Hold your head high,
A strong spine,
A pair of Himalayan shoulders,
A blood vessel of the Yellow River and the Yangtze River.
Yesterday,
We used to,
A civilization that has supported 5 thousand years,
Hold up the Great Wall and the Forbidden City;
today，
We must use1300 million pairs of arms,
Hold up the sun tomorrow,
Hold up the moon, Venus and Mars.
Every corner of the universe
Rockets, satellites and man-made spacecraft ...
two
Imagination makes eyes.
Through a billion walls on this autumn night.
Go against the Great Wall and the Yellow River
After five thousand years of hard work, the stars have changed.
Your unyielding shadow has solidified into the peak of the East.
On this quiet autumn night
I already feel that you are hugging me with your blessing.
I know, a mother's love is like a flower that blooms in May every year.
My young river of life
Your ancient years are the soul of poetry.
Stand up and think silently.
For generations, ancestors woke up the sleeping soil as scheduled.
They exposed bronze to the sky.
Sowing the Great Wall Sowing the Forbidden City
Usually on a moonlit night.
I am obsessed with reading you in a clear voice.
Generous yellow land
The Yellow River beats against the coast.
The Long Silk Road
That magical Dunhuang mural
In five thousand years of rain and snow.
You raised all the creatures that belong to you.
Yesterday, the June storm swept through.
You walk in the wind and predict the dawn on a cold night.
Your smile melted our tears.
The sun at night finally belongs to the prophecy of mankind.
It was a long time before we stopped.
The figure began to drift quietly in your sight.
In your blessing, we deeply reflect.
Please recite the poem we gave you.
When wandering, when flying.
Don't break mom's heart!
Can't cover everything about you.
In this quiet autumn night, give a gentle cry.
Oh, motherland, our lovely mother Huang!
Qingming I use poetry to pay homage to the martyrs
Qingming in spring is a rainy season.
Misty rain is wrapped around the knot of remembering the martyrs.
The heroic spirit of the martyrs is floating in the pines and cypresses.
Spring has become a flower, which makes people no longer cold.
I walked to your grave with a bunch of flowers in my hand.
The falling rain is the tears I pour out to you.
I haven't seen your face, but my heart
Bathed in the sunshine you combed, I appreciate everything you gave me.
China rose because of your sacrifice in the battle.
The five-star red flag that rises every day condenses your blood.
You retire at the dawn of victory and enjoy a good life.
You have become a monument, and your blessings float on the earth like spring breeze.
Heroes, ten thousand martyrs in Qian Qian.
Qingming Festival is here, go home.
Your hometown and future generations live in happiness.
Tonight, your souls will rest there.