You come from the top of the snowy mountain,
Surging is your style.
In the summer breeze,
You are as elegant as a lady,
The scenery on both sides is your skirt.
You roll eastward to the seaside,
The twists and turns are your feelings.
In the warm sunshine in winter,
You are as beautiful and noble as a girl,
The rippling waves are your shy cheeks.
Yellow River, my mother!
Your face spans a thousand years,
You have a hundred battles in your arms.
The tortuous word "a few",
It is the ardent expectation of Chinese children;
That distant and high-spirited song,
This is the call of overseas travelers eager to go home.
Yellow River, my mother!
You come from the top of the snowy mountain,
Surging is your style;
You roll like the sea,
Nine twists and turns are your feelings!
(Author: Wang Binghan)
(2) Don't wait for your mother to shed all her tears.
When the Yellow River surges,
Leaving the footsteps of the years,
We are on a busy journey,
This should become a habit,
In the dream, black willows send coolness,
Mother's tears are also full of bitterness,
So vastness is in vain.
When the Yellow River is strong,
Branded with traces of history,
We provide feelings of sadness,
Afraid of losing, but delaying youth,
Afraid of missing but forgetting to look back,
Afraid of being sad, but blindly absorbing,
Mother's tears are full of expectation,
So time became a memory.
When the Yellow River is business as usual,
Keeping the oath of migratory birds,
We are shouldering the hope of the future,
Forgot to keep our promise,
Forgot to cherish the company,
Mother's tears always dry up,
So time becomes sad.
No needs, no habits,
Forget the loss, miss, sadness,
Pick up the remaining feathers,
May the breeze be calm next year and the migratory birds remain the same.
Go to your mother,
Stained with her majestic and weak body,
Don't wait for her tears to break her heart. ......