Poems praising the motherland

Wen Tianxiang's Crossing the Ocean: "Once you encounter hard work, the stars are scattered around. The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind is floating, and life experiences are ups and downs. The beach of fear says fear, and there is a sigh in the ocean. Since ancient times, no one has died in life, leaving a glowing heart. "

Yu Qian's Ode to Lime: "A thousand hammers cut out of the mountain, and if the fire burns idle. I am not afraid of being smashed, I want to remain innocent in the world. "

Gong Zizhen's "Ji Hai Miscellaneous Poems" (No.5): "The sorrowful sun is setting, and the whip points to the horizon. Falling red is not heartless, but turning into spring mud is more protective. "

Motherland, my dear motherland.

(Shu Ting)

I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river.

Old songs that have been spun for hundreds of years.

I am a miner's lamp with your forehead blackened.

When you grope in the tunnel of history.

I am a withered ear of rice; This is a roadbed that is in disrepair.

This is a barge on the beach.

Draw the rope deep

Pull it into your shoulder

-the motherland!

I am very poor.

I am sad

I am your ancestor.

Painful hope.

It's a flying sleeve.

Flowers that never fall to the ground for thousands of years

-Motherland

I am your brand-new ideal.

Just broke free from the mythical spider web.

I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow.

I am your tearful smile.

I am the newly painted white starting line.

This is crimson dawn.

Spraying

-Motherland

I am one billionth of you.

Is the sum of your 9.6 million square meters.

With your scarred breasts,

raise

Lost me, considerate me, boiling me.

And then from my flesh and blood

get

Your richness, your glory, your freedom.

-Motherland

my dear motherland

Lu you

Yue Fei

Ai Qing

fang zhimin

Du Fu's "Spring Hope": "Although the country is divided, the mountains and rivers last forever, and the vegetation is spring. Sad state, can not help but burst into tears, amazing birds, leaving sorrow and hate. The war lasted for more than half a year, and letters from home were rare, with a hundred thousand gold. I stroke my white hair. It has become so thin that it can no longer hold hairpins. "

Li Qingzhao's "Summer quatrains": "Life is a hero, and death is a ghost hero. I still miss Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong. "

Fan Chengda's "State Bridge": "The north and south of the State Bridge are Tianjie, and the elders wait for the ride back year after year. He asked the messenger in tears, "When will the Sixth Army really come?" "