Chapter 1: The spear about the history of war
Obliquely stabbed
from the dusty pile of old paper, hurting a string of feelings
Daily encounters with war
Thus became my career
Meng Jiangnv's sadness of seeking a husband
collapsed a corner of history
. Trail
wedged into the annual rings through the ages
is like a mirror hanging over people's heads
illuminating our eyes
seeing the road ahead further
Chapter 2: Accusing the war
Our ancestors
worked hard and excellently
experienced hardships
believed in justice
Oracle Bone Inscriptions. Our direction
gunpowder gives wings to civilization
We were proud of it
But the years that have been raging for years
Tears are a kind of helplessness
They can't save the beauty
Kings can't finish writing epic poems
They praise themselves forever
Their feats are engraved on huge stones
It's too embarrassing when they break
The interests are above
. Evil
selfish hearts
travel across the ocean
desperate
write their shameful lives with their evil hands
revolutionaries
read in a room full of blood
scream
fill the world
don't change books
but people who write books
struggle. The martyrs made a painful choice
a heavy rain
history has turned for a century
heroes holding red flags
regrouping rivers and mountains
brothers with yellow panels
how to start rebuilding their homes
how to turn history
and open another book
Our courage
is not only for knowledge
but also for learning. As the daily routine
is scheduled, it will come on time
the echo is rumbling, the silence is scattered
the people who exclaim, and the people who have no time to exclaim
are drowned in the night and roar
torn by the exploding light
Lord, people pray:
Let it go
. For all this peace
don't say, for all this peace
for all this peace
the gun is aimed at the gun again
the lamp is faint, Declare
a numb poet
look on coldly
and write:
Here
Death is a kind of pain
Living is another kind of pain
Unfortunately is a kind of pain
Surviving is another kind of pain
Here
Sorrow is described by corpses
People bear it by habit <