A: I am quicksand in the Yellow River, which has infiltrated the land of China for five thousand years. The rain washed away the sand and the cold wind roared. Sunshine is clothes and moonlight is clothes.
Tang Yao Yushun was also angry with my roar.
B, I am the tumbling river in the Yangtze River, and I have shed tears of frustration for 5,000 years. The rain melted into tears, and the cold wind made me cry. Sunshine is clothes and moonlight is clothes.
Britain, the United States, Japan and France have also been chiseled into stains and spots.
C, I am a lush green tree on the top of Mount Tai, and I have been sucking the dew of nature for five thousand years. Watching the mighty river flow backwards and listening to the white clouds falling. The universe is my home, and the vault is my home.
Poets and poets swarmed in.
Ding, I'm a smoke cloud at the waist of Lushan Mountain, and I've been wandering on Panshan Road for five thousand years. Magnificent world forest architecture, the Oriental Pearl on the Huangpu River. The vault is my home and the universe is my home.
The moon, the moon and the moon also stopped in a hurry.
First, the mountains of the motherland, the water of the motherland!
B, you are not afraid of wind and frost, you dare to fight, you are not afraid of power, you are willing to be lonely.
Third, the mountains of the motherland, the water of the motherland! I am a gurgling stream in your mountains and valleys, and I am an eagle soaring on your peak.
Ding, I am a fish that has been swimming in your stream for many years. I am a shade that grows by your lake. Motherland, what should I be to you?
Motherland, what should I be to you?
B, is it the swaying green on your mountain ridge, or the beautiful flowers by the stream, the song that you came back from the boat in the evening, or the waterfall flowing in the mountain stream, my motherland, where the clouds fall in the stream, the cattle and sheep reflect the clear waves, the distant mountains curl up and smoke, dance into women's skirts, and the fields are gray, illuminating the peasant song village, the sound of chickens and flutes, and lighting up the dreams.
Third, motherland, what should I be to you?
Ding, am I a willow splashing by the lake, a faint smoke rising from the fountain, or a little yellow on the butterfly's wings? In my motherland, tall buildings are higher than the setting sun, the distant towers sway the setting sun, yangko overflows the streets, laughter is like smoke, traffic is rolling, the eyebrows of Iraqis are shining with moonlight, wine and silver are shining, and music flows all night.
Motherland, what should I be to you?
B, am I a smiling pine in Huangshan Mountain, a cloud floating between the eyebrows, a mist steaming and winding in Lushan Mountain, or a stream flowing with people in Jiuzhai, the bell of Fengqiao Bridge is still ringing, and the wine leaving Yangguan in the west is not cold. The forests near the Great Wall are all red, and the crescent moon is like a hook. The watchman in Chang 'an is still awake, and Tang poetry and Song poetry are jumping on the bluestone brick.
Third, motherland, what should I be to you?
Ding, am I Yue Fei with a sad face, or is Wen Tianxiang sighing deeply? Is it the wind of Sun Yat-sen waving the flag, or the light of Lu Xun's brow? My motherland, the water of Qinhuai River is still dripping with laughter, and there are also many cries. Humen fort reflects the moon, and the pine trees in the mountains are slightly illuminated, and the heroism is still there. Zhou Enlai's smile is still there. The sound in front of Tiananmen Square still stands as a road sign, allowing people to come and go to welcome the March sunshine.
Motherland, what should I be to you?
B, am I a smile on your face, a slight sadness, an elegant dress on your Eucharist, or a hidden injury?
Dear motherland, how can I love you?
Ding, should I keep a song for you and pretend, or write a poem with my conscience, say a word with my heart, shout out your pain with my only breath, stick my bones in the soil and grow a green and determined light every year.
Motherland, how can I love you?
Dear motherland, I will always belong to you. Write a song with my heart, my feelings and my love spectrum, and sing happiness, sadness, bitterness and joy. These are my persistent regrets!
Together, my dear motherland, I will always be you, always snuggling up to you, always listening to your heartbeat!