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, a disrepair roadbed.
This is a barge on the beach.
Draw the rope deep
Stuff it on 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,
-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal,
Just broke free from the spider web of myth;
I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow;
I am your laughing nest with tears hanging;
I am the newly painted white starting line;
This is crimson dawn.
It's spraying,
-the motherland!
I'm 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.
I recited it, and it feels good.