If your voice is moderate, it can't be high or low. I suggest you recite Shu Ting's Motherland, My Dear Motherland.
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
My classmate recited this when he participated in the competition. I have music here. If you need it, ask me.
If your voice is rich and loud, you can recite young chinese.
With boundless night as ink
Use the scarred land as paper.
After the opium war
who is it?
Write down two words-China.
It makes people feel depressed and tired.
It is more painful to read and more sad to read.
This has shrunk in the history books of the late Qing Dynasty.
Thin porcelain.
The one kneeling in the treaty of nanking.
Weak China.
On that day, countless young people
Take to the streets.
Face the drop of blood
Facing the bleak life
Their shouts were like thunder.
Stir this sleeping land
They are like bundles of flames.
Spread on a tortuous road
Beautiful flowers bloom in May.
Since then, they have joined the ranks of * * * producers.
They chose without hesitation.
Smash the darkness with a hammer
Harvest the light with a sickle
They walked along the street.
They crossed the Xiongguan Pass.
They galloped on the battlefield.
They fought bravely against the enemy.
They are going to use the gun rod as a pen.
Write a brand-new China.
They should take blood as their color.
Describe a young China.
Many years later.
When my eyes crossed the peak of history
I can still feel their breathing.
I saw it again.
Youth groups
That sweaty face
I heard it again.
Their loud songs.
Reverberating on the barren land
They use their youth without regrets.
In the long years
Write a love poem
Yes, years are long and life is long.
This is a passionate poem.
This is a landscape full of flowers.
This is a magnificent symphony.
This is the monument of Top Gun.
Oh, China, I want to write a poem for you.
In the golden language of the sun
The vast blue of the heart sea
Oh, China, I want to draw a picture for you.
With the color of spring flowers
Under the five-star red flag
Today, the capital China.
It makes people read clearly and smoothly.
Today, a soaring China.
It makes people read more vividly and proudly.
This is breaking out in the east of the world.
China of Hope
This is under the leadership of the China * * * production party.
Brilliant China
This is ours.
Young chinese!
I recited this in the competition, and now I still have the soundtrack. This kind of recitation is very effective. If you need music, just ask me.
I hope my answer can help you.
Poems praising the motherland:
Motherland! This poetic name
It permeates your every season.
That's a white dove under the blue sky.
Wake up on the first morning in October.
Ah! Motherland, I have loved you for too long. ...
October! my motherland
Please give me a flashlight.
I follow in your footsteps.
Let every dream flow with sweetness.
Let all sounds be covered with golden notes.
The day I approached you-
Please fill the sky with rosy clouds for me.
I want to inject eternal vitality into your growing troubles.
The first October is always full of echoes, like tears falling from flowers.
* * * The voice of America walks through your heart.
Extend to the most passionate melody
In my heart, you are more than just a green island to rest on.
You are my red cloud, rising with the beat.
Whether it's mountains, valleys, fields, trails or the sea.
Numerous failures and successes have enriched October.
Ah! homeland ...
Who is wearing the crown of October?
The first morning in October is in front of Tiananmen Square.
I feel the aftertaste of sweet-scented osmanthus and the sound of bumper harvest drums.
I recall the historical sound carved on white marble.
My mind has changed.
Flying clouds
vast territory of the motherland
How can I not cultivate my beautiful character and integrity? !
The rising October has been contested in Qian Fan.
And my singing, my motherland.
Become a flock of flying white doves
Full of vibration
shake ...
Motherland! This poetic name
It permeates your every season.
That's a white dove under the blue sky.
Wake up on the first morning in October.
Ah! Motherland, I have loved you for too long. ...
October! my motherland
Please give me a flashlight.
I follow in your footsteps.
Let every dream flow with sweetness.
Let all sounds be covered with golden notes.
The day I approached you-
Please fill the sky with rosy clouds for me.
I want to inject eternal vitality into your growing troubles.
The first October is always full of echoes, like tears falling from flowers.
* * * The voice of America walks through your heart.
Extend to the most passionate melody
In my heart, you are more than just a green island to rest on.
You are my red cloud, rising with the beat.
Whether it's mountains, valleys, fields, trails or the sea.
Numerous failures and successes have enriched October.
Ah! homeland ...
Who is wearing the crown of October?
The first morning in October is in front of Tiananmen Square.
I feel the aftertaste of sweet-scented osmanthus and the sound of bumper harvest drums.
I recall the historical sound carved on white marble.
My mind has changed.
Flying clouds
vast territory of the motherland
How can I not cultivate my beautiful character and integrity? !
The rising October has been contested in Qian Fan.
And my singing, my motherland.
Become a flock of flying white doves