When I use/slender pen and ink/outline your appearance.
When I pronounce your name in a broken dialect.
When/after/hymns/gushed from my pen.
How I want to say that I love you so much, my motherland.
My motherland/is capitalized China.
This is a vast fertile land full of flowers.
My country/is proud of China.
It is the nourishment of Millennium culture and the fruit of civilization.
In my pages, there are/the most distant poems of the motherland.
That's the most classic rhyme in Yuan Qu of Tang poetry and Song poetry.
On my desk, there is the heaviest Xuan ink in China.
This is an art treasure house that combines big seal script, lower case script, Han Li, cursive script and dragon and phoenix dance.
My motherland is the south of China in March.
She has endless rice fields and lakes.
She/she is a brick and tile, carving beams and painting buildings.
There is a poetic China growing in every yard.
My motherland.
This is/on the alluvial plain of the Yellow River/a magnificent song.
It/the city where the Yangtze River flows/a winding river.
When I touch my motherland with my warm palm.
My motherland built China with Chinese characters.
Is it/the culture of five thousand years/China?
My motherland is China.
Yes/freehand brushwork of flowers and birds, meticulous brushwork of mountains and rivers.
Motherland, you are/mother embroidered basket/colorful silk thread.
You are/father's powerful stroke/the last peak.
This is a/horizontal, vertical/integrated Chinese style.
My/Capital China.
I use/consult/open your poem.
Every peak of yours is an enlarged Chinese character.
They/in my life/in my blood/grow.
My/Capital China!