"Motherland, My Dear Motherland"/Shu Ting I am a worn-out old waterwheel by your river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years; When you grope in the tunnel of history, I am a miner's lamp with black forehead; I am the withered ear of rice, the disrepair roadbed; It is a barge on the muddy beach, pulling the rope deep into your shoulder-the motherland! I'm poor and I'm sad. I am the painful hope of your forefathers, the flower that will never land between the sleeves of "flying"-the motherland! I am your brand-new ideal, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow; I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging; I am the newly painted white starting line; What is breaking out is the crimson dawn; -the motherland! I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You fed me with scarred breasts, confused me, considerate me and boiled me; Then get your wealth, your glory and your freedom from my flesh and blood; -Motherland, my dear motherland!
Wen Yiduo's "A Word"
There is a saying that it is a curse.
There is a saying that you can light a fire.
Although no one has said it for 5 thousand years,
Can you guess the silence of the volcano?
Maybe he was suddenly possessed,
Suddenly, there was a thunderbolt in the blue sky.
Explosion:
"Our China!"
What should I say today?
You don't believe that Cycas blooms,
So there is a sentence you listen to:
When the volcano couldn't help being silent,
Don't tremble, stick out your tongue and stamp your feet.
Wait until the blue sky thunders.
Explosion:
"Our China!"