If I were a bird,
I should also sing with a hoarse throat:
This land hit by the storm,
This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,
This endless wind,
And the gentle dawn from the forest ...
And then I died,
Even feathers rot in the ground.
Why do I often cry?
Because I love this land deeply. ...
1938 1 1 month17th.
-
Wild Goose River-My Nanny
Dayanhe is my nanny.
Her name is the name of the village where she was born
She is a child bride,
Dayanhe is my nanny.
I am the son of the landlord;
I also grew up eating milk from Dayan River.
Son of Dayan River.
Dayanhe raised her family and me,
I grew up on your milk,
Dayanhe, my Baum.
Dayanhe, the snow I saw today reminds me of you:
Your grave is covered with snow,
Your closed, dead Waffy living under the eaves,
The square garden you pawned,
The mossy stone chair in front of your door,
Dayanhe, the snow I saw today reminds me of you.
You hold me in your arms with thick palms and touch me;
After you set up the stove,
After you took charcoal powder off your skirt,
When you taste the cooked rice,
When you put the black sauce bowl on the black table,
When you have mended your child's clothes cut by thorns on the hillside,
After you bandaged your son's hand cut with a wooden knife,
After you strangled the lice on your husband's lining one by one,
When you pick up the first egg today,
You hold me in your arms with your big palm and touch me.
I am the landlord's son,
After I ate all your milk in Dayan River,
I was taken home by my parents who gave birth to me.
Ah, Dayanhe, why are you crying?
I'm a new guest at my parents' house!
I touched the furniture carved with red paint,
I touched the gold pattern on my parents' bed,
I looked blankly at the plaque on the eaves that I didn't know, "Family Fun".
I touched the silk and shell buttons of my new dress.
I looked at my mother's unfamiliar sister,
I sat on the oiled kang stool, holding the brazier.
I have eaten rice that has been ground three times.
However, I am so embarrassed! Because I
I became a new guest in my parents' house.
Dayanhe, for the sake of life,
After she drank all the milk,
She began to work with her arms hugging me;
She washed our clothes with a smile.
With a smile on her face, she went to the frozen pond near the village with a vegetable basket.
She smiled and cut Rob with ice.
With a smile on her face, she took out the spent grains eaten by pigs with her hands.
She fanned the fire in the saucepan with a smile on her face.
She smiled and went to the square with a basket on her back.
Sun those soybeans and wheat,
Dayanhe, for the sake of life,
After she drank all the milk,
She just held my arm and worked hard.
Wild goose river, deeply in love with her breasts;
During the Chinese New Year, I was busy cutting him the candy of that winter rice.
For him, she often walks quietly to her home on the edge of the village.
For him, walk up to her and call "Mom".
Dayan River, the red and green Guan Yunchang he painted.
Stick it on the wall next to the stove,
Dayanhe will boast about her breasts to her neighbors;
Dayanhe had a dream that he couldn't tell people:
In the dream, she ate her child's wedding wine,
Sitting in the bright and colorful hall,
Her beautiful daughter-in-law affectionately calls her "old woman"
… … … …
Dayanhe, love her breasts!
Dayanhe died before her dream woke up.
When she died, her breasts were not with her,
When she died, her mother-in-law who usually scolded her also shed tears for her.
Five sons, each crying sadly,
When she died, she whispered the name of her child.
Dayanhe, dead,
When she died, her breasts were not with her.
Dayanhe, tears streaming down her face!
After more than 40 years of bullying,
The misery of countless slaves,
With a four-dollar coffin and a few bundles of rice grass,
There are square cemeteries several feet long,
With a handful of paper and money,
Dayanhe, she left with tears in her eyes.
This is what Dayanhe doesn't know:
Her drunken husband died,
The eldest son became a bandit,
The second one died in the smoke of gunfire,
Third, fourth and fifth times
And I am writing a spell for this immoral world.
When I returned to my native land after a long wandering,
In Shan Ye,
Brothers and sisters meet, more intimate than six or seven years ago!
This, this is for you, the sleepy Dayan River.
You don't know anything!
Dayanhe, your baby is in prison today.
Write a beautiful poem for you,
Give you the purple soul under the loess,
Reach out to you and hug my hand,
Let you kiss my lips,
Presenting you with a muddy and soft face,
Dedicated to the nursing room where you raised me,
To your sons, my brothers,
Presented on the earth in the form of cutting,
My dam-like Baum and their son,
Dedicated to Dayan River, which loves me as my own son.
Dayanhe, I grew up eating your milk.
Your son
I respect you.
love you
-
Li Ming's common sense
For my prayers.
Poet, get up
Please tell them.
Said that what they had been waiting for had come.
Said I came from the dew.
Has been led by the last star.
I come from the east.
Come up from the rough sea.
I will bring light to the world.
Bring warmth to mankind.
Lend you a straight mouth.
Please arouse my interest.
A man who knows that his eyes are burning with thirst
And distant cities and villages are immersed in hardships.
Invite them to welcome me.
The first pilot of the white sun, the messenger of light.
Open all the windows to welcome you.
Open all the doors to welcome you.
Please whistle to welcome you.
Please blow the horn to welcome us.
Please ask the street sweeper to sweep the street.
Please take the truck to move the garbage.
Let the workers walk in the street with broad steps.
Let the cars line up in a splendid procession across the square.
Please wake up from the wet fog.
I opened their fence to welcome them.
Let the village women open their chickens.
Ask the farmers to pull the plowed cows out of the cowshed.
Tell them through your warm mouth.
Said I came from the other side of the mountain, the other side of the forest.
Ask them to clean up those dry fields.
And those dirty wells.
Please open the window covered with floral paper.
Please open the door with Spring Festival couplets.
Please call the woman who woke Yin Qin up.
And the boy who snores.
Ask young lovers to get up, too.
And those sleepy girls
Please wake up the sleeping mother.
And the baby next to him
Please wake everyone up.
Even the patients and midwives
Even those old people
People groaned in bed.
Even the wounded fighting for justice.
And those refugees who fled because of the collapse of their hometown.
Please wake up those unfortunate people.
I will comfort them.
Please wake up a person who loves life.
Workers, technicians and painters
Please welcome the singer with a song.
The sound of grass soaking dew
Ask the dancers to dance to welcome you.
Put on their white misty dressing gowns.
Please wake up those healthy and beautiful people.
Say I'll knock on their window at once.
Please be loyal to the poets of that era.
Bring comfort to mankind.
Ask them to prepare for the happy reception, and ask all people to prepare for the happy reception.
I will come when the rooster crows for the last time.
Ask them to look up at the sky with sincere eyes.
I will give the kindest light to all who have been waiting for me.
Please tell them at the end of the night.
Said that what they were waiting for came.
-
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.
It's 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
-
Motherland, I love you.
I like your jingling camel bells.
It is it that makes the Silk Road go back to ancient times. I love your green grass buds.
It covers the desolate Gobi desert. I like your rural flute.
It is it that scatters colorful notes in all directions.
I like the tall buildings in your city.
It is it that puts people's ideals in the sun.
I like the blue waves of the Yangtze River.
It played and sang the voices of 56 nationalities.
I love you, waves of the Yellow River.
Raised 654.38+300 million people.
I like the majesty of the Great Wall.
It is the backbone of China people.
Huangshan, I love you.
It shows the beauty and dignity of the motherland.
I love your broad-minded plateau.
It is it that reveals the courage of the people of China.
I like the density of your sugarcane forest.
It is sweet to the hearts of hundreds of millions of people.
I like your open window.
It is it that makes the flower of civilization bloom.
I like your wave of reform.
It is it that takes off the hat of poverty and backwardness.
I like your clever mind.
It was it that won the gold medal for the four great inventions.
I love your hardworking hands.
It's for the modern motherland.
I like your great national flag.
It represents the direction of the people.
I like your colorful sails.
It is it that makes the ship of the century whistle and sail!
Motherland, I love you.
I like your Aoki grass show.
I like your birdsong and frog's singing.
I love your mountains and rivers.
I love your city, town and country.
I like your affair.
You love your beautiful sun.
Motherland, I love you.
You gave me life.
You gave me strength.
You give me the desire to plug in.
A pair of flying wings
-
Autumn in the motherland
Author Cao Yuxiang
Today, you walked into the square in autumn.
It's late autumn, the weather is getting cold, and chrysanthemums are in bloom.
The wind carried four blue lakes into the air.
In the air, slowly passing through the clouds of fleet.
In the air, the wings of wild geese paddle the sculls of the season.
Greet the ups and downs of the earth with songs
In clear autumn, you see all the people.
Waves in cities, villages and the Pacific Ocean.
Even seeing your childhood, grandma.
On the haystack, a child rang the doorbell.
This Yuan Ye, this river, this fallen leaf, this fruit.
Every day, a national flag is raised in the square.
Every day, this land will grow a ray of sunshine.
Everything is worth it, and you are happy inside.
You smiled and remembered a dream you had.
Who can not love their motherland?
"Motherland", when you gently say the word.
It is equal to telling your destiny, relatives and hometown.
When you say "autumn" with your eyes,
That is time, life, and remoteness.
-
Yu Youren's last poem "National Mourning"
Bury me in the mountains,
Look at my continent;
The mainland is gone,
Only crying.
Bury me in the mountains,
Look at my hometown;
My hometown is gone,
Never forget.
The sky is gray,
The sea is vast,
Shan Ye,
The whole country mourned.
-
I am proud, I come from China! 》
Among countless blue eyes and brown eyes,
I have a pair of black eyes like jewels.
I am proud, I come from China!
Among countless white skin and black skin,
My skin is as yellow as the earth,
I am proud, I come from China!
I'm from China-
The Loess Plateau is my chest,
The flowing water of the Yellow River is my boiling blood;
The Great Wall is my raised arm,
Mount Tai is my heel.
I'm from China.
My ancestors walked out of the forest for the first time.
My ancestors started farming first.
I am a descendant of the compass and printing.
I am a descendant of pi and seismograph.
In my country,
There are not only immortals in history.
Keywords Confucius, Sima Qian, Li Zicheng, Sun Yat-sen,
And immortality in the history of literature
Hua Mulan, Lin Daiyu, the Monkey King, Lu.
I am proud that I am from China!
I'm from China.
My voice is as rough as the Yellow River,
Not only in the United Nations building,
Speak out China's comments,
Also at the Olympic Games,
Shouting "China scores".
When applause sent the flag of China to the blue sky,
I wish I were from China!
I'm from China.
My huge arms are like the Great Wall,
Not only the drill pipe of the diamond oil production machine
Predict that the center of the earth can't hit oil,
Send communication satellites to our ancestors.
White clouds that I have never seen in my dream.
When the five oceans listen to the voice of the East,
I am proud, I come from China.
I'm from China.
I am a descendant of the murals in Mogao Grottoes.
Let the flying murals be with us.
I'm Tian Fei,
Flying is us.
I am proud, I come from China!