The motherland poem in my heart is 50 words.

The motherland is in my heart. Nothing is more sacred in my heart. We are fighting for you on the journey of enriching the country and strengthening the people. In the construction of a harmonious home, we fight for you. Dear motherland, we are with you. Dear motherland, we are suffering with you. Dear motherland, we are honored with you. Shuting motherland, my dear motherland, 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 a withered ear of rice; It is a roadbed that has been in disrepair for a long time; It is the barge on the muddy beach that pulls the rope deep into your shoulder; -the motherland! I'm poor and I'm sad. I am the pain of your ancestors, and I am a flower that never falls to the ground between the sleeves of "flying"; -the motherland! I am your brand-new idea, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am your snow quilt, the germ of ancient lotus; I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging; I am the newly painted white starting line; It is the crimson dawn, in generate; -the motherland! I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You fed me scarred * * *, confused, thoughtful and boiling; Then get your wealth, your glory and your freedom from my flesh and blood; -Motherland, my dear motherland! 1April 20, 979 (selected from "Double Mast Ship", Shanghai Literature and Art Publishing House, 1982 edition) Author of "Motherland ..."-Zhao I am a bird flying in your vast sky. Your rain or shine is uncertain, but it never disappears. I am a small fish swimming in your blue waves. You are calm and sometimes churning. Give me back my clear motherland ... what a touching sentence! Kindness is like a loving mother's smile, lingering like a lover's complaint! You are my lush green shade in spring, your golden harvest in autumn, your cool breeze in summer, your warm bonfire in winter, my motherland ... When I think of you, my heartstrings will tremble and sing, and when I think of your feelings with me, I will think, feather into a light cloud and fly to the sky. Floating to the earth overlooking the great rivers and mountains of the motherland ... You are my childhood dream, the mysterious and confusing story of my old grandmother under the wandering oil lamp, my father's tearful exhortation on the dock in Where Are You Going, the thick and simple soil of my hometown, the forest of steles carved by my ancestors, the condensed wisdom and blood and tears, the plank road cut off on the cliff of the Three Gorges, the dam break on the bank of the Yellow River and the voyage from ancient times to the present. You are not only a map shaped like a rooster, but also a combination of several slogans. You have become history. You are reality. You have continued the hope and sustenance from generation to generation in the unearthed bronzes and pottery. You have mottled and rich memories. In a tall building that rises from the ground, you have a style of flying high. Your sigh is so deep and long. Your call is so irresistible to the motherland ... I feel sorry for you and proud of you. I'm happy for you. You are a seed that germinates in my heart and grows into a leafy tree. Never wither, never fall, because your roots have been deeply rooted in my soul, integrated into my blood, my bone motherland ... when I am sad and confused, I call you again and again. You are cleaning up the filthy tide and filling my heart with surging * * *. You taught me to love, I really can't hand over my sincere conscience, even in the face of the noose. ...