I am a flower in Qiantang River.
Waves rocking the wheelchair.
I am excluded from this world.
I am under the weight of fate.
I am a gray spray.
I am also eager to wash away the sludge and muddy water.
Eager to assemble thousands of troops
I am eager to go, too.
Playing in the distant Pacific Ocean.
I pleaded.
Take me away, take me away.
Let me taste this hasty cleverness, too
Now I don't beg anymore.
I want to ride this horse with my strength.
A galloping horse. I just hope
Qiantang River, my mother's river.
Hope thousands of brothers wave
Understand my little spray
Like understanding your friends.
She also wants to generate electricity and irrigate.
Hold the bamboo raft of love.
I am the wave rocking the wheelchair in Qiantang River.
I will describe it with my life.
I will use my youth to announce.
I am a golden wave.
In the ravine, there is a paralyzed aunt.
Now a bead is yellow and broken, and the stereo is gone.
Seven young girls flew in.
Regard my aunt as my own mother.
Seven phoenixes are coming.
Wet the beads round and round.
Here come seven colorful clouds.
Rub the beads until they shine.
Here come seven flashing notes.
Colour the beads with seven colors of light.
In the emerald tray of the motherland
How many beads are bright, round and have sound?
My dear child,
Don't cry.
When you leave your mother's arms,
I will warm you with the greatest love in the world.
Let me dry the tears from your eyes,
Hold you tight in my arms.
In your pure eyes,
My happiness is no longer poor.
My dear child,
Don't be lonely anymore.
In the sea of joy in spring,
There is always a wave of love that belongs to you.
Hold your tender little hand,
* * * With the baptism of the sun,
Open your closed heart,
Let the clear spring of love flow to the barren heart.
My dear child,
Don't be afraid.
In the night fog, a pair of trembling feet moved to a gloomy well.
Qiu Chan cried sadly.
Autumn leaves rustle.
Ah, the well is a quiet world.
No more torture of hope and pain.
There is no difference between self-esteem and inferiority complex.
There is no difference between sound and incompleteness.
Over there, a bright window
There came the laughter of life.
Laughter seems to come from another world.
So far away and so strange.
The hand of life is so weak.
Can't stop the sound of my stumbling.
Suddenly, I found someone sitting by the well.
A foreigner, as young as me.
I think I've seen this there
Yes, in the book How Steel is Tempered.
His name is Pavel Colta King.
He is a piece of steel and a piece of gold.
On a bench in the seaside park
He also has the idea of death.
A strong sense of responsibility for life
Tell him to put the gun back in his pocket.
Tonight, he is firmly guarding the well.
Opened the door to hell.
He stood up solemnly from the drilling platform.
Two contemptuous eyes made me blush.
Ah, I'm actually very timid
Dare not face the pain bravely and live bravely.
I can only swallow the severe pain temporarily, but I dare not.
Dare not climb the peak of life step by step.
An unprocessed window opens in my heart.
Paul by the well disappeared without a trace.
Listen to the distant and strange laughter.
Is striding towards me.
They say that miracle workers
Flower of life is gorgeous,
But why, why?
Miracles are linked to disabled people?
I've heard of biting pens with my mouth,
The painted works are praised globally;
I've heard of pulling the latch with my toes,
The immediate goal is not empty.
The blind man climbed up the snowy mountain,
A seesaw, running a hundred miles,
One-legged heroes often jump high with bamboo poles.
The soldier wrote an episode for the newspaper.
Oh, I see,
Incomplete, not the end of youth and life,
Is the beginning of another vibrant life,
Like a diseased tree pulling out new leaves.
Disabled people are connected with hope,
Disabled people are connected with wisdom,
Disabled people are associated with strength,
Therefore, the disabled are associated with miracles.