1, Tomb-Sweeping Day's poetry reading in memory of martyrs, standing in front of the tomb.
I seem to hear a faint bugle call.
Sense of mission; sense of responsibility
Rows of martyrs' tombs
Like a powerful army.
Prepare for a trip or March
tombstone
A few words
Condensed a period of bonfire years.
Red tomb
Solidified a young life.
Standing in front of the grave
The nobility and the poor are getting smaller.
Life and blood are shocking.
On a peaceful day
We forget easily.
I even forgot where pigeons came from.
Learn to forget and think.
From the smiles of those cold stones
We may become mature.
Standing in front of the grave
I seem to hear the trembling voice of history.
The grave is a glorious chapter.
The pigeon whistle sounded.
That's a bullet whistling.
It was the body that fell.
Immortality is the spirit.
They wrote their own history.
Our history is being written.
Qingming remembers the martyrs' poems and recitations II. The blood is still flowing.
Say the ferocity of gangsters
The blood is still flowing.
Said he was brave.
But he fell.
Be timid in the face of gangsters
Hands will tremble and sense of justice will disappear.
And some people don't.
He won't.
But he fell.
But he fell.
Sound the alarm.
Our hero was buried in the ground.
Poem recitation manuscript of Qingming Memorial Martyrs 3 dadada ...
You are fighting in the front line of the revolution.
Guns are your life.
It is your brush that writes about victory.
The March 8th Big Cover played the indomitable spirit of the people of China.
Millet and rifle shoot out the anger in China's soul.
The tortoise box reaped the life of the jackal fiercely.
Huo Huo Sheng Wei's broadsword dance is smart and elegant.
You defend our home with your lives.
You defended national dignity with your blood.
Blood coagulation forms a small river, named-blood soul.
All over China.
With blood and terrorblade, our territory.
Blood and soul converge into the Yellow River.
Into the hearts of thousands of people
The stubborn blood soul of dog tail grass
Fear, the wolf's guts
I don't know when the gunfire faded away.
Occasionally there are sporadic noises.
The sound is so beautiful.
Because you broke through the local defense line again.
Break through the barrier
Stand on the top of victory
Look at those unknown soldiers who dare to put their backs on their backs.
That is a kind of trust that transcends everything.
A feeling that cannot be described in words.
This is your tacit cooperation.
Is to see through each other's thoughts without words.
Those souls who fell at the foot of the mountain
Interpret a belief with one's own life-driving the wolf to devour the tiger.
The wind blew up dust and sand.
The mud sticks to your scarred body.
But I can't hide your feelings of defending your country.
How many loyal souls are buried in a foreign land
You can't see the sunrise in your hometown
I can't breathe the simple atmosphere of my hometown anymore.
Never feel tired again.
Others lost their old mother in their hometown.
There are only two words that children can never shout out-dad.
My wife is tired and can't find an arm to lean on anymore.
There is no port where ships can berth.
Spring is coming
Your souls have become dandelion seeds.
Through the wind, your mother-in-law comforted you and returned to your hometown after a long separation.
You landed on the land you are familiar with.
Rivers of blood-the soul of blood
Water your tired soul.
After being nourished, you continue to sway in the fields of your hometown in spring.
Smart and brave.
Breathing the air of my hometown
Absorb sunlight from home.
You solemnly look at our comrades who are harvesting the lives of jackals.
Pray for them.
Blood and soul have flowed through countless eventful years.
It laid an indelible foundation for resisting the aggression of jackals.
You are eagles soaring in the sky, flapping your wings and flying high.
You are a civet cat in the dark, chasing ignorant mice.
You are running lions, chasing prey, and there is nowhere to hide.
You are the majestic Great Wall of Wan Li, never give up.
You are the towering Mount Tai, and you are the envy of thousands of flies.
You are a pine tree in Nanshan, and you will be immortal.
You created brilliance with your blood.
You have forged a prosperous China with your souls.
Without your footsteps, maybe we don't know what it is like at the moment.
Without your tenacious fighting spirit, when will the jackal become extinct?
Without your tall figure bravely creating natural disasters, victory may no longer be written like this.
This is a long journey. You are struggling.
The blade is serrated.
The great territory of China as a picture scroll.
Your blood will turn crimson.
Your bodies have become wolf hair.
Peel off the magnificent mountains and rivers.
This picture is fixed on the edge of China.
Draw a cock with its head held high.
Standing in the eastern sky
You shouted out the voice of the people of China with your blood and life.
Awaken the descendants of countless sleeping dragons.
This also scared off the enemies who tried to devour our lives.
You are Sirius in the sky, cold but full of inner fanaticism.
You, the successor of the dragon, are guarding your home.
You, an indelible memory.
Let your soul shout with me:
Those who violate China's great powers will be punished far away!
Qingming remembers the poems of martyrs. Qingming in spring is a rainy season.
Misty rain is wrapped around the knot of remembering the martyrs.
The heroic spirit of the martyrs is floating in the pines and cypresses.
Spring has become a flower, which makes people no longer cold.
I walked to your grave with a bunch of flowers in my hand.
The falling rain is the tears I pour out to you.
I haven't seen your face, but my heart
Bathed in the sunshine you combed, I appreciate everything you gave me.
China rose because of your sacrifice in the battle.
The five-star red flag that rises every day condenses your blood.
You retire at the dawn of victory and enjoy a good life.
You have become a monument, and your blessings float on the earth like spring breeze.
Heroes, ten thousand martyrs in Qian Qian.
Qingming Festival is here, go home.
Your hometown and future generations live in happiness.
Tonight, your souls will rest there.
Poems in memory of martyrs
Looking back on a hundred years, a long time,
Old China, bullied by foreign powers,
Sovereignty is lost, mountains and rivers are broken, and lives are ruined.
Facing the Chinese nation-
A life full of shame and danger,
How many people with lofty ideals are there?
Generous elegy, wave after wave,
Fight bloody battles at the forefront of the revolution.
They kept China away from the sick man of East Asia.
Resolutely came out
They have rewritten the Chinese nation.
A hundred years of tragic history
They shed their heads and blood.
Fighting bloody battles in the majestic drums.
Made for the Chinese nation.
Brilliant victory.
The beautiful reality is a revolutionary martyr.
The realm I look forward to and fight for.
Revolution of blood and fire
With the full development of today's construction.
Complement each other and blend into one.
Spring scenery of the earth
Became countless martyrs
Blood and life.
No one said,
Give him a fulcrum,
Can he move the earth?
Then, with patriotism and dedication,
Our great revolutionary martyr,
You can use the sun and the moon to make drums.
The Milky Way is a string,
Play all-round life!
We won't forget,
Never forget,
After countless frenzied massacres,
The Chinese nation, which has suffered great disasters,
Hold your head high,
A strong spine,
A pair of Himalayan shoulders,
A blood vessel of the Yellow River and the Yangtze River.
Yesterday,
We used to,
A civilization that has supported 5 thousand years,
Hold up the Great Wall and the Forbidden City;
today，
We must use1300 million pairs of arms,
Hold up the sun tomorrow,
Hold up the moon, Venus and Mars.
Every corner of the universe
Rockets, satellites and man-made spacecraft ...