In a park surrounded by dust,
Mo,
Two pairs of white and beautiful swans,
Perched on the warm crystal lake ...
Where did this beautiful angel and pure little angel come from?
How long did they hover in the air?
How many times have they discussed it with the lovely cloud?
To choose this land?
Maybe this is not their ideal home,
Not even worthy of being their habitat,
Here,
Without fertile grasslands,
Without clean air,
The smell of gasoline not far away will make them frown.
But,
There are people here, there are so many people who love them,
With so many bright eyes,
So many loving hands with friendly flags,
How much life here needs them,
We need them to be so white and gentle and have unswerving love for each other.
Arouse their fond memories of swimming,
To recreate their lifestyles, big and small. ...
Ah! On that terrible night,
A pair of stupid black hands pulled out evil bullets,
This vibrant lake,
There was a drop of crimson blood,
Lost a beautiful white dream,
No one heard her last song. ...
So there is no white shining phantom on the lake.
Become as silent as death
Another couple went to seek a new peace,
And the swan that lost its lover will look for it day and night.
No food, no water,
Die before dawn ...