On March 8th, 1908, 1500 women marched in new york, demanding shorter working hours, higher pay, voting rights and prohibition of child labor. Their slogan is "bread and roses". Bread symbolizes economic security, while roses symbolize a better quality of life. In May, the American Socialist Party decided to take the last Sunday in February as the National Women's Day.
19 10, German sociologist Tsetkin suggested that one day should be designated as "International Women's Day" to commemorate the strike of American garment workers. The International Conference of Women Sociologists held in Copenhagen accepted this proposal, but no specific date was set.
19 17, Russian women called for a strike on February 23, demanding "bread and peace" to protest against the harsh working environment and food shortage. Julian calendar used in Russia is the last Sunday of every month, and the Gregorian calendar widely used in Europe is March 8.
1924 on March 8th, the China * * * production party held its first commemorative meeting in Guangzhou.
From 65438 to 0949, the Central People's Government of China decided to designate March 8 as Women's Day, during which women throughout the country had a half-day holiday and held various ceremonies to commemorate and celebrate.
1977 65438+In February, the United Nations passed a resolution to designate a certain day every year as the United Nations Women's Rights and Peace Day, which was subject to the history and traditions of Member States. For the United Nations, International Women's Day is scheduled for March 8th, starting from 1975.
96th anniversary! The ninety-sixth session
March 8 19 1 1 is the first international women's day.
The slogan is "wisdom, rationality, fashion and enterprising".
March 8th Women's Day Poetry Speech | March 8th Women's Day Poetry
Dedicated to mother
Sitting quietly on a flower, I have been integrated with the book.
One.
Because of her concentration, the book was opened greatly, and countless books were forgetful and black.
Colored eyes1111
How beautiful and quiet! those years
I grew up healthily by tasting such scenes. She recited it softly.
Reading makes waves in the air.
Love wave
Smell the homesick sea!
-
This bending posture makes the sun bend to the ground;
Such snow-white hair makes every winter pure.
It's beautiful.
-
Old mother! Read longer than my life! Sit quietly
On the chill of early spring
The waves decorate my years layer by layer.
When I went to the seaside as a student, I wrote a magnificent poem.
Waiting for your reading!
=
Untitled
A river of youth suddenly flows away with a bang.
Mom! I stopped by a blue sky and walked alone.
The car leans against the sun.
Underwater blue sky and deep water: boundless clouds
At this time, clouds are wandering around.
The flowers in my life suddenly bloom.
-
This is a mess of beauty everywhere! I drank the waves and rode on my bike.
On the waves, the wheels are rolling.
I'm far away, far away? Completely disappear!
-
The rest of my body is next to the endless blue wave.
The rest of my poems record life and let a hundred flowers blossom.
A duo?
What is left to me is green mountains and green waters, living and working.
-
I can only live in my mother's poems.
Living, melancholy, singing, full of hope.
-
Waiting for your return!
=
tornado
This is one of countless spring mornings, roaring in the waves.
thunder
Mom! In the red morning light, the bamboo basket for washing vegetables is so ethereal
It seems that the thunderstorm will not come.
-
There are thunderstorms, because of our beautiful home and singing.
Come to our hearts in advance. Mom, a huge smile is rolling in the sky.
The long-awaited comfort! In the center of the city square
I went over the mountains to listen to your voice flying home gently.
-
But mom, your wings only grow on me! I can fly.
The blood in the book loves the rivers of the motherland.
Respond to the sound of your blood!
It seems to have condensed the flames of rural life for countless centuries.
-
Burning forever. Mom, the days of rice.
The light in the depths of blood makes the sun shine, and I am the brightest.
Work!
At the moment when I landed gently in the yard, there was a thunderstorm!
The sky, the earth, labor, flying and light began to roll.
Mans, dissolve together-ah transparent storm, explosion.
Garden, my gentle and thin mother's heart.
Boundless me ...
Mother sat quietly on a flower.
Because of her concentration, the book opened countless indifferent black eyes.
How beautiful and quiet! those years
I grew up healthily by tasting such scenes. She read softly, rippling in the air.
Love wave
Smell the homesick sea!
-
This bending posture makes the sun bend to the ground;
Such snow-white hair makes every winter pure and beautiful.
-
Old mother! Read longer than my life! Sitting quietly in the chill of early spring.
The waves decorate my years layer by layer.
When I went to the seaside as a student, I wrote a magnificent poem.
Waiting for your reading!
=
Untitled
A river of youth suddenly flows away with a bang.
Mom! I stopped by a blue sky and my bike leaned against the sun.
Underwater blue sky and deep water: boundless clouds
At this time, clouds are wandering around.
The flowers in my life suddenly bloom.
-
This is a mess of beauty everywhere! I drank the waves and rode away on my bike, the wheels rolling.
I'm far, far away ―― completely gone!
-
The rest of my body is next to the endless blue wave.
The rest of my poems record life, in full bloom-
What is left to me is green mountains and green waters, living and working.
-
I can only live in my mother's poems.
This is one of countless spring mornings, a roar of thunder.
Mom! In the red morning light, the bamboo basket for washing vegetables is so ethereal
It seems that the thunderstorm will not come.
There are thunderstorms, because of our beautiful home and singing.
Come to our hearts in advance. Mom, a huge smile is rolling in the sky.
The long-awaited comfort! In the center of the city square
I went over the mountains to listen to your voice flying home gently.
But mom, your wings only grow on me! My flying blood loves the rivers of the motherland.
Respond to the sound of your blood!
It seems to have condensed the flames of rural life for countless centuries.
Burning forever. Mom, the days of rice.
The light in the depths of blood makes the sun bright. I am a bright worker!
At the moment when I landed gently in the yard, there was a thunderstorm!
Began to roll in the sky, blending the earth, labor, flying and light-ah, the transparent storm, the exploding garden, the boundless me in my gentle and thin mother. ...
★ Songs in Spring-Dedicated to Tian [pen name: rain shadow and blue wind, sub-song and blue wind] Women's Day on March 8th.
Horse: It is a good horse's wish to fly like a fly.
Woman: It was the flowers who drank the sunshine in March.
M: The lightning in my heart struck the strings in my heart.
Woman: The flame of my emotion turned the spring breeze into poetry.
Man: It's a song, so we should sing it loudly, about spring, and about the hope of flying in Xiangyuan.
W: It's very light. We should release energy, describe ideals and describe the splendid scenery of Xiangyuan.
M: In spring, as long as the first grass is dyed, thousands of grasses can merge into a green ocean.
Woman: Xiangyuan, as long as the first horn blows, thousands of children in Qian Qian will play a grand chorus.
M: I heard the drums of endeavor, which was magnificent.
W: I saw bright flags flying in the wind.