Chapter 1: To the Oak Tree
If I love you-
Unlike climbing Campbell,
Show off with your tall branches:
If I love you-
Never imitate spoony birds,
Repeat monotonous songs for the shade;
It is not just like a fountain,
Send cool comfort all year round;
It is not only a dangerous mountain peak,
Increase height and set off dignity.
Even during the day.
Even spring rain.
No, these are not enough!
I must be a kapok beside you,
Standing with you as the image of a tree.
Roots, close to the ground,
Leaves, touching in the clouds.
Every time a gust of wind blows,
We all greet each other,
But no one
Understand what we said.
You have your copper branches and iron stems,
Like a knife, like a sword,
Like halberds,
I have my red flowers,
Like a heavy sigh,
Like a heroic torch,
We share cold waves, storms and lightning;
We enjoy the fog, the rainbow,
As if we were separated forever,
But they depend on each other all their lives,
This is great love,
Loyalty is here:
Not only love your strong body,
I also love your stand and the land under your feet.
Chapter 2: Motherland, my dear motherland.
I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river.
Old songs that have been spun for hundreds of years.
I am a miner's lamp with your forehead blackened.
When you grope in the tunnel of history.
I am a withered ear of rice; This is a roadbed that is in disrepair.
This is a barge on the beach.
Draw the rope deep
Pull it into your shoulder
Motherland!
I am very poor.
I am sad
I am your ancestor.
Painful hope.
It's a flying sleeve.
Flowers that never fall to the ground for thousands of years
-Motherland
I am your brand-new ideal.
Just broke free from the mythical spider web.
I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow.
I am your tearful smile.
I am the newly painted white starting line.
This is crimson dawn.
Spraying
-Motherland
I am a quarter of you.
Is the sum of your 9.6 million square meters.
You are scarred by *
raise
Lost me, considerate me, boiling me.
And then from my flesh and blood
get
Your richness, your glory, your freedom.
-Motherland
my dear motherland
Chapter 3: "Maybe"
Maybe our worries
There are always no readers.
Maybe the road has started to go wrong.
The result is still wrong.
Maybe we should light lanterns one by one.
And was blown out by the strong wind one by one.
Maybe burn out your life and shine on others.
There is no fire around to keep warm.
Maybe the tears are gone.
The land is more fertile.
Maybe we sing the sun.
Also sung by the sun
Maybe the heavier your shoulders are.
The higher the faith.
Maybe shout for all the suffering.
I have to keep silent about my personal misfortune.
perhaps
Due to an irresistible call
We have no other choice.